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kkcauseway · 10 months

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Oh Baby P1

The life you've always wanted- Joel x F!reader

Chapter summary: You and Joel had been actively trying for a baby for a couple of months, you made the decision to finally take the leap and expand your family. You're happy and safe in Jackson surrounded by family, Ellie is thriving and so the only thing missing is a baby. Chapter warnings/content: Tw-morning sickness, talks of previous illnesses. Fluff, Joel being ADORABLE and happy and just ugh (Actually bad how much I love this man I swear.) No use of Y/N. Wordcount: 3.8K A/N: hope you enjoy! This is my favourite series that I’ve ever written. So I hope you love it as much as I’ve loved writing it!!

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You and Joel have been actively trying for a baby for a couple of months, deciding to finally take the leap and expand your family. You’ve lived in Jackson for three years. Maria first brought you here after finding you injured so you could be nursed back to health. Offering you a place to stay once you recovered. Since then you’ve always stuck with her and Tommy and the three of you became very close after a short space of time. That’s how you met Joel, after he and Ellie too finally settled in Jackson. Firstly watching from a distance as he began repairing his relationship with his brother, finding it much harder to get Maria to warm to him, but it happened eventually. Then you two were introduced, and the rest is history. You and Joel have now been together ‘officially’, for just over a year, but have known each other for over two. You fell in love incredibly fast and the idea of a baby, whilst Joel’s petrified, he’s also quite excited.

🩷🤍🩷

It's a sunny morning and you wake early, head resting on Joel’s naked chest, exactly how you'd fallen asleep after he kissed your forehead a final time to say goodnight; your legs intertwined, his arm wrapped around you, hand resting steady on your hip. You lie there for a couple of minutes, your head slightly raising with each rise of Joel’s chest, listening in tune to his heartbeat. You nuzzle into his chest hair, forever grateful for how warm he is, when you suddenly put a hand to your stomach. Something feels different? this morning. Whilst you’re stuck on this thought, your stomach contents suddenly begin to churn, and it doesn’t take long for you to realise it’s not going to settle down. You shoot out of bed, not caring that you’re naked, shoving Joel off you and run into the bathroom. Planting your knees to the floor, as you heave into the toilet bowl. The abrupt getting out of bed, causes Joel to jolt awake; confused. And when he finally fully wakes, enough to take in his surroundings, he can hear you in the bathroom.

Whilst you continue to retch over the toilet seat, emptying your body of the contents of the night before, you can hear Joel shuffling on his bare feet, making his way towards you. He kneels next to you and brings a hand to your back, stroking it in circles. “S’going on baby?”

After a couple of seconds you’re finally able to take a breath and can rest your head on one of your arms that’s hugging the toilet bowl you moan “I don’t know, woke up feeling weird and now this, man I really hope it’s not the fever Ellie had. Ugh.” You lift your head to rub at your temples.

Two weeks ago, Ellie had come down with some kind of flu, nobody had any idea where it had come from, but she was bed ridden for the first five days. And has only began feeling completely better about three days ago. You stayed with her the most, opting out of patrolling to be there to help her in any way she needed; holding her hair back as she hurled, talking to her, helping her calm down after her crazy, vivid dreams, and keeping her as hydrated as possible, she wouldn’t eat until day 4, but you sure as hell made sure she drank. You wondered if you would catch it, along with everyone else, especially Joel. Joel was petrified of you catching it too, but you had been fine up until now. This mornings shenanigans being the first sign of any symptoms.

Joel reaches his hand round to your forehead and holds it there. “You don’t feel like you have a fever baby, you might be slightly warm, but nothing like what Ellie was. Maybe it’s just an upset stomach?” He sits there watching you a second, stroking at your back again, hating seeing you so weak and fragile “Cmon baby, let’s get you back in bed, ready to get back up?”

Just as Joel goes to stand, your breathing speeds up and another wave of nausea hit you. He bunches your hair and holds it back out of your face.

“That’s it, let it all out” Joel begins rubbing circles on your back again. You let out a painful moan, he hates seeing you like this and he knows how much you hate feeling like this. “Better out than in baby”. He utters reassuringly. It takes time but Joel’s there for you throughout.

You thought it was over, but then again you're retching, only now, your body has nothing left to give, the dry retching scratching your throat agonisingly so. Your eyes won’t stop watering, so you try your best to steady your breathing.

“Ugh, I hate being sick” you whine.

“I know baby girl, I know, m’sorry” Joel gets up and grabs a cloth and a glass of water, bringing the cloth to your lips. You take it from him and sit back on your heels, panting as you wipe your mouth. He then offers you the glass, you down the lot.

“Good girl” he praises taking the empty glass from you. “Come on, let’s get you back into bed before y’start to freeze.” Joel helps you to stand, you cuddle into his warm chest as he quickly leans round you to flush the toilet, before carefully helping to guide you back to the bedroom.

"I'm sorry" you mumble as you climb into bed.

"You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for, don't be silly." Joel tucks you back into the bed covers.

"I bet I look a right mess, didn't even get my fuckin' robe." You sigh, embarrassed. He carefully sits on the edge of the bed next to you then.

"No baby, none of that talk.” He strokes your cheek and you lean into his touch. A subconscious movement. So comfortable, so known. Natural. “Y’know you're still super sexy to me regardless, and that I’ll always help you no matter what it is. Now you get some rest, I’ll find Maria, tell her you can’t help her out at the farm today, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“N- no babe, just give me a few minutes to sort myself out, catch my breath properly, I’m sure I’ll be okay to work. I need to work. Babe I promised, I can’t let people down they need me”. You whine, tears threatening release.

“I know you hate letting people down, but this is necessary baby. You’ll be no help t’anyone when you’re like this. Maria’ll understand, plus it wasn’t a choice, you’re gonna stay in bed, you really aren’t well at all.”

“Okay” you mumble quietly before sighing, you know he’s right of course, you can feel just how bad you are. “Thank you Cowboy.” You squish further into the mattress then.

“Now I’m scheduled on a patrol with Tommy today, back tonight, you gonna be okay alone, or do I need to try find someone to replace me? If you need me here baby just say, y’know I’ll happily stay. Much rather be with my girl.”

“I’ll be fine, like you say probably just an upset stomach; I’m just gonna sleep it off if I’m 'not allowed to work'.” You try to look at him with a cheeky grin, but the sickness is still so evident on your face. Pale skin, dark bags under your eyes.

“Yeah” he sighs. “You're staying home today baby, rest up” he urges kissing your forehead as he strokes your cheek once more.

Joel leaves the house after you practically beg him to leave. He’s so overly concerned for you it made it painful to see him go. Yet all he would do is stress, the patrol will be a good distraction and it means you can just sleep. You love that he cares for you so deeply. Encasing yourself in the sheets, lying on Joel’s pillow to be surrounded by his smell it doesn’t take long for sleep to overcome you. About an hour or so later, you wake to a knock at the front door, you tie your robe round you and make your way to the front door. Noticing you feel much better now, sickness seemingly subsided completely. Hallelujah!

Opening the door Maria’s stood staring at you, her, and Tommy’s two year old son Ted pressed to her hip, sleeping with his head squished into her shoulder, his teddy turtle gripped by his small palm. Worry is written all over Maria's expression. So you’re quick to move out of the way of the door, allowing her entry. Nobody has said anything yet but once the door is shut she breaks the silence.

“Joel says you’re sick, what’s wrong?”

“To be honest I feel much better now, I’m not sure what came over me this morning, must have just been an stomach upset. Maybe something I ate last night? I threw up a couple of times, but I feel fine now, I’m just really stupidly tired.”

“Well, when Joel told me you woke up throwing up and couldn’t work today, I though it must’ve been Ellie's fever. Yet there was another thought in the back of my mind, and I think your symptoms have just confirmed that.”

You look to her puzzled, “confirmed what? Maria what are you talking about?” She just stares at you, as if she wants you to work it out alone. What other thought? Of course she leaves you to think and it suddenly hits you, your period is late, in fact you’ve missed two months now. The first missed month you presumed was because you were stressed due to Ellie’s illness. But two in a row. It must be. Surely? How had this not already crossed your mind?

