no other heart — best friend!kim seungmin x reader ; only one person can ever persuade seungmin to do anything (1.4k words)
happy bday seungmo! you are my favorite person
Seungmin feels Hyunjin before he even sees his face.
He comes in the form of a hand falling firmly on Seungmin’s shoulder, and the first thing the younger boy thinks is that your hands are supposed to be smaller.
The house that they’re in is loud, and really really crowded. It’s a setting that Seungmin doesn’t often take part in, preferring the quiet sounds of his airconditioning back at his room.
There is also a sharp contrast in how the boy favors his music. While he’s currently surrounded by the thrumming of music that beats in his ears, he would rather be at the dorm in the comfort of his lifeline (or, for better words, his collected playlist for the month).
From the corner of his eye, he sees his oldest friend, Chan, talking to a set of faces he’s never seen before. He wonders how the older boy does it. Seungmin has no plans of starting a conversation unlike Chan, not when he’s overstimulated by the flashing lights, and the confusing aromas wafting from the red cups that everyone seems to be holding, and the hand on his shoulder that most definitely is not yours.
“Seungmin, you came!” That’s also definitely not your voice.
“Hyunjinnie.” He breathes out, head muddled by his sudden urge to go home despite just having arrived around half an hour ago. He doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as his friend, but Hyunjin gives the boy a pass. Besides, it’s not everyday you see Kim Seungmin out past 10 in the evening, more less at a party.
Seungmin shifts a little from where he’s standing, just enough for Hyunjin’s hand to fall limp by his side. If you knew him less, you would think he was being rude. However, his indifference does a lot in calming his friend down.
He still has a distaste for parties. At least, this way, Hyunjin knows that no force has taken over Seungmin for his sudden appearance.
“Not to be mean, I’m just genuinely curious. How come you’re he—”
“Seungminnie!”
He shifts his attention to the sound.
There’s your voice, finally your voice, loud and clear to the boy, enough to be heard over the music and the voices and the heat.
There’s a sudden understanding that crosses Hyunjin’s features, and he says something on par with how Seungmin would only ever go to anything if it was you who asked.
“Ah, of course you’re here, (name). That must be why he’s here too.” Hyunjin giggles, sending a wink that looks more like a blink to the both of you before he disappears into the crowd.
Whatever he means.
Hyunjin has always had a knack for being cryptic anyway.
There is no proper greeting when Seungmin finds you, only a flick on your forehead.
“What’s wrong with you,” he says, but there is no grit in his voice. “You asked me to come here, and left me waiting for you for thirty minutes.”
“I was late.” You smile sheepishly, taking his hand in yours before dragging him along the pool of people to lead him outside.
He should be used to it now, the ease in which you link your hands together, as if there’s no need for a warning anymore when you’ve known each other for this long. Still, Seungmin finds it unfair. He needs it, needs the warning before you take his heart hand like this.
“You shouldn’t be asleep on a Friday night like a senior citizen.”
This senior citizen came out all the way here for you, he thinks.
“‘M going home now,” is what he chooses to say.
“No!” You suddenly stop in your tracks, just when you’re about to reach the grassy fields of the backdoor of whoever the hell owned this house.
It makes Seungmin stumble over, feet in a hurry to plant themselves on the ground so he doesn’t crash into you. When you turn to face him with a scolding look on your face, the only thing he can think about is how awfully close you are.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to proximities like these with you. “I’m already here, don’t you want to be with me?”
Seungmin sighs because he does, really does, but not in the way you’re asking right now.
“Plus, there’s supposed to be a comet tonight. I think we’ll be able to see it from here.” Your hand latches back on his, pulling him outside where the cold breeze of the night air greets you.
“There’s been a comet every night since last Wednesday.”
“But the city doesn’t quite get a view of it like this.”
By his fate, because he can never say no to you, he watches the comet falling just as you mention it.
Seungmin supposes you’re right. It is a little nicer out here compared to the light pollution of the city, and there’s a good enough distance between where you are and the painfully loud music of the house, and he doesn’t have to deal with anyone but the one person he cares about.
He chooses not to think about the eventual teasing that’s bound to come his way.
He knows Hyunjin’s spreading word around, that Kim Seungmin is actually here, and his friends already know why.
Because you’re here. What other reason does he need?
And Seungmin supposes he can sacrifice a few hours of sleep. Despite begrudgingly coming here, he doesn’t think he’d be able to trade the way you look right now—with your eyes soft and enchanted, and your features highlighted by the soft glow of the moon, and the small, but fond smile playing at your lips.
