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You and Joel hadn’t been on speaking terms for a few weeks now. It felt as though almost everyone in Jackson could also feel the tension the day the mutual distance started. Nobody, outside of perhaps Ellie or Tommy, could guess why the two of you weren’t on good terms as you had been the last few years. They just knew something was amiss but never asked about it. You had no doubt that people were talking about it but no one said anything in your presence so you pretended as though it wasn’t happening altogether for your own sanity. As for Joel you already knew how he'd react if anyone tried to ask him about it. You’d doubt he’d humor Ellie or Tommy but they knew him well enough to figure out exactly what was going on even if they didn’t get a direct answer out of him. When it came to him, no answer was an answer.
You did want to speak to Joel about the whole situation but it was difficult when he was giving you the cold shoulder as if you were a stranger. When he entered a room you were in he would make eye contact with you and instantly swerve on his heel and leave. When you walked into a room he was in, he’d watch you from the corner of his eye but make no conversation or otherwise acknowledge your existence. You knew he was hurt but it still just didn’t seem fair at all. You were hurt too.
One brisk autumn day Tommy makes conversation with you as you trade for a loaf of bread. The conversation is one sided as he comments on a few of his plans with the season’s harvest and his son. All you return are some nods and a small, pursed smile as he goes on. He looks around sheepishly with a tip of his hat before he leans in to you, tone suddenly low and serious, “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Joel,” You open your mouth to instantly deny the claim but he shuts you down, “Don’t deny it. Doesn’t matter what, it's not my business. What is my business is that you two are the most well versed in patrolling Pritchard’s Pass.”
“But Pritchard’s Pass is a full day patrol out and back and the sun already sets so early.” You furrow your brows at his request.
“I know, it’s our hope that you’ll be back right at sundown,” Tommy shifts his weight as he watches you piece together that you’ll be spending sun up to sun down with his brother as opposed to the last few weeks of only morning patrols, “It’ll be one of the season’s final long distance rides.”
You nod after some thought, “Does Joel know?”
“Yes,” Tommy sucks in air through his teeth and fidgets with his gloves. He lets out an exasperated sigh before continuing, “Can y’all just play nice again?”
You grumble something under your breath that the man doesn’t quite hear but he’s not exactly keen on pressing you further. Talking with Joel about the patrol earlier that day already took all his energy out of him so he just let the situation be as he walked off.
Normally, Joel would invite you to his home, or arrive at yours, for a cup of coffee before the two of you set off to the stables but ever since your patrol last month he stopped these kind gestures, along with his presence and conversation, altogether. Going from patrolling almost every route together for years, trading, sharing drinks, stories, and laughter to complete silence felt like you were grieving someone that was still very much alive. It was hard not to take all of this personally. As much as you tried to keep busy and ignore his passive attitude, it was getting to you in a way you couldn’t quite describe.
Even now as you walked to the stables, the dawn of the day just breaking, he did not fully acknowledge you. Joel lifted his head at the sound of your footsteps and gave you a curt nod as he fed his horse. As you led your horse out of the stable you thought about how you’d normally be telling him about the crazy dream you had but the last few weeks silence had hung heavy in the air. At first you tried to ignore it, to carry on like usual, but he didn’t participate in your conversation or even humor you. It was hardly any different than talking to yourself so you withheld your tongue altogether.
It was a few hours into the patrol to Pritchard’s Pass before Joel cleared his voice to speak. He’d mentioned stopping briefly for breakfast and to let the horses drink from the shallow creek. Until you passed the river he was unsure of how reliable the water sources alongside the trail would be. You agreed and dismounted alongside him. Despite having woken up so early, you didn’t exactly have an appetite. Truthfully, you didn’t have much of an appetite at all lately but especially not when patrolling with Joel. You spent what felt like forever chewing on the same bite of jerky as you gave all your attention to your surroundings to both remain alert and ignore the suffocating tension between the two of you. You hummed when the clouds rolled in and buried the sunlight. You shifted your focus to the horses who drank from the creek side by side, tails swishing together in unison. You couldn’t help but smile when Joel’s horse took a few steps back before nuzzling its face against the other.
Joel watched your lips curve into a smile and glanced at the horses. He hadn’t seen you smile since that day. He had almost forgotten what it looked like. It takes everything in him to force the words out but he manages to force his way through the mental block, “Long time companions, these two.”
Your head snaps to face him and you try to suppress your smile from widening. Had the cold shoulder finally melted? You drop your head to your lap, picking through the food you had packed but still remained unappetizing. Joel noticed this, of course, he noticed everything you did. He noticed how you withdrew from him completely when he made his affection for you known. He noticed that you had lost weight despite the crops having been harvested. He noticed the lights on in your home at an egregious hour multiple nights in the week. He ignored all of this as he was drowning in his own wave of grief but could not ignore it whenever he saw it or whenever he heard about it. When he was out and about, he overheard the people of Jackson talking about how withdrawn you had become. When he tried to escape the whispers in the comfort of his home, Ellie questioned him outright regardless of what he was doing. He never answered, of course, but she always had a way of knowing anyhow. Even when he kept his distance from you, you were still haunting his every thought. If it wasn’t the people in his life talking about you, it was his own thoughts nagging at him. Even when he was asleep he could not escape you. Joel often found himself waking up in a sweat in the middle of the night or in the early hours of the morning with a forlornness that just made his heart ache.
Joel pursed his lips at the bleak reminder of how the last few weeks had been. He tried his best to bury those thoughts down, like nothing was wrong, but no matter what they always came bubbling up to the surface. He insists the two of you should carry on with the patrol and the same aching discomfort in his chest reemerges when he sees your smile drop from your face once he’s turned cold on you all over again. He didn’t want to be this aloof towards you or even shut you out completely but he just didn’t know what to do otherwise. As he had gotten closer with you since settling into Jackson you made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a very long time. As safe and resourceful as Jackson was, he didn’t have to feel like the two of you were in a partnership that relied on what the other could provide. You could certainly hold your own and take care of yourself, which he respected greatly. More than a handful of times you had taken out clickers from his blind spots without so much as a second thought. Despite the cruelty of the world you both lived in you retained a sense of humor and awe in the state of the natural world. On your patrols together he often watched you scribble down a quick drawing and a few notes about the flora and fauna. At times when you took a break you’d also pick a plant or a flower and press it into your notebook to take home with you. On the occasions he had been in your home he was able to recognize a few flowers he had seen you pick pressed and dried as a decoration.