“Oh my God, Maria! I think I’m pregnant!”

“My thoughts exactly!” she replies smiling. And then she holds out her hand giving you a box; a two pack of twenty-year-old or so pregnancy tests.

“How?”

“I have a mind for these things, you should know that by now. And it’s hardly a secret that you’ve been trying. I’m actually surprised neither you or Joel had that thought cross your mind!”

You laugh. “I think we just didn’t expect it would happen, I dunno, but holy shit, Maria I might be pregnant!”

You both race to the bathroom, Maria waiting outside of the closed door, whilst you do what needs to be done to the tests. With the flush you open the bathroom door, so Maria can enter. It only takes about 30 seconds for the bright red double lines to appear on the first test, you then look to the second, once again seeing the same result.

Squealing you hug Maria, tears in your eyes. “Oh my God, it’s finally happening! Maria, I’m gonna be a Mama! Oh, I can’t believe it!”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you two!”

The noise and the force of the hug causes little Ted to stir and he lets out a quiet whimper.

"Sorry Teddy Bear, didn't mean to wake you" you whisper.

Maria then begins stroking his head "Shhhh... Go back to sleep baby it's okay."

And just like that he’s back asleep.

“I can’t believe it Maria, and I can’t wait to tell Joel, he’s gonna be so happy, we’ve both wanted this for so long.” Tears well in your eyes once more.

“You’re gonna have a little baby you!” She exclaims.

“Eeekk! (The scream much quieter than you want it to be, but you don't want to disturb Ted anymore than you already have) "You know what, why don’t you, Tommy and Ted come for dinner tonight, I’ll cook, and can tell everyone. We need to celebrate!”

“That sounds absolutely perfect! We’ve needed some happy news like this round here for a while!” She exclaims.

🩷🤍🩷

When Joel returns home from patrol that evening, you, and Ellie are in the kitchen, Ellie’s sketching at the table, whilst you stir the pasta sauce you’re making.

“Mmm something smells gooood” Joel moans, as he traipses up behind you hugging you. He places delicate kisses at your neck.

“Hi baby.” You let go of the spoon and turn in Joel’s arms to face him, taking his face in hand and kissing his lips.

“Ughh, gross, do you two have to do that here”. Ellie pretends to gag.

You both turn to look at her.

“Sorry Ellie, but it’s not a crime for a man to miss his girl, thought you’d be used to it by now”. He laughs.

His girl, GOD, you love it when he calls you that.

“It might not be illegal, but it should be yuck, and no I will never get used to it!”

You both laugh in response.

“And if it’s any consolation” Joel releases you and begins walking over to Ellie hugging her from behind, his arms around her shoulders “I missed you too” he gives her playful kisses all over her face -that he knows she hates. You laugh watching the moment unfold. Ellie squirms from the interaction. “Ewwww gross, get off meee!” she squeaks. Joel eventually backs away laughing as he does. She playfully scowls at him.

You’re already laughing and it doesn’t take long for Ellie and Joel to join you. Man you love your little family, and the thought of it growing even more makes your heart feel as though it could explode.

Joel turns back to look at you then, noticing the colour’s returned to your cheeks. "Feelin’ better now I take it?"

"Mmm, loads better thank you, I invited Tommy and Maria over for dinner. They’ll be here soon, should be a nice evening" you smile.

”Sounds lovely” Joel agrees. He has no idea.

Turning back to the pot, you suggest Joel and Ellie go and sit in the living room, it won’t be long till Tommy and Maria arrive and you need to make sure everything’s prepped for dinner. They’re too distracting with their teasing ways so you kick them out of the kitchen, they can piss each other off elsewhere. Tonight has to be perfect! You try thinking of the best way to break the news. Devising how, when, where.

🩷

Tommy and Maria soon arrive with little Ted, who’s freshly awake from a nap. He energetically runs straight to his Uncle, who picks him up embracing him. “Hey little man!” “Hi Jo!” You laugh at his pronunciation of Joel's name. You watch the way Joel is with that little boy, it as per usual causes your heart to flutter. And now he’s going to be a dad again; he’s going to do the most amazing job. You secretively place a hand to your stomach stroking slightly. Still flat but so full of happiness, hope.

When dinner is finally plated and served you all sit round the dinner table, Ted playing in the living room with his already full belly, Joel offers to open the bottle of white wine in the centre of the table. All part of your plan. Pouring Maria’s, Tommy’s, his own, and then when he goes to pour for you, (best for last, as he always says) you stop him. “Not for me tonight, thank you.”

Tommy, Ellie, and Joel all look to you shocked; you never say no to a glass of wine.

“No wine? Jeez what’s wrong” Tommy jokingly questions you with a laugh.

Maria elbows him.

“Ouch!”

“What, haven’t you heard?" You quiz their perplexed faces.

All three of them look at you puzzled. You turn to Maria:

"Oh my, my, Maria, I thought it was common knowledge, but obviously not."

Maria laughs in response. Not one hundred percent sure on your plan, but aware of what the outcome is going to be so she plays along.

"Well everyone knows, or well I THOUGHT everyone did, that it’s bad to drink if you’re expecting” you smile.

“Expecting what?” Ellie quickly speaks up. Oblivious.

Joel stands still in his spot, staring at you. “Wha- you mean?”

“Yeah!” You exclaim.

He shoves the bottle of wine onto the table and pulls you out of your chair and into his embrace. Crying and laughing, he grips onto you with so much love. Full of desperation to have you even closer. He kisses you over and over on the lips, before finally pushing you, arms-length away from him, so he can carefully caress your still flat stomach.

Finally, on watching Joel’s actions it computes in Ellies head, “Holyyyy shit!” She stands from her seat. “So, I’m finally gonna be a big sister woAHHHH.”

Joel embraces you once more and turns to Ellie. “Seems that you are kiddo.”

“Congrats!” Ellie walks closer to you, inviting you both into a hug, before getting down on her knees in front of you. She brings her lips right onto your stomach; “Hi baby, about time you came along” she whispers. You laugh wetly at her response.

When you had first started trying for a baby, you'd asked Ellie how she felt about it, because the last thing you wanted was for her to feel pushed aside or replaced. She was elated with the idea, and was just as nervous as you and Joel were for it to happen. So it’s a massive relief for all three of you, that it's a dream, finally being made into a reality.

You stroke a hand into Ellie's hair and smile as you take in the moment. Home, the most wonderful place to be, you don’t think you could be happier than you are right this second. In the arms of the man you love, being embraced by Ellie too as you have Joel's baby, no yours and his baby inside of you. YOUR BABY! IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING!

Ellie finally stands back up, “I’m starving” she groans, walking back over to the table with the goal of wolfing down her food, you and Joel too make your way back over to your seats.

“Congrats to you both!” Tommy shouts across the table.

“Thankyou!” you say in unison.

“Knew it must’ve been something drastic for you be saying no to wine” he cheekily utters.

“Tommy Miller, you cheeky bastard!” You exclaim shaking your head as you laugh.

“Hehe nah I’m only playin, I’m happy for y’all. About time my big brother had some added responsibilities!” He grins.

“Tommy!” Maria scolds at the same time as Joel playfully kicks his shin under the table, causing him to jolt and knee the table.

He turns to look at his brother “I’m only playin’ you know I’m happy for you! You took the piss outa me all the time when we were having Ted even after he was born.” He rubs his knee “You’d done the dad thing before I hadn’t, and you always used that to your advantage. So I think it’s about time I get my own back!”

Joel looks to you shocked.

You sit up straighter in your seat “don’t look at me Miller!” You hold your hands up in surrender “you know exactly what you were doin’ to him!”

He shakes his head “Forever a grudge holder huh baby brother?” He questions playfully focusing back on his brother’s gaze. “Even turnin’ my girl against me?”