“It’s so beautiful.”
“It is.” He’s not looking where you are, and you’re too painfully distracted by the falling comet and the thousand stars blanketing the night sky to notice that he’s only ever looked at you tonight.
“Seungmin?”
His breath hitches when you suddenly turn to him, and there is no other coping mechanism he can think of but clearing his throat and looking anywhere but your eyes.
You take the moment where he’s too distracted to wrap your arms around him.
Seungmin freezes at the contact, the nudge in his heart so visible on his face. It’s a shame you have your head buried on his chest to notice the way he suddenly relaxes, hand gingerly resting on the small of your back for a second before wrapping himself entirely around you.
“Why’re you hugging me all of a sudden?” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he remains hesitant. Instead, he pulls you just a little closer.
“Thanks for coming. I know you hate going out to stuff like this, and I really do feel bad for practically forcing you. But, at the same time, I’m just really happy you came too.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”
Fuck, the way he says it is so awkward, and he cringes at himself for feeling this nervous around you. He tries to steady his pulse, tries to stop the rapid way in which his heart beats because he knows you can hear it.
“I stole your sleeping hours, of course I feel bad. Plus you hate parties, and yet you came here anyway.” You loosen your grip to look up at him.
You’re ill-prepared to see the tenderness in which his eyes are looking at you right now. He does that sometimes. You’ve never quite figured out why.
“Because you asked me to.” He tells you, really tries to tell you without saying too much. “I’d do anything if it was you who asked me, stupid girl.”
It feels like more of a realization to himself, and he doesn’t really want you to think about what he means. At least not tonight, not in the same night he’s come to find out just the lengths he would go through for you. His lips are parted like he wants to say more, but he decides against it. Still, his very few words will leave you blushing for the next few days after tonight and strike up a few realizations of your own.
Seungmin has known, and he’s known what he was signing up for—when he’d come here, when he’d pick you up, when he’d answer your calls at two in the morning.
He likes you a lot, and no other heart will ever make him act this way.
Not like you do.
So, for now, he’ll keep doing anything if you ask him. He’ll keep showing up until he’s ready to commit to the How To Confess scripture. He’s a simple boy, after all.
A simple boy with a simple heart that beats only for you.
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Okay so the quick version of this is: saw Two Of Us today, adored it even more than I adore the film, the choice to keep them in John's building worked really well to further highlight the mental health message the director talks about in his little note in the programme, the rooftop scene is somehow even more intimate and lovely in this version and the ending is even more painful! I'm gonna write down more under the cut about it all:
Playlist: The playlist before the show/during the interval is everything you would want it to be and it includes Monkberry Moon Delight which I feel like I never hear in public!
The overall experience was also just super wholesome, one thing I always love about Beatles events is the range of people there it just makes you feel like your part of such a special thing, so shout out to all the old women talking about Paul near me, the middle aged men in their Beatles shirts, and the girl behind me who was sooo excited to be there and I hope she got to meet the cast after like she wanted to! ALSO the Beatles drinks are so funny, idk why Ringo’s is just earl grey tea 😭
Performances: OKAY let’s get into it. So one of my only real complaints about the film is that although I think overall Jared Harris and Aiden Quinn do an amazing job but I do find the quality a little inconsistent (especially the accents) but Richard Short and Barry Sloane are soooo so good, the accents, the little verbal quirks (which also, kudos to the writer as well) and the physicalities are jarringly good at points, especially Barry Sloane’s John. I also feel like a lot of Get Back was watched in preparation because there were so many little things, like the way John plays with his hair that just took me right back to that. Sometimes with fictional Beatles things I’m constantly thinking about how you’re watching two people try to portray these real people, but I definitely found that they were convincing enough that I wasn’t thinking about it too much.
Outfits: I did find it kinda weird they went for the Get Back looks rather than how they looked in 76, I feel robbed of the New York City vest tbh but they did look great
Changes from the film: basically they cut out them going for the walk to the park and to Luigi’s and instead John sets up the table for them like they’re in a restaurant in his kitchen. I think it works really well because they play into John not wanting to leave the building, which just adds into that whole mental health thing, and I think it actually makes the rooftop scene more poignant when they get there, because it feels more like Paul has broken through a bit and coaxed him outside, even if it’s baby steps. Anyway, they still have all the same conversations really the script is just chopped up a bit.