As the two of you rode through the thick forest in silence once more, Joel kept replaying that day in his mind like a broken record. He didn’t mean for the words to slip, really, it all came out too naturally. After a year or two his guarded walls had relaxed a bit around you. A rare instance he had allowed only a handful of people in the last two decades since the outbreak. The two of you had been taking a break, funnily enough also on Pritchard’s Pass, and you had been examining the last of the flowers the season had to offer before the bite of winter killed them off.
Joel sat against a rock, arms crossed, as he watched you with an amused smile. You had plucked several lilac colored aster flowers and integrated the stems into your braid. You returned to him, proud, and looking just like a forest fairy.
”What do you think?” You beamed, plopping down beside him and leaning against him. You turned to the side so he was able to get a good look at your handiwork, “Does it look pretty?”
Joel doesn’t even think about it when he picks up your braid and runs his calloused fingers across your soft, woven hair. He hums with approval, “You’ve always looked very pretty.”
He hadn’t seen your exact reaction given you were faced away from him but after a few moments of silence you had turned to him, cheeks flushed and lips parted. You were at a loss for words. He held your gaze before his eyes dropped to your lips. You licked them anxiously and it had stirred something within him. His fingers that were twirling with your braid moments prior stilled. Your eyes seemed to be searching his face for something. He swallowed hard and tucked a stray lock of your hair behind your hair before cupping your cheek. His thumb traced back and forth over your cheek bone and your breath hitched.
“Joel…” You breathed, barely louder than a whisper. Every time you said his name it sent a shiver down his spine. Joel felt as though his other senses were being tuned out. All he could focus on was your lips. He leaned in to kiss you and his lips just barely brushed against yours before you pressed a hand to his chest, no strength in your efforts, and looked down. He instantly froze at your rejection but did not pull away. He searched your face for answers but couldn’t discern anything from your expression other than your hesitance and rosy cheeks. Your eyes remain transfixed on his, the yearning and confusion in his eyes pulling at your heartstrings, before looking away again. You didn’t know why you felt guilty but you did. You cleared your throat before mumbling, “We should start heading back…”
Joel tried to shake away the recent memory from his mind as he often did when he tried to forget. At first, he was worried he had made you flustered by putting you on the spot. However, the more he thought about it the less it made sense. He had thought about your shared interactions over the years. At some point, the boundaries of friendship began to blur. He didn’t think anything of it at the time because he was more than okay with it but lately it had just made him confused. Over the last few weeks he had combed through every single interaction you’ve ever had and it just left him more and more perplexed. He was struggling to believe you didn’t return his feelings but he was also struggling to believe you treated everyone else, all your other friendships, just how you treated him. He knew you treated him differently than the others, he wasn’t stupid nor blind so why did you reject him? Had he been too forward? Too presumptuous? Why didn’t you say anything then and all these weeks later? The silence was eating him alive but he just didn’t know how to approach you. Your quiet rejection felt like a stab to the chest and he was trying to recover from the wound.
As the two of you rode on, the wind picked up and the clouds began to darken. You looked up at the sky quizzically, trying to gauge the direction in which the weather would go. You turn around to look at the older man following behind you to voice your concerns but notice his shoulders are to his ears with pensive tension and a sour look on his face.
“Is everything alright?” You already regret asking the second the words leave your mouth. Obviously everything was not alright but you didn’t know what else to say.
“Everything’s great.” He replies flatly.
“Yeah, sure sounds like it…” You grumble under your breath, annoyed by his attitude as you turn back around.
Joel shoots a glare at your backside but says nothing. He bites the inside of his cheek as his mind continues to torture him with the image of you denying him but never pushing him away. What was holding you back? From both shoving him away or kissing him altogether? Why were you sitting on the fence like this? All the unanswered questions that he needed answers for, yet was also terrified to ask, was driving him to the brink of insanity.
Joel is broken from his inner turmoil when a gust of wind bites his cheek. His eyes squint to protect themselves but the thick flurry coming down is unmistakable; snow. The man curses under his breath. The both of you give each other a look and nod simultaneously, silently agreeing to turn back. Even when you hadn’t been on speaking terms you were still on the same wavelength. You make it only a few miles at a grueling slow pace. You can hardly see the trail in front of you anymore and there’s already a foot or two of snow slowing the horses down. You brace yourself and hold yourself close to your horse for both security and a shred of warmth but it barely makes a difference with the strong gusts of winds howling through the trees and knocking down thin branches to the snow covered ground. The conditions only prove to worsen and then Joel has to nearly scream his head off to get a word to you but you still can’t hear him. He motions for you to follow his lead as he makes his way East and you do your best to stay close behind as not to lose him in the blurry white haze. Your surroundings are unrecognizable but you know where he’s leading you already. Over the years in your patrols together, Joel let you in on a little secret only a handful familiar enough with the route knew of the cabin sitting East around the midway point of Pritchard’s Pass. You had been there only a couple times in inclimate weather with Joel such as this but you had hoped he could navigate through the sudden snow storm.
Luckily enough after a mile Joel was able to navigate through the thick layer of snow. Had it not been for the surrounding wooden gate he’s not sure he would’ve been able to locate it exactly. The gate was rotting but still held. Meant to keep infected out but if a raider or passerby stumbled along it, it wouldn’t be difficult to just walk through the gate. It wasn’t kept a priority to keep secure enough but with often as they did patrols if someone was there they would’ve known. Joel dismounts his horse and rips open the door of the empty shed that sat beside the cabin. It was a tight fit for one horse let alone two but he had no other choice than to guide them into the small, enclosed shelter that shook at times with the wind. You and Joel quickly grabbed your bags and guns from the horses and scrambled to the front of the cabin. Joel turns the knob to find it locked and curses. He turns to you but before he even has anything to say you nod. He quirks a brow at this and without having to even utter the command the two of you simultaneously ram your shoulder against the door. After a few attempts the door swings wide open and the both of you stumbled inside, kicking snow in the barren cabin. Joel curses again and makes quick work of closing the heavy door despite the now broken lock. You quickly grab a wooden chair and shove it under the doorknob at an angle to keep it sealed. The two of you pull back and pant heavily as your adrenaline begins to subside.
“Well,” Exasperated, you rub your forehead with the back of your hand, “That was not ideal.”
“No, it was not.” Joel sighs, just as thrown off. He looks around the dimly lit cabin with strained eyes. He hadn’t been there since last spring and couldn’t tell the state of the emergency shelter.
The two of you set down your things and spread out to check in on the cabin. It hadn’t looked like anyone had been there since it was the two of you earlier that spring caught up in freezing rain. Joel’s jaw tenses as he recalls that day. Both of your clothes had been soaked through and you were shivering to the bone. You both knew you couldn’t wear the wet clothes or your core temperature would never stabilize. Joel turns to the fireplace and hopes he left wood there for future endeavors. He squatted down to the box of old wood and was surprised there were matches, kindling, and a couple handfuls of logs of varying sizes neatly stacked. Definitely not his work.