He shrugs with a cheeky smile still caked on his face “I am genuinely happy for you both I do mean that. From the bottom of my heart. Plus Ted’s gonna love having a little friend and I for one am not ashamed to admit that I miss the newborn stage! So Uncle Tommy is very much looking forward to newborn snuggles! But to answer your question yes, I’m gonna love every second of watching you sweat over the next 9 months”

You smile at that. Tommy’s cute, but him and his brother are forever in competition, they love each other dearly but love pissing each other off more. This is your family. Your dysfunctional PERFECT family. With the news out, hearts aflutter, emotions high you all begin to eat your meals, chatting any old nonsense. Once the meal is over and the dishes are clean. You offer Tommy and Maria a nightcap. You all sit chatting away, them three on the three seater, Ellie on her stomach on the floor, face hidden within the confines of her sketchbook adding to the conversation every so often , and you’re snuggled on the armchair. Maria, Tommy, and Joel all have a whiskey, whilst you’re stuck with herbal tea. Not that you’d change the reason for that that for the world. Ted is napping upstairs, Joel having worn him out but it’s not long until you hear him stir.

Maria goes to stand, as you move too “I can go?”. You ask her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah course, best start getting some more practice in anyways, plus, me and Teddy are besties, and I haven’t had a cuddle in AGES!” You moan.

“Baby, he was literally cuddled up to you and fell asleep on you, what like not even an hour ago?” Joel replies laughing.

“Exactly Cowboy, that’s tooooo long without a Teddy cuddle, and seriously they’re the best when he’s still sleepy.”

“Amen. They really are!” Tommy butts in.

“I’ll be back” you wink.

You climb the stairs and walk into yours and Joel’s bedroom where Tommy has set up the travel cot.

“Mama?” he asks sleepily rubbing his eyes.

“Hi Teddy, no not Mama it’s T” you whisper (Ted can’t say aunty, when he tried it came out as T, and well it stuck)

“T!” he almost screams in excitement. His voice laced in sleep.

“Hi! My bestest boy, you wana come down and see Mama and Daddy?”

“Yeh” he rubs his eyes again and then lifts his arms up for you to grab him.

You lift him with a groan. He’s wearing blue, star pattern footie pyjamas. Once in your arms, he settles quickly into your side, before abruptly raising his head again.

"Oh, Where Tudle!"

"Here, I'll get him for you" You reach into the travel cot and grab his teddy turtle. You give it to him and he smiles as he holds it in both his hands and stretches his arms up "Yay Tudle!"

"You really love turtle don't you Teddy Bear?"

"Yah!" After he and turtle have had their moment, he places it into his one hand and puts the thumb of his other into his mouth. Cuddling once again into your side. He’s always so warm and cuddly. You walk back out of the room and make your way back downstairs.

“There he is!” Tommy shouts.

Ted rather than removing his thumb from his mouth, shouts a muffled but clear enough “Daddy!”

You walk over to Tommy, and he takes Ted off you, sitting him in his lap. You then make your way back over to the armchair.

“Did you have a good sleep bud?” Tommy asks.

“Yeh! An tudle” he holds his turtle up into his dads face.

His mispronunciation of turtle forever making everyone laugh.

“Turtle did too huh?”

“Yeh! An now no sleep.”

“No, you’re awake now bud, you can stay awake till we go home, okay?”

“Kay!”

Tommy then passes Ted to Maria, planting a kiss to the top of his head.

“Hi Mama”

“Hey! You look very sleepy, baby Teddy.” She says wiping the underneath of his eyes.

“I no sleepy, I awake.”

“Yeah you’re awake now…” she kisses into his hair before adding “Hey Baby, did you say hi to Uncle Joel?” Maria asks pointing to him.

He looks to Joel, “Hi!” big grin on his face.

He really is the sweetest little boy; you can’t help but smile at him and the way Joel acts with him.

“Why hello little man, I heard you and turtle slept real good in our room!” he smiles back at Ted.

“Tudle say fanks”. He holds his turtle up again.

“Well turtle is very welcome, and you tell him he can sleep over any day he wants”.

“Yay!” at this, Ted shimmies out of his mothers grip and runs the short length over to Joel, hugging his legs. Ever since the kid learnt to walk you swear, he’s got faster and faster. Joel grabs him to sit onto his lap and pulls him into a tight embrace. His entire body covering Joel’s chest he lies there comfortably putting his thumb back into his mouth. You don’t know why, but it’s as if your emotions are now on overdrive, pregnancy hormones don’t kick in this early, do they? Well, whether they do or not, you’re crying. They’re happy tears, but you’re crying. You sniffle, slightly louder than you mean to, and everyone’s gaze turns to you, including Ted’s.

Joel quickly takes Ted off his lap and places him on the sofa next to him. He shoots up “Baby what’s wrong?”

“Joel I’m okay I promise” you laugh “It was just a cute moment, and I couldn’t stop the tears, they’re happy tears. Pinky promise”.

"Oh pregnancy hormones, I remember them well" Maria butts in.

“Jesus” he gasps “You had me worried for a second”.

“Well, you know me Miller, like to keep you on your toes” you reply laughing again, but still crying.

The next thing you know, you hear the soft taps of tiny feet padding towards you and then feel a soft pulling on the blanket you have draped over you. “Jo help”, you laugh at the tiny voice, and Joel bends down to scoop Ted up, placing him on your lap.

“T why cwying?”

He cuddles into you.

“I’m okay Teddy baby, I’m just very happy”. You wipe away your remaining tears.

“Happy yay! tudle happy too.” He holds his turtle up once again. You swear he’s the happiest little boy.

“Yeah, I’m happy Teddy bear and I’m very glad to hear turtle is too.”

Ted then persists to ask everyone else in the room if they’re happy. Once it’s concluded that everyone’s happy, especially because Ted is here. (Which he felt very proud in knowing.) You have something very special to tell him.

“Hey, Teddy bear?”

He turns his gaze back to you.

“We have something to tell you”. He looks to Joel, who’s crouched down the side of the armchair, nodding, then back to you.

“It’s very special kiddo!” Joel adds.

Ted nods in response.

“So, Teddy bear, you remember how I told you that before you were born, you were in Mama’s tummy?”

“Yah” he nods turning to look at Maria and points at her. “There” he then looks back at you.

“Yeah, good remembering Baby!” Maria praises him from across the room.

“Well, now there's one in here!” you point to your own tummy.

“A BABY?!”

“Yeah, Teddy bear in T’s tummy” Joel adds.

He grabs you t-shirt and pulls it up, so a bit of your tummy shows “In there?”

“Yeah, in there, good job bud!” Tommy pipes up.

“Ooooo!”

You all laugh for a moment before Ellie pipes up. Coming to kneel next to where Ted’s sitting.

“Hey Ted, you know how I look after you, cus I’m bigger and we play lots and lots of games?”

“Yah!”

“Well, when this baby comes, you will be lots bigger, so you will have to help me to look after them”

“I help, pwomise.”

“Good, high five!”

They high five. And you laugh again, you never thought there would be a point in your life where you would be this happy. Especially with the added ‘end of the world’ element.

“El can draw?”

“You wana draw? Sure, bud come on”, she helps him off the chair and he runs over to her space on the floor. Sitting on the floor crossing his legs.

When Ellie and Ted are out of your space, you take a second to take in your surroundings. Ellie is thriving in Jackson life and dotes just as much as everyone else on precious Ted; She’s going to be the best big sister. Tommy and Maria are cuddled on the sofa laughing. They really are the best people so besotted with one another. And then there’s Joel, the love of your life, the father of your child. You turn to him and find he’s watching you. You look back into his eyes and you both smile. He lifts an arm and rests the palm of his hand on your stomach. You look down as you place your hand atop his, but then lift your gaze back to his eyes. He's smiling so wide. "I love you", he utters softly. "I love you too Cowboy".

Life is good, and it's about to get so much better.

Next I Series Masterlist I Main Masterlist

#joel miller #the last of us #angst #maria the last of us #tommy miller #pregnancy #pregnant #joel and ellie #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #fluff #You and Joel #After the outbreak #ellie williams #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic

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boxofbonesfic · 1 year

Photo

Title: Seek

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Divorcee! Reader

Summary: You are forced to share your hiding spot with one incorrigible cretin—Joel Miller. But, maybe that’s not so bad.

