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penvisions · 9 months

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return the favor {chapter 16}

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: It takes some adjustment for your little trio to get back onto the road. Supplies are the priority in wake of losing everything that had been gathered in Lincoln with the weather progressing into colder temperatures. Some rules are established.

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: racism, racial slurs, targeted words, description of injuries, mentions of past suicide attempt (fleeting), canon typical death, canon typical violence, canon typical gore, clickers, infected, small horde of them doin' the damn thing, brief illusion to child loss, mentions of loss of a loved one, arson, destruction of property, language, ellie isn't the one cussing every other word in this chapter, kissing, sexual content, teasing

A/N: this chapter contains sensitive content, i've taken real life interactions and put them here to help myself overcome them though they happened long ago and to help establish the character of reader a little bit more personality wise. i've also gotten zero notes or interaction on the last chapter so i'm thinking of taking a bit of a break with this fic, it's not what's in right now and its certainly not smutty enough to garner attention, so idk might continue to write it for myself and maybe post it when it's complete as a whole.

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

The sunlight was warm on your skin, but you could tell that it was waning as the days continued to get shorter and shorter. Autumn was beginning to come to an end, you would need to get Joel and Ellie more layers. You were the only one with a fully loaded pack at this point and while you had enough of the emergency supplies all three of you might need warmer clothing as the weather got colder and inclement would be important.

You were seated outside of the motel or apartment complex, you were still unclear on the origins of the building you had all sought shelter in late last night. Just wanting to find a place to hunker down in after a hectic turn of events. A smushed cigarette was between your fingers, the nicotine helping to calm you after the rather…jarring events of earlier this morning.

You were gazing out into the horizon, eyes blurred as you realized the direction of where home once was. It was only a state away, the other only two. It was the closest you’d been since fleeing both of them and you felt the pull of a cabin deep in the woods that you had burnt down to prevent anyone else from being in the space, of it being taken advantage of. It would always be his place, your place. You hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of someone else stumbling upon it and being in your living room, in your kitchen, in his shop, his stables, in the garden you both cultivated, in the bedroom you both had shared. In the room that had a handmade crib and handmade blankets…

The sound of a shovel scraping was loud, breaking the chain of thoughts that were pulling you down into a place you would rather not be. Your eyes snapped back to focus and you looked out over across the wide street. There was an open field where Joel was standing, he was still now though, the shovel pushed into the give of the dirt he had just placed and leveled over two fresh graves. He was leaning on it, head bowed down as he stared at the freshly dug up earth that had been packed down carefully over two bodies of your companions.

Your finger burned where the forgotten, crude cigarette was resting. The tobacco and paper burned down low, and the ash had smarted against your skin. You quickly took the last drag of it and snubbed it out on the ground beside you.

His hair ruffled in the breeze that swept through the air. It was cold, bringing goosebumps up across your exposed skin. You pushed yourself up from the ground, dirt gritting underneath your boots as you carefully did so. Your left arm was held against your chest, a makeshift splint holding your arm straight aside from the curve of your elbow as it was held stationary by the sling you had placed it in. You felt lousy, a combination of the antibiotics you were adamant about keeping up with to stave off infection, hardly any sleep the previous night, the injury that was throbbing underneath fresh stitches, and the jarring events of the morning. Your arm was stinging around the stitches and on the underside where a deep scar ran. Though you were sure only one of the pains were real, the other a manifestation of your swirling emotions.

You crossed the distance, glancing back at the relative safety of the second room you and Joel had cleared for Ellie to lay down in. She had shaken and sobbed until Joel had carried her from the tainted space of the first room and laid her down atop a dusty bed with no words. One of his large hands had lingered along her arm, offering her comfort the only way he could muster up. But the bond between them that had been slowly developing had bloomed and you were sure he would look after from here on vehemently with purpose instead of obligation. You had sat with her for a moment, but she had quietly asked you to leave and you had respected her enough to do so.

“Joel.” You called out as you came up to him, good hand coming up to brush the slightly sweaty curls from his forehead. He didn’t shy away from your touch, something that made your stomach flutter. That he was allowing you to casually touch him was not lost on you. The bond you two were forming was a dangerous and heady one, it would need to be reigned in lest either of you lose yourselves in it and forfeit focus on the long road ahead. You sighed, shoulders pulling with the deep breath.