“Me from the past was very thoughtful.” You muse, peaking over his shoulder to see the old gift you had left for yourself or whoever stumbled upon the cabin. Joel nods in agreement and gets to work kindling a fire as you continue to peruse around the cabin.
The mundane ministrations causes Joel to lose himself in his memories once more. He remembers lighting a fire, just like this in the hopes that you could both regain your warmth. The man screws his eyes shut when a flash of the silhouette of your naked backside appears in his mind. You had both undressed, wrung out, and hung your soaking wet clothes over the banister. While you didn’t have a change of clothes you found several duvets in a closet. Joel smiles briefly at the memory of you wrapped up in a thick duvet. You offered him one, keeping your head turned away but he would’ve been lying if he said he didn't want you to look. Maybe even try to sneak a peek like he was, but you never did. He took the duvet from you and somehow managed to get the fireplace in the living room lit. It wouldn’t be able to go all night let alone long enough to warm the whole cabin but sitting in front of the warm flames for a few hours felt like a luxury despite the circumstances. That night, the two of you fell asleep sitting on the floor upright and propped up against a coffee table. Your head on his shoulder and his head leaning against yours. After a few hours of dozing off you awoke and laid down on the floor curled on your side, wrapped in the duvet. He awoke when you pulled away from him to lie down. Admittedly, his neck was strained and he felt more than a little uncomfortable but it felt so good to be pressed against you. The contact of his bare shoulder against yours made his stomach flip. The warm contact was more than just soothing. It took everything in him to not curl up next to you on the floor and mold his body against yours. Instead, Joel had laid down on his back and stared at the ceiling, thoughts roaming aimlessly, until he fell asleep.
Joel tosses a couple small logs onto the now low burning fire. He looks over his shoulder and finds you’re shuffling through the cabinets in search of presumably food. He calls out, “Any luck?”
“Well, last time we were here I left some other things but, oh—!” You gasp. You pull out several cans of ravioli and a small rectangular metal tin. Joel squints his eyes in an attempt to make out what you have but once you rattle the tin he recognizes what you have by sound alone. Last Spring you had traded for hard candy made from Wyoming’s local wild berries. Joel shook his head with a light chuckle. You proudly proclaim, “We’re eating good tonight.”
”Looks like it,” He hums before blowing on the burning embers to encourage their growth, “Still any good?”
You pick up an overly sticky piece and your lips press together firmly. There was no doubt it melted and recooled repeatedly throughout the warm months. Ignoring this, you popped one into your mouth. Your nose crinkled at the initially sour taste but it smoothed out when you were able to work your way to the semi sweetness of it. Joel suppresses a smile and hangs his head. He closed his eyes to briefly ground himself when a slurp escaped your lips from sucking on the hard candy. He tries not to think about how you'd make the same sound if your lips were around his cock.
Joel can’t pinpoint exactly when his feelings for you became tender. The further he looks back on your interactions and time spent together it feels as though they were always there even when he didn't know it yet. He supposes his feelings for you truly started to plague him within the last year. Where he was typically met with nightmares and stress dreams he found himself at times dreaming of you. The dreams typically never made any sense, all he knew is that you were the star of them. You were almost always guaranteed to make a guest appearance if he had patrolled with you that day. He spent half or sometimes even the entire day with you just for him to go home to an empty bed with your face still in his mind and your laughter still ringing in his ears. At times, it felt like a cruel joke.
Sometimes he had it in his mind that you were already a couple. Many in Jackson had already assumed so as well it came as a surprise when it would come out that the pair weren’t romantically involved. The conversations and experiences you shared felt so intimate. In his heart, it felt dishonest to claim you were just friends or partners or whatever the both of you called it. He had always thought the both of you were just emotionally…challenged. Even before the outbreak Joel was never particularly one for emotional intimacy. He always felt paralyzed when it came to any sort of vulnerability and it took him a lot of time with someone to convince himself he was safe. With you, alongside the safety and community that Jackson provided, it didn't feel like so much of a challenge. The want— the need, to feel close to you was apparent when you had covered his back one evening on patrol years ago. The two of you had been on patrols prior to that but there was typically silence lingering in the air outside of talking about the directions of the route. After that, his instincts that had been stuck in fight or flight mode for the last two decades felt so secure. Since the start of the breakout he had only met a handful of people that could make him feel that way.
“What’s that there?” Joel gestures with his chin towards the open cabinet you had been rummaging through. You peer behind yourself, unsure what he means before you see it. You don’t know how he saw it in the poorly lit room alongside a layer of dust but in the cabinet was a faint rectangular groove in the wood. You run your fingers over it and realize someone cut out a concealed compartment to stash something away. You shift your hard candy in your mouth as you remove the thin piece of wood.
“Jackpot,” You let out a low whistle and you pull out the dusty half empty handle of whiskey, “I take it this wasn’t your doing?”
”It wasn’t but I wish it was,” Joel wondered who would leave such a luxury there but by the dust collected on it he would have to guess it had been sitting hidden for quite some time. He was surprised he had never noticed it before but didnt think too hard further. Joel stepped closer towards you to peek through the curtain clinging to the window with condensation. The snow was still coming down fast and thick. If the two of you were lucky then you’d be able to leave the next day while the snow was still soft. He had no doubt that the trip would slow the horses down but even by normal standards the both of you were still a couple hours from Jackson, “Dinner, then?”
You nod and instantly get to work. Your movements are almost robotic and automatic after having done this at least a thousand times over the years. Joel threw a couple of logs onto the growing fire as you sat the cans onto the small camp stove. As you got to work and kept an eye like a head chef, he roamed about the dark cabin. He recalls the first time he had taken you there on patrol about a year and a half back. It was the summer time then and there was no weather emergency but he wanted to show you just so you knew. He recalled a small pond was nearby and he had to firmly ask that you didn't stop to take a quick dip. You were unhappy, grumbling then about his strictness, but complied otherwise. If you really wanted a nice place to dip, he knew of nicer lakes on other trails. Ones with crystal clear water and the stark mountain silhouettes in the background. In the warm months he had shown you a couple spots and you were so ecstatic. Your whole face lit up like a firework. He remembers how rigid he had become when you instantly started peeling your clothes off to dip into the water. He had looked around anxiously if anyone, from Jackson or infected, were watching while you had no care in the world. He checks his surroundings frequently before his eyes are transfixed back to you in your bra and underwear. The wet material clinging tightly to your skin made his throat go dry. For a moment he thinks you’re trying to embarrass him. That you’re completely aware of his affection for you and you flaunt yourself in front of him knowing damn well he can’t have it.