Word Count: 8,369

Warnings: 18+ Only, Fluff, Comedy, Shameless Smut, Breeding, Pre-Outbreak, Intoxication, Fluff, MINORS DNI!

A/N: a little peek at the night Joel and the Reader first got together. AKA that time Sarah played matchmaker with two grown adults. 😂 enjoy! divider is by @firefly-graphics

“Hello, neighbor.” The low, sultry drawl, makes you swallow tightly. Oh God. You’re glad your hands are stuck wrist deep in the dirt, otherwise they’d be shaking. You take a few tries to school your features into what you hope is a casual smile, and not a grimace of abject panic as you glance over your shoulder at him.

“Hey, Joel.” Your ruggedly handsome neighbor leans against the fence, folding his thickly corded forearms over the pickets. You offer him the sincerest smile you can muster. God his fucking sleeves are rolled up—you fight the urge to ruin it by sinking your teeth into your lower lip. His eyes flick down, and then back up to your face.

“You doin’ some gardenin’?” You don’t know why, but the quirk of his lips makes your stomach knot.

“Y-yeah. W-well, you know. I thought I’d get outside today, since it’s been raining so much.” You say, sticking the spade into the dirt as you turn to face him. You’re acutely aware of the mud on the hem of your yellow sundress now, and you know he must see it too. Goddammit. You feel like every time you talk to him you embarrass yourself—especially now. Nervously and out of habit, you touch your thumb to your ring finger through the gloves, feeling its absence.

Before, at least, you’d had Howard as a buffer, though Joel had never much seemed to like your husband. Ex-husband.

“Mm, yeah. Hopin’ it stays nice, you know Sarah’s birthday’s on Saturday,” He says, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the pickets. “Comin’ up fast.”

“Oh yeah,” you say, nodding with a smile. “I’ll have to bring something over. Wait—she doesn’t do dolls anymore, right? She’s too old for that now.”

“Dolls? Damn kid’s asking me for a phone,” Joel mutters darkly, smoothing a frustrated hand down his face. “A phone.” You can’t help but laugh. “Anyway, I wanted to, you know, let you know you’re invited. Whole neighborhood is, we’ll have games and food. The works.”

“Oh, sure!” You’re not sure why you’re nervous. It’s not a special invitation, it’s open to the entire block. Still, you feel an apprehensive sort of giddiness growing in your tight stomach when he smiles at you encouragingly.

“I’d love to come, I’ll um, I’ll bake something.” You pass your tongue over your lips, and Joel’s eyes follow the movement, lingering before his eyes dart back up to yours. Imagining things. You’re definitely imagining things. You’d have to be—you’re a thirty-something year old divorcee with little to show for it other than the fixer-upper Howard had been glad to leave you. You’re not hot-single-neighbor material.

“That’ll be great.” He fixes you with another boyish smile and you hate the way your stupid stomach tightens when he does. “Sarah loves your apple crumble.” You try to hide your bashful smile behind one of your gardening gloves.

“Joel Miller, you know better than to lie to me over my own fence,” you chide, and he chuckles.

“Yes ma’am I do,” he says, winking at you as the corners of his full lips turn up underneath the mustache. “That’s why I told the truth.” You cluck your tongue at him, and begin gathering your gardening tools into the wide wicker basket you keep them in. You heft them up with a grunt, and he shakes his head.

“Looks heavy. Let me give you a hand.” Before you can protest, he’s jogging around to the spot where your fences meet, and slipping in through the open gate.

“I-I can handle it,” you protest meekly as he holds out one calloused hand, beckoning with his fingers. You step back a little defensively, hesitating. “I carried it all the way out here from the shed by myself.” Joel merely raises an eyebrow and lifts his hand a little higher.

“I know, Sugar. You’re a big girl, you can do it all by yourself,” he says in that filthy smooth baritone. “Doesn’t mean you have to.” Flustered, you let him have the basket, brushing hopelessly at your dress as you follow him to the backyard shed.

“Well, it’s just me, so,” you scurry forward to pull open the door, and you watch him place the basket on the dusty work table. You’re not much of a crafts person, beyond the occasional gardening DIY, so it’s gone mostly unused since Howard moved out.

“I’m real sorry about that, by the way,” Joel says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. The look of pity on his face makes you shift uncomfortably. “But I can’t exactly say that I’m sorry he’s gone.” You laugh. The sound is brittle. Like my marriage was.

“Don’t be.” Joel’s fingers trail across Howard’s old work-bench, leaving lines in the dust as he inspects it.

“Oh, hey,” Joel says, leaning over. He reaches underneath bench and pulls something bright yellow out from underneath it. “Speak of the devil,” he mutters. After a confused second of squinting, you realize it’s a staple-gun. “Knew he never returned this.” Your face burns with embarrassment as you pinch the bridge of your nose. The result, no doubt, of one of Howards many unfinished DIY projects, the ones you always seemed to end up cleaning up and finding space for in the basement.

“God, he’s not even here and Howard’s still embarrassing me,” you say. “I’m sorry, I would have given it back if I’d known.” You watch Joel shake his head.

“That’s not on you. Besides, I’ve got it back now, so. No harm, no foul.” He tucks it into the waistband of his jeans before stepping out of the little shed and closing the door behind him. He smiles at you again, and you swear the only thing keeping you from melting into a puddle of jelly is the force of your will alone.

“You let me know if there’s anything around the house that needs doing. You cleaned your gutters since Howard left?” He asks, and your face burns again as you hurriedly shake your head.

“N-no,” you admit. “But you really—I don’t want to put you to the trouble, Joel.”

“S’no trouble.” He says with a wink, heading for the back gate. “I’ll be by tomorrow. You’ve got a ladder, don’t you, Sugar?”

—

You’re in your pajamas when Joel shows up, bright and early. The sound of the doorbell jolts you up from the kitchen table, where you’d positioned yourself so that you could see the television through the doorway. Watching the morning news rather mindlessly while you had your coffee was your new morning routine, and though it felt a little lonely and empty, it was certainly better than screaming matches with Howard about how inadequate of a wife you were to him, so you relished it.

You realize belatedly that the tie for your robe is upstairs as you’re fumbling with the locks, pulling open the door with an exasperated Hello before you realize exactly who’s on the other side of your front door.

“Howdy, neighbor.” That southern twang—the one you don’t have—is like syrup, each syllable running smoothly into the next as it slides pleasurably into your ears. You’re sure the heat rising in your chest and neck is due to your own embarrassment as you unsuccessfully try to tug the flaps of your robe shut with one hand. It’s definitely not because Joel is looking at me funny.

“J-Joel, I—morning,” you say, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears self consciously as you offer him an apologetic smile. “I didn’t, um. I didn’t know you’d be over so early. I thought you, um. Liked to get a, a late start in the mornings.”

“That’s true,” he says, nodding as he tucks his thumbs into his belt loops. “But I can get up for the important things.” He rocks forward on to the balls of his feet, the leather on his boots creaking. “So, Sugar, where’s that ladder?” You feel warm when he looks at you, so warm you’re surprised steam isn’t whistling out of your ears like a kettle.

“In the, um, in the shed.” You turn to head back into the house, but stop. “Do you need me to—” He meets the glance you shoot him over your shoulder with a stern lift of his brow.

“I got it. You go on and enjoy your coffee, now.” Joel tips his head at you, and then reaches forward to pat you just above your hip. “Go on. Scoot.”

The screen door swings shut behind you as you turn smartly to do as you’re told, and it’s only when you’re two steps into the kitchen that you realize your hip is still warm from where he touched you. You shiver.

Joel’s just friendly.

You repeat that back to yourself dozens of times as you shower, dress, and ready yourself for the day. It’s embarrassing, but you don’t have much to do now that you don’t have Howard to pick up after. Stay-at-home-wife was just another word for nanny to him, and now, five years into your marriage and ten months post divorce, you’re still struggling to find a way to fill your time. You can live off the alimony, sure, but you want something more meaningful to do, even if it doesn’t pay much.