One interesting thing is that the conversation that happens with the fan in Luigi’s still happens, but John sort of pesters Paul about whether he really thinks silly love songs should be number one, and it’s a nice extra layer to Paul’s insecurity which I enjoyed
Mental health conversations: I think going into it knowing that the director wanted to make this because of the mental health themes, specifically men’s mental health and how having someone to reach out to is so important, is really interesting. They definitely amped up John’s anxiety from the film, his fidgeting and little moments to himself where he’s trying to get himself together were just so palpable, and Paul talking about his depression after the Beatles broke up was even more raw and upsetting seeing it in front of you. My absolute favourite line in the film is ‘I’m thirty-five years old and I still feel like I’ve done something wrong’ and god, my heart just broke seeing it on stage, I think that’s such a common feeling, just that sense that you’re in trouble for something but you’re not really sure what? Anyway, I just loved Sloane’s delivery of it.
The Kiss: Okay, look I actually don’t care that much about the kiss in the film, I’m glad it’s in there as a little nod to John’s queerness but it really isn’t anything imo, but I liked it a lot more in this! For one thing rather than coming after a little play fight (which is still cute, don’t get me wrong) they do one of their silly dances where they’re spinning each other round etc, so the scene already feels more tender, and then John just kinda grabs him and it goes on a little longer than in the film. I still think it’s far from one of the most intimate moments in the show, but I do think they made it into something more here.
Rooftop scene: It’s just. It’s everything. They sit right at the front of the stage, facing each other, cross legged and Paul gives him the whole ‘I see a beautiful baby boy speech’ and it’s PERFECT, this was the moment I was most worried about them screwing up and it was perfectly delivered and they have this lovely big hug after it and it made my heart ache in the best way. And idk, if seeing some guy dressed up as Paul McCartney saying that we should focus on fun and get out our own heads and how we don’t have to stay stuck as the kids who were just scared and trying to survive, doesn’t do something for you, then we’re just very different people.
SNL scene: okay it’s pretty much the same but the way John is sleeping on Paul was everything, it wasn’t just a head on the shoulder he was fully laying back against Paul!!
The ending: this is just so brutal because Paul doesn’t leave the flat to get his guitar, he borrows one of John’s and so when Yoko calls and John starts doing the whole ‘I wish you were here, you’re the only one who stops me disappearing’ it’s literally…. In Paul’s face. And it hurts. Then at the very end they cut between John on the phone to Yoko and Paul on the phone to Linda, and so Paul says ‘I love you’ to Linda, then John says ‘I love you too’ to Yoko but it sounds like they said it to each other, and then Here Today plays. The fact most people didn’t appear to be crying baffled me quite frankly.
Yoko: They decided to have Yoko be the one who actually invited Paul, which felt like an odd choice and didn’t really add anything for me, but there we go
Okay I’m gonna shut up there because this is way too long and I doubt anyone’s read it but ahhhhhhhhh it was so good and you’re just all lucky I can’t text you because my friends have had much more incoherent versions of all this
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Trouble in Paradise (Part One)
Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.
Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada
A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3
*******
You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down.
After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”.
You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky.
“Sweetheart?”
Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.
You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back.
“Be down in a minute!”
Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way.
You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—
You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise.
You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to.
It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times.
His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door.
He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm.
“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.”
Smooth, you think.
“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret.
He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember.
You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?”
Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.”
Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues.
You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.
Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier.
When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?
Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that.
You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking.
You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—
You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth.
“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?”
Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel.
“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight.
“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—”
“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—”
“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.”
In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad.
“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”
You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.”
He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.”
You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs.
“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.”
*****
Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?
You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what?
God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation.
It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel?
Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with.
You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door.
“Come in,” you call, unmoving.
“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.”
You sit up at this. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.”
Oh thank God.
“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.”
You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input.
Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction.
“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.”
He gives you a hug and closes your door.
You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case.
*****
As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03.
The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake.
Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now.
“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.”
You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand.
You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front.
It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry.
“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down.
“I’m hungry.”
Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?”
You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation.
Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX.
He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him.
“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.”
He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing.
Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first.
“By the window, darlin’,” he says.
You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later.
“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains.
Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful?
“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward.
The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you.
You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.
For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination.
But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers
through your earbuds.
You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes.
He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.
“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.”
You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him.
“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.”
He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too.
The speaker dings again:
“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.”
Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was.
******
You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane.
You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming.
There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise.
You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into.
You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up.
“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.”
You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.”
He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting.
“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”
Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area.
“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.”
You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.
You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan.
“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles.
You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace.
“What all are we going to be doing?”
Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?”
“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?”
“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.”
You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues.
“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.”
Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel.
“Sounds easy enough,” you say.
Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”
“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.”
You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours.
Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep.
******
Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.
Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)
Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!
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