It took a couple of visits to the alpine lake to ease him in the water with you. He was always firm on staying on the shore to keep watch and make sure nothing, and no one, would disturb them. But just as you were always patient with him he eventually gave in to your incessant demands. He also pulled his clothing off when you jumped into the water. He took a long look at your neatly folded clothes sitting right besides his on a thick tree log and it just looked so right. As though his clothes were meant to be tossed alongside yours. That same afternoon he watched you get redressed with a smile on his lips. Your clothes clung to your wet body as you struggled to pull them on. Joel had turned away from you as he grabbed his belt and button up shirt. He slid his belt though the loops but before he could fasten it he froze. Your hand, your small fingers, ghosted across the scarred skin on his back. He screwed his eyes shut and remained impossibly still as your hand settled over a raised scar when he had been impaled by the metal bar several years back. Your hand then traveled back up to the back of his shoulder blade where he had been shot a decade or so prior. He could hear you open your mouth to say something but before you had the chance he spun around and pulled your hand away. You gasped at the sudden movement but your eyes wandered across his scarred chest and torso. He hadn’t let go of your hand and he couldn’t help but notice it molded perfectly into his big one. Your eyes met his and he can just see all the questions you have turning around in your mind. He simply shakes his head, silently pleading you not to ask, and you didn’t say a word. Joel was convinced every injury he’s ever received was fair and just. Too many were from his time raiding with Tommy and people were just defending themselves from him. How could he be upset about that? He knew it wasn’t right but he learned a long time ago that what was right and what was necessary for survival rarely coincided with one another. That day, after he felt your skin against his, he learned how painfully inconvenient it was to ride a horse with an erection.
Joel raked a hand through his hair and silently sighed with frustration as he paced around the cabin. His behavior was not lost on you as you watched him restlessly search every cabinet, drawer, and floorboard he could and then once more over. You bit your lip in thought as you stirred a spoon around in the ravioli sauce to ensure the bottom didn't burn and stick. You tease, pulling a can off the stove and start heating the other, “Settle down, cowboy.”
Joel scoffs dryly before smiling at the pet name. He knows you can sense his restlessness but he can’t exactly do much to hide it in a closed environment. He sits down on the wooden floor beside you and picks up the can. However, just as he had been all day he loses himself in his thoughts and stares off into the roaring fireplace. You continue to eye him down, unable to interpret what he’s thinking. Normally, the two of you were so in sync but lately he had been walling you off completely. His micro expressions that were once so easy to read felt so foreign to you now and you didn't like it.
As you finish heating up your own can you turn off the camp stove and push it to the side. Unceremoniously, you kick the handle of bourbon and it slides across the wood floor. The glass nearly topples over but Joel catches it and sits it up right, throwing a quirked brow your way. You smile sheepishly and sit down beside him in front of the warm flames. You take a couple bites of Ravioli that’s piping hot but somehow still a little cold in the center before you screw the bottle’s lid off. You give the liquor a sniff but can’t really discern anything from it other than that it's definitely whiskey. You shrug and take a swig. The brown liquid burnt your throat on the way down and you couldn’t fight the cringe that crept onto your face. You pushed the handle to Joel with a shudder and he couldn’t help but laugh. You felt your face get hot and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the warmth your heart felt from finally hearing his laugh, his real laugh, for the first time in weeks.
“Whiskey not up to your speed?” He chuckles, looking over the bottle to try and make out the details of the label.
“No,” Your voice croaks, throat bone dry. You take another bite of ravioli and suppress another shudder. “But I'll take what I can get.”
“Certainly suits fine by me,” Joel muses before taking a swig as well. You shake your head in disbelief, more so with yourself, at his lack of reaction. He glances once more at the bottle, unable to discern anything on the faded, dust covered label, “Ain’t bad.”
You scrunch up your face in disagreement but don’t say anything. You pick up the bottle and take another swig. You push the bottle back to him. He takes hold of it by the handle and gives you a questioning look. You shrug before leaning back against the coffee table that sat in the living room, arms folded across your chest, “Just to keep the cold away.”
He concedes as you do have a good point. He doubted the fire would last throughout the night but the warmth you had now certainly helped. He takes another swig and hums when he feels the warm sensation spread across his chest as his head begins to buzz. He leans against the coffee table as well. His heart skips a few beats when his shoulder touches yours and you don’t pull away from him. The two of you simply stare off into the dancing flames and enjoy the comfortable silence amongst the crackling of wood.
After some time you stretch with a quiet moan, “This is nice,” Joel hums in agreement, his eyes closed, “Do you remember the last time we got stuck here?”
”Yes,” Joel answers without hesitating, “Two days of freezin’ rain.”
“Freezing rain!” You groan, slapping your forehead with your palm for emphasis, “Man, that sucked. Soaked to the bone and all.”
“Wasn’t so bad.” Joel opened his eyes and turned his head towards you, his face mere inches from yours.
“Guess not,” You grin from ear to ear before turning away from him to take another swig of the whiskey. A smile crept onto Joel’s face as he watched you. You looked so beautiful, like a dream, from the flickering illumination of the fire while taking a shot of hooch. Your smile stays plastered on your face, your intoxication starting to show. You pull back from the bottle and offer it once more to Joel. He takes it and presses the bottle to his lips as you admit, “I’ve missed this.”
“Missed what?”
“This,” You giggle, gesturing vaguely between him and you, “Us.”
He pauses at your words. You don’t notice this though and sigh as you sink further against the coffee table. Joel thinks for a moment before taking a swig. He stares off into the open flames as he sets the bottle in between the two of you. Without warning he says, “I like you.”
You turn to him and he’s still staring off into the fireplace. You try to suppress a smile and you look away as you feel your cheek grow hot. “I like you too.”
Again, with no hesitation, “And I care about you,” Despite how much he had rehearsed this in his mind it still felt so difficult, so vulnerable, to force the words out even with a few shots of liquid courage. He turns to face you, “A lot.”
Your eyes light up with something he can’t quite recognize, had never seen before, but the spark is gone just as quickly as it had appeared. Your brows knit together ever so slightly and you chew on your bottom lip. Joel reaches out to take hold of your hand, and you let him, but you don’t hold his back. He gives your hand a squeeze and you smile sheepishly, awkwardly, before glancing down to the floor as if to search for something. Your silence is killing him, “What’dya have to say to that?”
“I’d say that…” You stare off into the fire now, trying to find the right words but it's difficult with your head swimming with alcohol and Joel’s intense, expectant gaze on you, “I care a lot about you too. You know that, but…”
“But?”
You hang your head low with a shrug, “I dunno,” your voice is soft now, “I just don’t want anything to change.”