Joel is still up on the roof by the time you come back downstairs, but you aren’t down there long before you hear him tapping at the kitchen window. You unlock the back door, and the sight of Joel leaned up against your doorframe greets you when you open it. He’s busy toeing off his muddy workboots, but he glances up at you with a lopsided smile.

“Mind if I clean off? I’ve got to head to the site after this.”

“Totally, sure, um, you remember where the bathroom is?” You ask, and he nods.

“Down the hall to the right, innit?” He asks over his shoulder, and you nod. His arms and cheek are splattered with the same muck that you assume has been clogging your gutters, and you feel even guiltier knowing he has to head to his actual job after this. Where are my manners? You ask yourself guiltily, hurrying to fetch a glass from the cabinet. You don’t have any food you can offer him, but you go for the peach iced tea in the fridge and pour him a tall glass. He’d come over and done hard work for you, and you hadn’t even offered him something to drink.

Shameful, your grandmother’s shrill voice hisses at you through your memories. Just shameful. No wonder you couldn’t keep a man. With your teeth set into your bottom lip, you head for the hallway, intending to head Joel off before he gets to the front door.

You aren’t expecting to crash headlong into him.

“Shit!” You curse as cold tea splashes against your chest and the glass in your fingers tumbles to the rug. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t get you, did I?” You look guiltily up at Joel and your heart seizes in your chest. He’s shirtless in your hallway, his face and chest damp and his t-shirt balled up in one fist. Logically, you know it’s because he obviously can’t go to work covered in gutter-crap, but you can’t think about that now, not when you’re following the happy trail starting at his belly button all the way down the waistband of his pants and God fucking dammit I’m staring like a creep—

“No, Sugar. All dry,” he laughs, interrupting the rambling chain of your thoughts. “Can’t say the same for you.” He gestures down at your shirt before shrugging into his own. “Was that sweet tea?” Joel asks, a mournful note in his voice.

“Yes—let me get you another glass,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the fallen glass before you rush back into the kitchen. Clumsy, stupid—you put it carefully in the sink before fetching a fresh cup from the cabinet, and you fill that one too. “Joel, I—oh.” You turn to call him into the kitchen, only to find him right behind you. His smile is slow syrup the way his voice is, and you find yourself feeling like a knock-kneed teenager at the sight of it.

“That for me?” Joel asks, and you nod wordlessly, unable to form words around the hot lump of embarrassment that forms in your throat. “Thank you, Sugar,” he purrs, plucking the glass from your limp fingers. “I was powerful thirsty.” He tips his head back, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob beneath the scruff of his beard as he swallows.

You’re grateful for the refrigerator against your back, because you know you’d slide right down to your tasteful linoleum tiles in a heap without it when he lets out a satisfied moan. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth, and then chases the stray droplets with his tongue.

“Should bring a whole pitcher of that by the house when you come by on Saturday. Folks’ll go crazy for it.”

Your brain is still short circuiting from his closeness, the smell of his cologne, the sight of his tanned, perfect chest—so you just nod dumbly, your lips slightly parted as you stare. Closing mouth in three, two, one—

“Uh, um. Yeah. Tea.” Jesus fuck, why is my mouth so dry? You stumble over the words, feeling like there are a hundred glass marbles in your mouth as you try to pronounce them properly. “So, um. Saturday?”

“Saturday.” Joel hands you back the glass, and winks. “Don’t drop it this time.” He pauses in the doorway, tapping his hand against the frame a few times. “And you’ll let me know when I can come by to cut that grass, wontcha, Sugar? Needs mowin’.”

I absolutely will not. “Sure thing. I-I mean, you don’t have to, really—”

“Just bein’ neighborly is all,” he calls over his shoulder as the screen door swings shut behind him. You watch the top of his head go by the kitchen window before you slump against the refrigerator.

“Neighborly.” You mutter in disbelief, pinching the bridge of your nose. You make your way back upstairs to change your shirt—the tea is starting to get sticky against your skin.

—

By the time Saturday rolls around, you’ve almost talked yourself completely out of attending.

You should not be this nervous about am eleven year old’s birthday party, you chastise yourself, shifting from foot to foot as you wait for someone to answer the door. There’s music coming from the backyard, and you can smell food, and the charcoal from the grill. You step back a little as the door opens, and you’re both surprised and relieved to see it isn’t Joel. And you’re glad for it, considering you’ve been studiously avoiding him.

Sarah greets you with a friendly smile, waving you inside. “Mrs. Leeman, hi!” She closes the door behind you. “Thank you for coming! You didn’t have to do that,” she says, gesturing at the covered apple crumble and sealed jug of peach tea in your hands. Sarah moves to take one from you, and you hand over the jug gratefully. “But this is way better than the cake uncle Tommy got. He went to Penny Saver.”

You laugh. “You’re welcome. I wasn’t exactly sure what to get you,” you admit, “but your dad said you’ve been wanting a phone?” You ask, and she rolls her eyes, starting towards the kitchen. You’ve only been here once or twice, to use the bathroom the few times Howard had deigned to take part in any neighborhood festivities. She sets the jug on the table.

“Ugh, yeah. But he says I’m too young.”

You lean in conspiratorially. “Well, how about I join team get Sarah a phone and try to help convince him, huh?” Carefully, you place the crumble on the table. “I’ll pay for your first month.”

Sarah’s eyes brighten. “Really? Yeah, oh my God that might actually work! Thanks, um, Mrs. Leeman. And for the crumble too, I asked special.”

“Just ‘Ms’, now,” you say with a little laugh. Sarah’s smile widens a little, turning up at the corners like she knows something you don’t know. And it isn’t Leeman anymore, either.

“Oh, right. I’m sorry,” she says, and you can tell she’s really trying to pour on the sincerity. She’s good—but she’s not that good. “I forgot you’re single now.” You quirk an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” You answer slowly. “Kind of a weird way to put it, but yes?” You chalk it up to teenage awkwardness, watching amusedly as Sarah plucks the candles out of the admittedly generic cake Tommy bought, and presses them into the crumble instead.

“Everybody’s outside,” she chirps, wiping her hands off on her jeans. “Uncle Tommy, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, my dad,” she adds. “You should totally go say hi.” Casting another suspicious glance at Sarah, you make your way over to the back door. Once your eyes adjust to the bright summer sun, you see that Joel’s backyard is chaos; every kid in the neighborhood is there, along with most of the families in your corner of the cul-de-sac.

You pretend you don’t immediately spot Joel on the grill, his sleeves rolled up as he chats with his brother. You’ve only met Tommy once or twice and only in passing, but you remember him just fine. Your eyes meet, and he leans over, elbowing Joel. He says something too, but you’re too far away to hear it. Joel begins to turn around, and you hurriedly busy yourself at the punch bowl.

God, this is pathetic. You berate yourself as you spoon out punch into a little paper cup. Just say hi, you stupid idiot. You feel stupid and giddy around Joel, like a middle-schooler with her first crush only worse, because you’re two decades past the expiration date on this behavior. Not to mention he’s your neighbor.

And God knows you aren’t the best at reading signals—it had taken you years to realize that your marriage, your relationship, was dead in the water. Joel isn’t interested, he can’t be. At most, you assume he feels a sort of half hearted pity for you. I’m like the one-eyed cat at the shelter.

“Hey there Judy, thanks for comin’.” You hear Joel’s voice behind you, and you tense—He’s coming this way. You chance a glance over your shoulder and swallow audibly. He’s making a beeline right for you. Is it too late to go back inside? You know the thought is futile, it’s most certainly far too late for that.

“Hi, I mean, you know, welcome to the party,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets after an awkward moment of holding them out, almost like he was going to hug you and then thought better of it.

“Yeah, Sarah was…enthusiastic about the cake.” You’re trying to think of a word to describe her weird behavior. “Maybe a little too much,” you laugh a little. Joel shakes his head and mutters something under his breath you can’t quite make out—“damn kid sticking her nose in where it doesn’t—” Before he shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Kid’s a mystery to me sometimes,” he replies with a huff. He squints, like he’s looking for her in the crowd. You follow his line of sight right to Sarah, laughing with her friends.

“She’s a good one.”