Joel thinks about your words for a few moments. He doesn’t understand, “Change how?”
“I don’t want our friendship to change,” You face him now with pleading eyes. You had been avoiding thinking about this. You knew what he wanted, and how he felt, but you thought if you just ignored it, it would go away and everything would stay the same between you two. You knew deep down that was both naive and selfish. You persist and your words slur a bit, “We make a good team, Joel. We have a good thing going here for us, and for Jackson, and I don’t want that to change.”
“Sounds like bullshit.” He grumbles, letting go of your hand and reaching for the whiskey handle.
You frown at his response and narrow your eyes at him, “How’s that bullshit?”
“‘Cause it is,” He looks over to you as he takes a swig from the bottle before continuing, “Nothin’ would change.”
“Nothing would change?” You challenge with a raised brow.
“We spend most of our days together already,” He explains, slightly miffed he has to spell it out for you but he persists, “Nights, sometimes, too. You’ve cooked for Ellie and I. I’ve done handyman projects in your home. I trust you. You trust me.”
You look unconvinced.
“That all goes far beyond the level of care appropriate for the shit state of the world. No one can afford that but you,” He pauses and licks his dry lips, trying to find the words, “You give me that.”
“Because I'm a good friend.” You say but it sounds more like a suggestion.
“You can’t tell me that we’re just friends,” Joel clicks his tongue in annoyance, “Maybe you can try to convince everyone else that, but not me. I ain’t buyin’ it.”
You sit up and face him, “There’s nothin’ to buy ‘cause there’s nothin’ to sell.”
“Bullshit!” He shouts suddenly and it makes you jump. Still, ever the stubborn person you were, your scowl on him remains firm. Joel wipes the hooch from his lips, shaking his head in disagreement and frustration with your words, “You don’t treat anyone else how you treat me and I don’t treat anyone else how I treat you. The boundaries of our “friendship” have been awfully blurry for years now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You deny defensively, arms tightly crossed over your chest.
“Then let me remind you,” He sits up and throws a log into the fire before turning back to you, “We can ignore the years worth of long patrol days and occasionally nights we’ve spent together from festivities, if you really need specific reminders. My birthday and Christmas— you give me gifts.”
You scoff, “You’re not the only one—“
“You give generic presents to a handful of people, sure,” He interrupts, “But you give me what you know I like. Coffee or whiskey or whatever else. You keep me in your considerations on and off patrol.”
“Joel, that’s what friends do.” You insist, growing annoyed that he was throwing your kindness back in your face.
“Oh yeah?” He challenges, “Do you go borderline skinny dipping with your other friends? Do you trace your damn fingers over their old wounds? Do you stargaze together and tell them things you’ve never said aloud before?”
You bite the inside of your cheek. One summer night the two of you had climbed the roof to your home after a few drinks and watched the constellations. It was easy to blame things on the liquor when you were vulnerable with each other but there was no regret the next day. You told him of what became of your family during the outbreak, how you lost everyone, and he confided in you about his daughter. Your hand had interlocked with his and his thumb traced comfortingly against your knuckles. It felt good then to open up to someone. To show that you trusted him completely, and he felt the same, but now it hurt that he was pulling such an endearing memory out from under you like this. You utter his name like it's a warning through gritted teeth, “Joel.”
“Fine,” He concedes, “Just tell me this. Is there someone else?”
“What?” The question catches you completely off guard and you’re at a loss for words. Your intoxicated state is certainly not doing you any favors. “That’s…” You stumble over your words, unsure of what to say but already on the hard defense due to his confrontation, “That’s none of your business.”
Joel scoffs at your answer, “Really? None of my business?” The man stands up and begins pacing around the room. His whole body felt hot with anger, hurt, and liquor flowing through his veins. He grumbles in disbelief, “Just a month ago you were telling me everything. Even the dream you had the night before, but suddenly anything about you is none of my business?”
“Joel, please.” You try to reason with him. You had never argued with him like this. Sure you had your difference in opinions but you had never once spoken to each other like this. You knew in your heart that things would never go back to the way they were before but it was your hope, perhaps your delusion, that the two of you could work past this. Forget this night ever happened and just go back to being friends. To being a team.
The man has his hands on his hips in thought and back turned away from you. He screws his eyes shut as his head pounds. He could acknowledge he was getting worked up but he didn't know what to do. He was at the end of his rope. The several weeks he went without speaking to you, without spending time with you, felt like torture. As if he was going through withdrawal he was quieter, grumpy, restless, and on edge. Everyone had noticed it but he had always brushed it off. The forced proximity of being snowed in an isolated cabin in the woods while he had this confrontation with you felt like karma for the time he had spent keeping you at arm’s length.
“Gimme a minute.” He grumbles and opens the front door to the cabin. You call out after him but he ignores you and you don’t follow. With a shred of luck, Joel was able to take all of two steps outside of the door before he was met with snow piled up to his knees. The overhang and gutters provided no more space than that but if the snow persisted like this he had no doubt it would topple over and block in the door. He took a deep breath followed by a heavy sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He wished more than anything he wasn’t stuck here with you. He wished he was in Jackson where he could go back to keeping his distance, but there was no turning back from this. There was absolutely no way things could go back to the way they were before. He wasn’t blind nor stupid, he was completely aware of the fact that every time you were alone together the boundaries of your companionship were being pushed further and further. He felt stupid for allowing it. He should have told you to piss off months ago— years ago. Then he wouldn’t be so hurt as he was now. He wouldn’t have let you get so close. He wouldn’t know where you have a couple moles hiding underneath your clothes.
It doesn’t take long for the icy winds to nip at his skin, making his flesh feel numb. He curses under his breath and lets himself back inside. The cabin is warm and inviting and just as you were prior, you were sitting on the floor in front of the now low burning fire leaning against the coffee table. You didn’t turn your head towards him as he repositioned the stool to hold the door shut. As he approached the fire he saw you were cradling the bottle of whiskey and staring off into the embers with red, puffy eyes. You had been crying. Joel felt his heart drop but he offered no reassuring words.
His eyes flicker over to the fireplace and he silently shakes his head, opting not to feed it any longer. Instead he shuffles around the cabin in search of the duvets. He spots them neatly folded behind the coffee table, likely your work from months prior, and pulls them together. He tosses one over to you and wraps himself in the other before sitting down next to you. His shoulder is pressing against yours but still, you don’t pull away from him. The silence hangs heavy and tense in the air. He wants to say something, even just goodnight, or that he’s sorry, but the problem is he’s not. He’s angry at himself for not establishing stricter boundaries a long time ago and he’s angry that you kept pushing those boundaries further and further all while claiming to not know what you were doing to him. He won’t apologize for how he feels about you when you put him in this position to begin with. Like a fool you fed a stray animal and dared to be surprised when it followed you home, expecting more.