“Lord knows,” Joel sighs. “I was raising hell at her age.” He turns back to you. “I’m really glad you could make it.” His smile is so bright you’re forced to look somewhere else, for fear of going weak in the knees.

“N-no problem. I’m, um, I’m happy to get out of the house,” you admit. “I’ve been kind of… I don’t know. Bored? Since Howard left.” You look down at the punch cup in your hands. “Is that weird? I don’t miss him or anything, I just… I guess I never realized how much time he was taking. Wasting.” You shake your head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“No, no, please,” Joel looks at you almost imploringly. “I don’t mind.” He leans against the table behind you. “I’ve been there. Losing yourself is surprisingly easy. It’s the finding yourself after that’s hard.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Listen I—”

“Joel, you wanna serve burnt burgers or what?” Tommy calls from the grill, pointing at the thick smoke curling up from it. Joel curses.

“Dammit, Tommy—I’ll be right back.”

He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, and you swallow back the unexpected disappointment at the interruption. It’s probably a good thing though, you think to yourself as you spy Tricia Gibbins, also newly divorced, eyeing you with a scowl.

You offer her a weak smile in response, before turning back to your drink. Joel’s a hot commodity, and you know you’re not the only single woman in the neighborhood with eyes. Joel has an easy sort of confidence about him, the kind that comes from working with your hands and being good at it. The kind that isn’t unearned.

As Joel averts the crisis at the grill, you mingle. Chatting up the neighbors you haven’t really seen since the divorce. It’s awkward at first, but you get over that quickly enough. It’s oddly comforting, feeling like you’re part of the community at large again, instead of the weird shut-in with the mean husband. Oddly, Joel keeps finding reasons to be close to you, joining in the conversations you’re having as he sidles up next to you, offering to refresh your drink each time you finish it. And when he brings out the crumble from the kitchen—much to Tommy’s chagrin—he thanks you specifically for providing it, and your cheeks heat as you duck your head, embarrassedly enduring the round of applause that follows.

If Gibbins didn’t hate me already, she definitely does now.

You help cut and serve it, trying to ensure each partygoer at least has the option of having a piece. As Sarah wolfs down her piece after blowing out her candles, she and her friends share a conspiratorial look.

“We were thinking of playing a party game, dad,” she says, cocking her head at him. “Kids versus grown-ups.” Joel takes a sip of his beer, cocking his head skeptically.

“And what game would that be, young lady?”

“Manhunt! Come on, dad, please? Everyone really wants to play!” Sarah gestures eagerly at the gaggle of kids behind her, pushing and shoving and giggling nervously as the adults look them over. Sarah rocks excitedly back and forth on her tip-toes as her father debates it. Sarah looks at you imploringly.

“Please? Last game of the night, I promise! You’ll play, won’t you?”

“Ah hell,” Tommy curses, finishing his beer before slinging the empty bottle into the trash-can by the picnic table. “Why not? Used to play this all the time growin’ up.” He casts a nostalgic look at Joel before elbowing Sarah conspiratorially. “Every summer I used to whoop your daddy’s—”

“No lying to the girl on her birthday, Tommy,” Joel replies with a chuckle, and you laugh too. “Fine then. Who all’s playin’?” Hands go up, all across the yard, and Joel nods as he takes stock of them. Howard would have insisted on leaving right about now, your charitable appearance over and done with. But Howard isn’t here to make the decision for you, and you find yourself raising your own hand, too. Perhaps it’s the warm buzz of the beer settling into your stomach making you foolish, but it’s a warm summer evening and you feel… good.

“Ground rules—nobody leaves the block, understand? No hidin’ in strangers yards.” Joel delivers the rules sternly. “

“We were thinking… we’ll seek. Time limit?” Sarah asks, suddenly all business as she leans back to consult her friends, now apparently her war-council.

“Thirty minutes.” Joel replies, holding out his hand. Sarah shakes it exaggeratedly, grinning at him. She holds up two fingers, gesturing between the two of them. “And you’ve got to find everybody to win.”

“Yeah, yeah, old man,” She calls over her shoulder as she jogs toward her friends. “You’re going down!” They’re all clustered around the side of the house, some of them already counting. You’re already thinking of the perfect hiding place, where the rosebushes meet on the left side of your porch—it’s impossible to see from the sidewalk. The participating adults are already splitting up, heading in different directions to try and outlast their children.

Giggling, you hurry back across the street, casting a suspicious glance around before you duck down behind your rosebushes. It’s silly, you know, but… it feels good too. Like you’re actually enjoying yourself instead of pretending to. Howard never would have approved of this—These are children’s games, come on—but he isn’t here, and you don’t need him to. The thought makes you practically giddy; Howard is gone, gone!

And he isn’t coming back.

You lean back against the porch, ducking lower as you hear the sound of approaching voices. As you reach back to steady yourself, your hand brushes against another. You gasp, loudly, and whirl around to see Joel, looking equally surprised. It looks like he’s come around from the opposite side of the house, staying low underneath the roses, just like you. You open your mouth to speak, but he holds up a finger, pointing behind you.

“I heard something! I think one of the grown-ups is hiding over here.” You wait with baited breath to be discovered, but the gangly teenager on the other side of the bush doesn’t come all the way up the porch steps, stopping halfway.

“Whatever, I don’t see anybody. Let’s look by the Simmons’ place!”

The sound of your gravel crunching under sneakers gradually recedes, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were there,” you whisper apologetically, and Joel laughs.

“Well you know. Great minds, and all that.” He scoots closer. “Do you mind? I can risk finding another spot if you do.”

“No, no,” you say, shaking your head. Maybe it’s the beers, making you foolishly confident, but you… want him to stay. “There’s room enough for the two of us.”

“You’re damn right there is,” Joel replies. “Grass is tall enough that we could stand in it.” You pretend to be shocked, raising a cartoonishly offended hand over your heart.

“Oh, is that how it is, Miller?” You ask. “You come over here, barge into my hiding spot, and then insult my grass? I’m pretty sure them’s fighting words, around here at least.” He edges closer, close enough that when he settles down into a sitting position, his thigh presses against yours.

“It’s almost calf high, Sugar,” he says seriously. “That’s dangerous.” You try to look sufficiently scared, and Joel smothers a laugh behind one hand.

“Danger? Here?” You bring a hand to your cheek. “How dangerous are we talking?” He fixes you with a serious look, brows knitting together as he presses his full lips into a tight line.

“Very dangerous. Trip and falls, termites, biting ants—you know. Just to name a few things.” Joel is handsome, not a fact you’re unfamiliar with. But up this close… You can see the beginnings of salt and in his thick black hair, how his warm brown eyes are flecked with gold and green, the cinnamon spice of his breath—Fireball, he was drinking Fireball—

And how soft his lips are when they brush against yours.

You’re not sure how long it takes you to realize that you’re kissing Joel Miller. Later, when you look back, you’ll realize there’s a gap in your memory, a skip, a blank space spanning from the moment his hip pressed against yours until you feel the warmth of his hand on your hip through your jeans. It’s a chaste thing, a simple press of his mouth to yours, but the realization of what’s happening makes you gasp, pulling away. For once, you’re speechless, the nervous ramble that usually accompanies these moments is notoriously absent.

Of course it’s Joel that speaks first.

“I been waitin’ to do that for six months.” He breathes. And then he leans forward, gently brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, and does it again. You release your death-grip on the latticework beneath the porch, and instead tangle your fingers in Joel’s t-shirt. He mumbles something against your lips that you don’t understand before deepening the kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you sigh against him. Joel tastes like cinnamon whiskey, hops, and faintly of tobacco—likely from the cigarette you’d seen him bum from Tommy in secret earlier.

He tastes so good you could cry. Like beer and warm summer evenings, like catching lightning bugs in jars. He tastes exactly like you thought he would.

When you part, you’re both panting, staring wild-eyed at one another as the rest of the world filters back in. Joel lets out a little laugh, resting his forehead against yours. You like how he smells, too, sandalwood and leather.

“Six months is a long time,” you say after a minute, and he laughs. Somehow, you feel both validated and incredibly stupid at the same time. “And here I thought you felt sorry for me.”