Joel looks over to the whiskey handle and makes note that what started as half a bottle was now nearing a quarter. He figures you had taken another sip before he came back inside. He shakes his head to himself, deciding to not drink anymore. He was sure he was going to wake up with a pounding headache between the liquor and the intense, emotional conversation. As if instinctively, his head snaps to your direction when he hears a quiet sniffle.
“Joel,” Your voice breaks as you fight back tears, “Can we please just be friends again?”
Joel’s hand flies to cup your cheek. His thumb wipes away fresh tears and suddenly he’s thrown back into the forest when he had previously done this. His hazel eyes studies your expression as best as he could make out in the dimly lit room. His attention falls to the silhouette of your lips. Even if he had agreed to your terms he knew he could not keep doing what he had been the last few years. He knew that when you left this cabin, no matter what he did or said, things would never be the same again. No matter what everything was going to change between the two of you. Couldn’t you see that? You either had to lose him completely or accept him completely.
The man lets out a dry laugh, “Funny,” His resolve hardens and he knows what he needs to do, which rarely coincided with what was right, “That’s the last thing I want from you.”
You gasp quietly at his candor and his lips seize yours. He moans into the open mouth kiss and his other hand grips your shoulder, keeping you in place. When he slipped his tongue past your lips to entangle with yours he was almost certain he could still taste the remnants of the forest berry hard candy you had been sucking on earlier alongside the whiskey. Your hands fly to his wrists and grip them. He pulls back and starts feverishly pressing kisses all over your face. You can’t help but shudder against his touch when he kisses the shell of your ear. You hiss under your breath and bite your lip when he tilts your head back and his lips latch onto your throat. Your mind was barely able to register what was happening to you. The liquor you had slammed over the course of the night was making you dizzy and far too warm for comfort. It takes you a few moments to even realize Joel has pushed you onto your back and leaned over you as he continued to kiss down your throat. One of his hands ran up and down your side, occasionally gripping at your hip or thigh. It took nearly all of your strength and concentration just to sit up on your elbows. You panted heavily as he pulled back from you. Your glazed over eyes met his and you tried to plead with him silently. If he had noticed your expression in such a dark room he elected to ignore it before a hand found its way at the hem of your shirt. You gasped when he pushed your shirt to your collarbones, the material sitting over your bra. The bra you wore had a clasp in the front and Joel made quick work of unhooking it.
“Jesus, baby.” He breathed in awe, southern drawl all the more apparent. Your nipples perked up the moment they hit the cold air.
“Joel—” You begin to implore but bite your lip when he ducks his face in between your breasts and plants wet, sloppy kisses over your sensitive skin. He drags his tongue across your mound before circling your nipple. Your hand flings to his head when he begins sucking on your nipple. He only moans into your skin, mouth full, when you pull at his hair in an attempt to pry him off of your chest. Hot tears cascade down your cheeks and your grip on his scalp tightens.
He pulls back with a ‘pop’ sound and begins kissing down your torso, his hands making their way to the waistband of your jeans. You begin to thrash around, legs kicking, as panic is finally able to break through your whiskey induced stupor. You knew that Joel was stronger than you but you’d never thought you’d ever experience him using his strength against you. The man unbuttoned your jeans and began pulling them off you in spite of your flailing and kicking at him. It seemed as though your resistance made no difference.
He tossed your jeans to the side and you hissed. Goosebumps littered your skin and you weren’t sure if it was from the freezing air or the fact that a man you had known and trusted for years was going to violate you. You squeeze your bent knees together but just like everything else you had tried it didn't make a difference. Once he had something in his mind it wasn't possible to persuade him otherwise. Joel places both of his hands on your knees and spreads them apart. His calloused hands wander up your thigh and you shiver. A hand cups your cunt and begins rubbing you through your panties. You let out a squeak and instinctively clamp your thighs together but he is unmoved. His fingers rub up and down your clothed sex and he sighs when he can feel a warm dampness stick to the thin material.
“You can’t say you don’t know what you do to me,” Joel leans into you and presses his clothed body against your practically naked one. His hand slips underneath your panties and pushes past your curled hair. He growls low into your ear, “I see how you look at me,” He kisses your jawline while his fingers rub circles over your sensitive nub. Your hands grab fistfufuls of the flannel he was wearing as if to brace for pain despite his ministrations being slow but firm. He murmurs against your skin as he continues to work his fingers on you, “And I never minded ‘cause I look at you like that too.”
“Joel, please,” A sob shakes through your chest as you try to reason with him, “You don’t have to do this.”
”I do have to do this,” Joel counters firmly. You throw your head to the side in shame when he slips a finger inside of you. His lips part ever so slightly in awe of how you were becoming undone beneath him. Your hips writhe against his hand and you bite your bottom lip so hard it sheds blood, “Just let me do this, sweetheart. Just let me take care of you.”
You shake your head vehemently from side to side and screw your eyes shut. He says nothing in return but slips in another finger and you can’t help but let out a muffled whine. You were doing everything in your power, what little you had left, to not make any noise. It was the last shred of control you had and even that was starting to wane.
Ever since he had settled in Jackson, Joel had a sense of peace that he couldn’t recall the last time he had. He didn’t have to kill or torture anyone. He didn’t have to steal. He didn't have to worry about his safety or Ellie’s, just the trouble she would get into with everyone else. On patrol he was naturally alert but still remained relaxed because what could he encounter that he hadn’t yet before? This moment he shared in the cabin with you felt like those years of raiding were coming back again. As if the person he was, who he needed to be to survive, was coming back to life. In truth, that side of him never truly died even when settling in the Boston QZ or Jackson. He just laid dormant until he was needed again.
Joel stared at the blood beading on your lip. He leaned in and flicked his tongue alongside the wound before sucking on your bottom lip. He felt your body tense against his and he groaned against your lips when he could feel your pussy clenching around his fingers. He pulls back and removes his fingers from you. He marvels in the string of your juices connecting his fingers from your pussy. Joel watches you slap a hand over your mouth, mortified, when he pushes his fingers past his lips to get a taste of you. You were ashamed by the evidence of your arousal. You were even more ashamed that someone you were so close with, trusted your life with, was doing this to you. The assault felt like an intimate betrayal. You wondered briefly if this was what Joel felt when you rejected his advances initially. He had looked so confused, so hurt, but now so were you.
Joel breaks you from your thoughts when you can suddenly feel his beard itching against your inner thighs and his hot breath against your sex. Your hand presses harder against your mouth when he drags his flat tongue from your hole to your clit in an attempt to suppress any noise. Your back falls hard and flat against the rotted wood boards as he flicks his tongue over the sensitive nub. You let out low, muffled whines of disapproval but the sound being drawn out doesn’t help your cause. Joel hums back in response as he slips two fingers back inside of you. It overwhelms you in every way possible and you can’t help your hips from squirming. He gazes up at you when your hand finds his way back to his scalp and gives his hair a weak tug. You looked absolutely beautiful rolling in the pleasure he was giving you.
“You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this,” Joel breathes against your pussy while still fingering you. He presses a kiss to your hip bone and then inner thigh, “Dreamed about it.”
You sob in between stifled mewls at his admission. It would be a lie of you to say you never noticed Joel’s feelings for you. Truthfully, you had known the whole time, perhaps even before he knew. Joel was a discreet man of few words until he let you get to know him. Even so, you weren’t unaware of the prolonged stares he’d send your way. How his eyes would linger just a little longer than usual or your legs or your backside when he thought you weren’t looking. Being on regular patrols you were naturally perceptive, even from the corner of your eye, but you didn’t acknowledge his yearning gaze. You even enjoyed it, as much as you tried to ignore it, but made no plan to tease or confront him about. It somehow felt more fun if he thought you didn’t know. Tilt your head to the side and give him a smile when you pull him away from his trance of staring too long at your ass, pretending to be none the wiser as to why he didn’t hear your question to him the first time around. When his breath caught in his throat when you first interlocked hands, star gazing on your roof or the way he would try, and fail, to not look at your or stare too long when you peeled your clothes off to cool down at a lake. The two of you were so often seen together in Jackson off patrol that other members of the community, Tommy and Ellie included, were surprised when you’d admit with a laugh that you weren’t an item. Joel never had much to say or explain and neither did you, leaving everyone else confused but uncertain of where the two of you stood.
Joel’s fingers pumped in and out of you quickly as he sucked your clit in patterned intervals. A stuttered moan escaped your lips and your back arched off the floor. Joel’s other hand snaked around your hip, keeping your hips from writhing off the floor and your slick pussy glued to his face. The pants and moans you tried desperately to hold back sounded like music to his ears in addition to his pleased hums against your flesh. It felt like a damn gift to have his lips against your pearl and to wear your thighs like earmuffs in the brutally cold Wyoming winter. Your breathing became labored and your grip on his hair tightened painfully. Joel stopped finger fucking you and opted to curl his fingers inside of you to directly massage your g-spot. His hazel eyes peer up at you as you fall apart. You screw your eyes shut with pensive brows and your thighs shake with tremors. Your climax ripped through you and you cried out his name as if he was not the one holding you down. An image of Joel standing off to the side, able to jump in at any moment and save you flashed through your mind. It was not a cry of pleasure, but help.
He moaned in response as you wailed out his name, your voice, on his ears, dripping with ecstasy and honey. Even as your breathing evened out and the trembling subsided, he did not pull away from your cunt until he was satisfied. After basking in the glow of your orgasm, Joel pulled back from you. Even in the poor lighting you could see your clear juices coating his beard. He made no effort to rub it off and instead admired your swollen sex. He had a grip on your thigh and his thumb traced the slickness that was coating your inner thighs. His other hand palmed at his hard cock that was straining almost painfully now against the rough denim of his jeans.
A tear rolled down your cheek as you stared off into the dying embers of the fireplace. You were finally resigned to your fate in that cabin. You began to dissociate when you heard the man fumble with his belt. The ‘clink’ of the metal buckle hitting the floor then followed by his zipper sounded far away and distant, almost muted, in your ears. You tried to think about anything else. You thought about how desperately you wanted to be back in Jackson in the comfort of your home. You thought about the wildflowers spring would bring and the jams and hard candy you could trade for when berry season rolled in.
“Hey,” Joel murmurs and pushes a lock of sweaty hair from your face, snapping you out of your trance, “Focus right here, darlin’.”
Your vision struggles to stay focused and your head lolls as you turn your attention back on him. He made quick work of unbuttoning his flannel and tossing it to the side alongside your jeans. His white undershirt was pushed up and rested just below his chest. In the flickering light of the fireplace you could make out the raised silhouettes of old wounds he had, ones you were familiar with. A vertical patch of hair from his belly button trailed down to an even thicker patch of dark, coarse curls. Your jaw tenses at the scene before you. Joel’s jeans and underwear were pushed just past his thighs to expose his thick, hard cock. Joel couldn’t help but smirk when your eyes widened at his size and he gave his member a few slow strokes, proving to you just what you do to him.
Joel slaps the head of his cock against your clit a few times as if knocking before entering. He lets out a low hiss followed by a hum when his hips roll against your cunt, your slickness coating his shaft. The feeling of him rubbing himself against your overstimulated sex felt maddening.
“Just get this over with already.” You growl through gritted teeth and shoot him a glare.
Despite scowling at him defiantly, he doesn't break his gaze from yours as he grasps the base of his cock and lines himself with your entrance. When his hips snap against yours it feels as though the wind was kicked out of you, leaving you breathless. Despite your arousal, the sensation of Joel sliding into you to the hilt left you feeling uncomfortably full followed by a light stinging sensation. You clenched around him as your whole body tenses uncomfortably at the intrusion. Joel’s head hangs as he lets out a drawn out moan.
“You see that, baby?” His head doesn’t lift and your eyes betray you and they follow his line of sight. You were both looking at where you were connected and you felt your breath hitch at the sight, the proof, the undeniable evidence, that Joel really was buried completely inside of you, “You feel so fucking good.”
Joel gives a slow roll of his hips and you let out quiet, sharp gasps each time he pulls out just to fill you back up again. The resistance your tense body was giving him was waning and beginning to be replaced with a heat coiling inside of you. You don’t know what to do with your hands and find yours clawing at the floorboards as he slowly fucks you, both of his large hands firmly gripping your hips. Your head lolls back and you focus your attention on the ceiling. You felt dizzier than ever and every part of your intoxicated state was more than just overwhelming. You bit your tongue when his forgiving pace quickened. You whimpered when you heard the wet sounds coming from your pussy followed by a low groan from Joel.
You winced and flinched when he gave you a particularly hard thrust at the wrong angle. Joel noticed your pained expression and instantly slowed down. It was difficult for him to practice restraint now that you were finally intimate after years of holding back, but he wasn’t so cruel that he wanted to cause you pain. He tries to soothe you with a soft voice, “I know, baby, I know it’s big,” Joel grabs your thighs and forces your legs to limply wrap around his hips, “‘m going slow.”