“I did, being married to that prick,” he scoffs. “I hung over that fence every other day for six months, and you never thought—?”

“No! I thought, you know, you… really wanted to mow my grass.” You answer defeatedly, and this time Joel’s booms in your ears so loud you fear the children will discover you. You laugh too, and when he pulls you close to kiss you a third time, you lean into it, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as he pulls you practically into his lap. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you card fingers through his thick hair. You’re glad you’re sitting down, because the answering husky moan he releases would have brought you to your knees.

“Dad! Thirty-minutes!” The sound of Sarah’s voice shocks the two of you apart, and you scramble off of Joel, your cheeks burning. You peek through the rose bushes, pulling aside a bud to see Sarah, standing in the middle of the street. You snicker at the sight of her. She and her friends seem to have already rounded up the other adults, and, armed with water-guns, are escorting them back to the party. You can see that Tommy’s wet, and you wonder if he tried to outrun them.

“Time’s up,” she calls. “You guys win!”

“You stay here. I’ll go first.” Joel says with a wink. “I’ll see you back at the party, okay? And we’ll finish this… discussion.” He licks his lips.

You nod, not trusting your voice not to give out on you. You watch as Joel gets a very rules-illegal squirting with Sarah’s supersoaker, and you’re glad he took the bullet for both of you as they head into the backyard. Once you’re sure no one else is really watching, you creep out, brushing stray bits of grass and twigs from your clothes. Your face still feels warm, your lips tingling where Joel’s had met them.

There isn’t much “party” left when you let yourself in through the side gate, people cleaning up with trash bags. You begin helping, clearing the tables of plastic cutlery and paper plates. There isn’t really time to talk, not really. Every time he begins to, something, someone, needs his attention. As you’re tossing bags into the trash bin, Tommy comes up behind you with another load. You hold the lid open for him, and he ducks his head gratefully.

“Thanks. So, you and my brother, huh? Manhunt neighborhood champs.” He grins at you, and you feel your face heat.

“In my defense, it was my hiding spot first.”

“That tracks.” He laughs. ”And I’m not mad, even though you dethroned my cake.”

You grin. “Sorry. I was asked.” It’s easy to see that Tommy and Joel are related, you think as you chat. They have the same easy way of moving, the same slow drawl. You think of the way his lips felt against yours again and your face warms. It had felt so right to do in that moment, but now you can’t help but wonder if it had been a mistake.

“He’s droppin’ Sarah off at her friend’s place,” Tommy says suddenly. “In case you were wonderin’.” His knowing look makes you wish the earth would open right up and swallow you into the resulting abyss. It doesn’t though, and you are forced to shoot Tommy a painfully embarrassed smile instead.

“I, um. Thanks.” You tuck your hands into your pockets to stop their nervous twitching. Somehow, this feels like a higher-stakes interaction than any of the others you’ve ever had with Tommy, and you aren’t sure why.

“No problem.” Tommy dusts his hands off of his jeans. “And he’s… Stupid. My brother. But he means well.”

“I think that makes two of us.”

You finish helping clean up, hanging around the yard awkwardly until Tommy asks you if you want to wait inside. You shake your head. Joel’s probably realized his mistake by now, you think to yourself, shaking your head as you make your way back across the street. Keys in hand, you head up the steps and unlock the door. As it swings open, the blast of a car-horn makes you yelp, jumping as you press yourself against the doorframe.

Joels truck swings haphazardly into your driveway, and he’s half out of it before it even stops. He hops the little gate in front of your porch steps, taking them two at a time as he strides towards you with purpose.

“Sugar.”

“Joel, I—” There are a thousand thoughts, all jumping to reach your mouth first. You want to kiss him again, you want to run inside and hide until he leaves, you really want to kiss him again—

“I thought I told you to wait for me,” Joel says lowly, his fingers sliding through the belt loops on your jeans to tug you close against his chest. “Weren’t finished talkin’.” His mouth is against yours before you can answer, and he gratefully swallows your gasp of surprise as his tongue presses insistently at the seam of your lips. You are aware, on some level, that you’re standing on your porch, in full view of every watchful eye on your end of the street. However, your concern for your reputation is kept well in check by the feel of Joel’s hands passing hungrily over your hips.

His fingers skate up underneath the hem of your t-shirt, and you gasp at the feel of them trailing up your sides and over your belly.

“I-inside,” you say, the word muffled by his lips. You feel the corners of his mouth curl up against your cheek as Joel loops his arms underneath your thighs. You gasp as he hoists you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you inside. Joel kicks the door shut behind him before pressing you against the wall, fitting the hard planes of his body against the softness of yours. He fits so well in between your thighs, his jean-clad hips slotting against you perfectly.

You want to be ashamed at the way your hips roll into his, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs. His hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back so that he can trail his teeth and tongue down the side of your throat.

“Fuck,” he mutters, teeth catching at the shell of your ear as one hand cups your swollen cunt through your jeans. You feel like you’re on fire, heat running underneath your skin, sparking where Joel touches you. Your head is swimming, like you’re drunk on more than just a couple of beers. Your fingers tangle in the short hair at the nape of his neck, and the throaty moan Joel releases makes your pussy clench down hard around nothing.

You drop your feet to the floor as his fingers play at the button of your jeans. He’s breathing heavy, hair askew from your attentions and eyes hungry.

“We can stop if you want to,” he says, his voice strained and husky. “You say stop, we stop.” You can tell he wants to do anything but stop, his thigh wedged between yours, and the half hard weight of his cock throbbing against you through his jeans. But you can also see he means it, that he’ll turn around and walk right back to his truck if you tell him to.

You hesitate, feeling Joel’s steady breaths against your lips as he waits for your decision. This is crazy, you reason. We’ll both regret this, and it’ll be awkward and we’ll never be able to talk to each other again—But what’s crazier is that you know you want him to stay. That you’re willing to risk it.

Maybe you’ll just be crazy for tonight.

“Stay.”

Joel surges, crashing over you like a wave. His hands—God, his hands—are everywhere, tugging up the rumpled hem of your t-shirt to cup your breasts through your bra, wiggling down under the waistband of your jeans to touch whatever skin he can—

“Y’know, Sugar,” Joel’s voice is simmering honey, is burnt sugar—“I don’t think we’re gonna make it upstairs.” You don’t think so either, not with his eager fingers tugging open the button on your jeans. Not to mention that you’re pretty sure that if he stops touching you, you might actually die. You’ve never felt this before, the all encompassing need that drives you to grind down against his proffered thigh, your hands fisting in his shirt.

Definitely not making it to the bed. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue as you feverishly work at the buttons on his shirt. You push them apart to touch his bare skin and he hums with pleasure.

He grunts frustratedly when there isn’t enough room for his huge hands in your tight jeans, tugging at them until they stick fast about halfway down your thighs. He anchors his hands underneath your hips, and you gasp as he hoists you up, taking a few wobbly steps towards the stairs.

He only makes it up three of them before he abandons the effort, setting you down. You let out a little giggle as your ass makes contact with the wood, and Joel sucks his teeth.

“Goddamn house. S’got too many stairs,” he mumbles against the side of your throat. The raspy burn of his beard against your skin is delicious as he trails kisses down your neck until he meets the collar of your shirt. “Take this fuckin’ thing off, Sugar.” Joel’s teeth tug at the fabric. He chuckles lowly when your breath catches. “Or d’you want me to do it for you?” You hurriedly tug your shirt up over your head—with Joel’s eager assistance—and his mouth crashes against yours as before it’s even cleared your hair.

Joel’s cinnamon and whiskey spiced kisses leave heat in their wake as he presses them between your breasts, pulling down the cups of your bra. He releases a pleased hum when your puffy nipples spill lewdly over the lace. The way he grins at the sight of them makes you want to combust, heat creeping up your chest and neck as he pinches them softly between his fingers. You whine, and he clucks his tongue at you, fixing you with a serious look.

“Don’t you rush me, Sugar,” he says, flicking his thumb against your nipple, and he grins when you wriggle. “Haven’t I been patient?” You’re hard pressed to disagree. His heavy lidded eyes go even darker as he laves his tongue across your nipple, and you whimper pathetically when he rolls it between his teeth.

“Yeah,” you pant as Joel taps his very patient fingers against the fleshy curve of your hip. You lift for him, and he hums with approval as he tugs them down your legs and flings them to the floor. “Practically a saint—ah, Joel!” Joel cups your pussy, clapping his hand against the fatty curve of it with a groan.

“If I were a saint, Sugar,” he drawls, pulling your panties tight until the puffy lips of your cunt pop out lewdly around them, “You know I’d never miss a day at this fuckin’ church.” He traces the shape of your swollen clit through the fabric with the rough pad of his thumb. “A-fuckin’-men.” The elastic band snaps against your skin as he pulls them off completely, your panties joining your jeans in an undignified heap at the bottom of the stairs.

Joel delivers a stinging little slap to your thigh that makes you yelp.

“Open.” You do, your cheeks burning as you spread your legs apart and let him see. He cards his fingers through his hair as a low “fuck” falls from his lips. He drags a thick, calloused finger up your slit, swirling the tip through your sopping folds. “Christ, Sugar,” he says, holding up his fingers so that you can see your own slick shining on them. You can’t look away as he lowers his head, his breath puffing across your heated skin. It’s only when he drags his tongue up your slit that your head falls back, and you curse at the ceiling.

“S’right,” he mumbles against your cunt, wrenching your legs further open. “Fuck, you taste good, baby.” Your fingers tangle in his hair, and you feel him chuckle against you before his tongue finds your clit and you loose a stream of curses and his name—

“Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck, Joel—”

“Say it, Sugar,” his beard rasps deliciously against your inner thighs. “Let ‘em hear my fuckin’ name.”

It’s impossible to think. You’re fairly certain the amount of electricity currently thrumming through you would be enough to light up a whole goddamn city. Your thighs tremble in his grip and you can’t stop the shameful push of your hips against his face. And then you’re cumming with a pitiful little whine, tears gathering in the corners of your wide eyes. Joel pulls away from you slowly, wiping at his glistening mouth with the back of his hand as he looks at you with dark, lidded eyes.

“Don’t cry yet, Sugar,” he rasps. You can’t help but stare as he looses the buttons on his jeans with nimble fingers. The heavy weight of his cock pushes insistently against the plaid fabric of his briefs before he hooks his thumb under the elastic and tugs it down too. “Oughta wait till the good part, at least.”

Oh my fucking God.

Joel Miller’s cock is thick. Like a fucking coke-can with veins. He palms it with one hand, and your traitorous cunt clenches wetly as you stare. The head is red, angry and leaking, and you find yourself with the sudden urge to swipe your tongue across it and see how he tastes. You can’t stop your eyes from following the movement as he strokes himself slowly, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest.

“Want a taste, Sugar?” He purrs, the accent dripping down every vowel. You don’t have enough working neurons left to lie, and so you nod meekly, licking your lips. “Say aah for me, baby.” You open your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue a little and he groans, balancing one hand on the bannister and the other against the wall as he leans forward. You nurse at his head, wrapping your lips around it as he thrusts slowly. You work your way down his thick, throbbing shaft, stopping when his head taps the back of your throat.

“—gotta be fucking kidding me,” you catch bits and pieces of his mumbled praise, his fingers tangling in your hair as he holds your head still, enjoying the sensation before pulling out. You wipe at the spit on your chin as Joel pumps his cock, squeezing as his head falls back.

“If I wasn’t so determined to make a mess of that pussy, Sugar, I’d let you finish.” Joel sinks down to his knees on the stairs, cupping your chin with sure fingers as he kisses you, and you taste yourself on his tongue. You’re sure that tomorrow, you will find the time to be appalled that you’re here, like this, with your neighbor—

But there is no space in your head for it now.

Now, Joel is settling himself between your thighs, the head of his cock sliding deliciously against you. And then fuck, he’s pushing inside, making your head fuzzy with that blissful, burning stretch.

“G-God,” you whimper, pressing your face against his throat, tugging at the skin there with your teeth as he seats himself all the way inside.

“Sorry, Sugar,” he mumbles the words into your hair, groaning as his heavy balls come to rest against you. “Best you got is me.” Joel draws out, taking all your air with him, before slamming back down, his hips meeting yours with a lewd squelch. You let out a choked gasp as he sinks his cock in to the base, his eyes rolling to half mast. His slow, steady pace is enough to make you see stars while your eyes are open, bright spots tattooing themselves against your retinas.

You don’t notice the hard bite of the wooden stairs into your back and the curve of your ass as you wrap your thighs around Joel’s hips. It feels so good, you’re drowning in it. In Joel. He knots a fist in the curls at the nape of your neck, tugging your head back. You let him, and are rewarded with his teeth and tongue scraping deliciously down the line of your throat.

“Where’ve you been hidin’ this pussy, Sugar?” The words are breathed hotly against the shell of your ear, followed by his teeth. “Why’d you hide her from me?” He punctuates his questions with a hard thrust that makes you bury your fingernails in the meat of his shoulder and sob. “Coulda been givin’ you your dick months ago.”

You’re not paying attention, not really, not when the white hot pleasure building at your core is all you can think about. You whine out an apology, not because you mean it, but because you think it’s what he wants to hear—and at this point, you’d tell him anything just to be able to crest the wave he’s been building inside of you. Fuck and you’re so full—

Every slow, heavy thrust punches the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping and whining as Joel takes you to pieces.

“H-holy shit,” the words stick to your lips and tongue as you struggle to get them out around the moans you keep trying unsuccessfully to swallow. It was never like this with Howard, this dizzying rush of pleasure that leaves you aching for more—begging for more, even if you’re not sure you can take it.

“P-please,” you keen, lifting your hips eagerly to meet his thrusts. “Please!”

“Please what, Sugar?” Joel asks teasingly, before dropping lis lips to yours. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it. “I’d tell you to use your big girl words but I know you can’t right now, can you Sweetheart?”

You cum with a sob, your back arching as you dig your heels into the backs of Joel’s thighs. They buckle, and he sinks down to his knees as you feel his cock throb inside you. Joel curses into your hair, both hands gripping the lip of the stair next to your head hard enough to drive the blood from his knuckles. You lay like that for a minute, panting on the stairs as you luxuriate in the sticky, warm afterglow.

Thank God for the pill.

All you can smell is the piney scent of his aftershave, tucked against his chest like you are. For a moment, you allow yourself to bask in Joel, your face pressed against his sweat-damp skin, the feel of his pulse thrumming beneath your cheek. You don’t know why, but it makes you think of mornings. Of waking up like this, tangled up in each other, of hot coffee and quick goodbyes over rushed breakfasts, of long nights—

“You okay?” Joel asks, leaning away from you. His cheeks are flushed, and he’s wearing a dopey smile underneath his scruffy beard. He cups your cheek, and you blink it all away, squashing those thoughts back down into your subconscious where they belong. He slips from between your thighs, and you pretend you don’t feel something like a suspicious cross between longing and disappointment.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You offer him a weak smile as you sit up, wincing. There’s an ache in your back from where you’d been pressed against the stairs, and as Joel tucks himself back into his pants, he grimaces, rubbing his knee. You let out a little embarrassed laugh. “Probably should have tried harder to make it to the bed, though.”

Joel fixes you with a sly smile. “There’s still time.” Your face heats and you sputter.

“I—”

“We can just sleep,” he says, chuckling. “Scout’s honor.”

It feels too natural to lead him upstairs, dodging stray hands as you fish a towel out for him from the hall closet. He starts stripping before you’re even out of the bathroom, and when he holds out a hand to you from the shower, you take it. Joel tugs you against his chest, tucking you beneath his chin underneath the spray.

“I thought you said we could sleep?” You say, peeking up at him through your lashes, a smile playing at the edges of your lips. Joel laughs, nosing along your jawline and pressing wet kisses to the corners of your mouth.

“Well we’re not in bed yet, are we Sugar?”

the end.

for now.