Despite having dreamt about this for what feels like ever, Joel didn’t want to rush this. He wanted to savor every moment and burn the first time into his mind. In all of the scenarios he had envisioned that would lead up to this, your first time together, this felt more than just right. A cabin with a low burning fire. The act alone made all his frustration from the tense conversation prior completely slip his mind. The face you made when he made you cum made his heart flip and his cock twitch. He hated the last few weeks of being so distant from you. He was never a good man with his words but he knew his actions always spoke louder and defined him. He just had to show you the depth of his affection for you, and then you would understand. Him getting you off and taking things slow with you was the kindest he could be with you when he fought with everything against him to not pile drive your pussy.
Joel positions his hips in such a way that buries him deeper inside you, the head of his cock poking against your cervix. He comes to a stop and leans into you further, pressing his chest against yours. His eyes are closed, too immersed in pleasure, when he kisses you. He lets out a stuttered moan into your mouth when his tongue slips past your lips to entwine with yours. You don’t reciprocate but instead just lay there, letting him kiss you.
“Just hold on to me, sweetheart,” Joel breathed against your lips. One hand gripped the side of your thigh and the other snaked under your arm. Hesitantly your arms creep out and wrap around him. He groans before his lips relatch on to yours. His pace quickens and your hands curl into fistsfuls of the shirt he was wearing. He buries his face into the crook between your shoulder and neck. His facial hair tickles you as he moves against you, “Just like that, just like that.”
Your stare off into the ceiling above you as you can only imagine what you look like from a third perspective. Joel on top of you with just his lower back and ass exposed, his body pressed firmly against your practically naked one. Him moaning and whispering against your skin while you stare off, panting heavily. You had hoped by his ragged breathing and less rhymetic, frantic thrusts that he was close. He would be done with you and then it would finally be over. You were beyond exhausted and outside of wanting this endeavor to just be over, you wanted now more than anything to just curl into a ball and attempt to disappear. Sleep was the only thing that would bring you instant reprieve and if it was possible to sleep for days, even weeks, you would do it in a heartbeat. Maybe if you stayed in that cabin, completely still, moss would reclaim you as its own.
Joel pulls you out of your busy thoughts once more, this time with less patience. You hiss when he grabs your jaw, squeezing your cheeks almost painfully, “Look at me,” He grunts through labored pants, “‘m close.”
”Joel,” Your voice is cold, sharp, and it sounds like a warning. You feel him twitch inside of you and your stomach coils uncomfortably with pins and needles, “Pull out.”
He says nothing but gives you a challenging look you were all too familiar with. Your blood runs cold at his silence. Joel sits up and throws your legs over his shoulders. His thrusts are shallow, slow and controlled, but hard enough to make you grimace. One of your hands grips his thigh and you dig your nails into his skin for purchase. Your voice cracks as you fight to suppress a sob, “Joel, don’t.”
“Don’t what, sweetheart?” Your ankles flail helplessly next to his head, “Don’t cum inside you?” He hated to admit some small, dark park of him deep down enjoyed it more when you had a hint of fear in your eyes. But he hated it more when you zoned out and left him to enjoy this by himself. Maybe he didn’t need your cooperation but he definitely needed your attention. He needed more than anything to make his affections for you not only known but unignorable. Undeniable. He taunts you further, “You don’t want me to get you pregnant? Huh?”
”No!” Your hips begin to thrash against his but his grip on your thighs only tighten to hold you in place.
Joel’s eyes become half lidded with his orgasm on the brink and his hips begin to stutter against yours. Your nails claw at his thighs and hands. Joel continues to babble as he chases the highs of his pleasure, “‘m gonna cum in your tight little pussy and ‘m gonna knock you up…”
“I’ll do anything,” You desperately try to bargain with him as if you had any standing, “Please don’t, Joel, please.”
His lips latch to the side of your ankle in brief thought before he murmurs against your skin, “Tell me,” His hazel eyes flicker to you and he swallows hard as if embarrassed by the request. He licks his lips, “Tell me you love me.”
”What?” As if physically violating you wasn’t humiliating enough, he wanted you to give in to his delusions and not just submit to him with your body.
“Say it.” He commands now, any shame he briefly showed evaporated.
“I—“ You sputter dryly in disbelief, “I love you.”
The sound that escaped Joel’s throat was low and primal. You were convinced you could only hear such a sound from a predator prowling through the thick wooded forest. You suppose that’s exactly what Joel was; a predator hunting his prey. Except in this instance your neck was in between his jaw; teeth at your throat. He fucks you even harder and you can’t help but wince.
“Again.” He rasps.
“I love you.” Fresh hot tears cascade down your cheeks. Your nails now dig into the skin of your palms so fiercely your knuckles turn white.
“Fuck,” His voice is drawn out, “Again.”
“I love you Joel,” You let out a cracked sob that shakes through your chest, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” You chant, hoping it will save you and put an end to your misery.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” His teeth graze the flesh of your ankle and his brows become pensive, “I love you too,” He nips at your skin and you can’t help but jump, squeezing your walls around his throbbing cock, “so, so much.”
”Please,” You beg. He knows you’re begging him not to cum inside of you but when he ignores the context it sounds like you’re begging him to fuck you because of how much you love him. Your voice is shrill with panic, “Joel!”
Joel pulls out of you swiftly, against what he really wants, and he lets go of his hold on your thighs that then drop to the floor. The man lets out a wanton moan as he firmly grips his cock, soaked in your juices, and strokes himself to completion. Several white ropes shoot across your lower stomach and pubic mound. Your lips part at the sight with upturned brows. You throw your head back in relief now that the ordeal was finally over. Your body shakes with tremors as it registers the hot fluid on your skin and the sudden emptiness and reprieve from being mounted.
It isn’t long before your consciousness starts to fade. You can hear Joel saying something to you, that he loves you, but it sounds muffled. You can feel his weight shift off of you and something, perhaps his shirt, wipe his semen off of you. You can feel words tumble from your lips, per se, but the sound doesn’t quite register in your ears. You feel the warmth from his body heat press into your side before you lose consciousness altogether.
Joel’s hand runs through your hair as he spoons you. With some reluctance he had redressed himself and you. He wanted to sleep next to you skin to skin but decided against it in the freezing late autumn air. He presses kisses into your hair with an arm snaked around your body. Joel already knew things would never go back to the way they had been the last few years between you two. He just had to make sure you knew that too. That his feelings towards you were undeniable and you had no choice but to understand him. He had thought about how things would be once you returned to Jackson. No matter the outcome one thing was for certain; you couldn’t possibly pretend this night in the cabin didn’t happen. Now, after everything, you couldn’t possibly be friends. He knew from here on out the both of you were forever changed.