Your fingers traced a discolored scar, the same one Ellie had innocently asked after what seemed like so long ago. The reality was that it was only a fortnight ago, and you were all still so new to each other and the journey was just beginning on the outskirts of Boston. Previous lives, feelings, and memories all a mystery that sometimes begged to discovered. All a mystery that begged to be forgotten. But this one thing, you needed to know if you shared it with him. If your hearts were painted with the same shades.

He inclined his head to look down into your eyes and you hoped this wouldn’t scare him off.

“We’ve both been there...”

He sucked in a deep breath, his chest heaving with the action, though he didn’t break the connection of your gaze by looking away. His eyes filled with a swirl of complex emotions you knew were mirrored in your own. He removed one hand from the shovel and brought it up to brush the underside of your slung up arm, gentle. He knew the scar in the skin there as well as you knew the one along his temple. Self-inflicted.

“Yes, we have. But we’re here, right now.”

His hand moved to wrap around your ribs and tugged you into a loose embrace. You tipped your chin up in a silent request and he dipped down to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

The storefront looked decrepit, but at least none of the windows were broken. The sign had long fallen and was rusted on the walk that led up to the barricaded doors.

“If there’s any place to hunker down, an outdoors supply one is a pretty good move.” Joel mumbled behind you, watching as you took the machete from the strap on your pack. You swung the blade effortlessly, the sling seemingly not an issue as you did so, the motions fluid.

“Yeah, but a lot of people must’ve had the same thought. I’m surprised the windows are still up, that would mean whoever hunkered down in there…might still be there in one state or another.” It was a miracle that the building was a standalone. It was a larger one, one of the outer sides of it covered in what were once beautiful glass panels that were now coated in dust and grime. Through them you could spy the set up of wall climbing mounts and equipment.

“Good thing, you’re letting me clear it before we all go in there.”

“Nah, good thing we’re clearing it.”

You ignored the deadpan stare aimed in your direction.

Ellie was silent and waiting in a car relatively close by, her gun in her hand and left with instructions to stay where she was and shoot only if someone tried to come at her or grab her. You followed Joel’s lead to the side entrance to the building. A long-ago emergency exit that would allow for easier access into the building than the double doors of the entrance or back entrance.

The inside was a mess, low shelves all over the place, a few taller ones that must’ve held larger camping equipment at one point. There were piles of clothing left, though only the better-quality pieces were still salvageable. Moths and bugs having eaten away at the fabric make up of most of them that hadn’t been picked over and taken. You had your machete held up in front of you, ready to take out any threat that may be lurking in the large space. Joel was leading the way, his back broad and strong in front of you.

Eyes flitting around and then back to him every few seconds. It was going to take some adjustment to get used to using only one arm, for however long it took the bone in your other one to set and then heal. If you had to give a healthy guess, you estimated about two months. Traveling this way, things were bound to happen and the inability to fully rest it would affect the process. You were positive some conflict would further the process should you come into contact with anyone else or any Infected.

With the store room and the back room cleared, you made your way over to the bathrooms. It was a long shot that they contained one of those machines that dispensed tampons and pads for a few coins, an even longer shot that it was still stocked with anything. But you were in desperate need of something, if the cramps low in your abdomen and lower back were any indication.

You carefully opened the door to the bathroom, the door creaking slightly with the effort it took to unstick the hinges. Rust had collected on them and you were surprised they were mostly intact. The door however decided that little bit of movement after being stationary for so long was the last of its life and it crashed to the floor with a loud bang. The metal of the door sending a chill through your entire body and a weird taste to fill your mouth at the sound of the hinges groaning before shattering.

You turned to look over in Joel’s direction, the man across the entire store. The curls atop his head were barely visible as he crouched in wake of the sudden disturbance of silence. You raised your hand up, letting him know you were alright and he stood up from his crouch. You didn’t verbally say anything, either of you. Urging your body to stay completely still with baited breath as you waited to see if it prompted anything or anyone to come out from the back room or the bathroom you had exposed.

It remained silent, the echo of the door fading.

A thumbs up from both of you was shared and you began to make your way into room. You stopped in your tracks, a tall figure covered in sprouting cordyceps was just inside the bend into the space where the stalls were. Its back was to you, head aimed down as it breathed heavily, as if just having gotten jolted back into awareness. You took a few careful steps back, barely making it around the corner when it whirled around, quiet clicking beginning to fill your ears. It a panicked move, you turned a little too quickly and your boot scuffed the floor. The figure flung itself around the corner and you broke into a scramble.

The clicker gave chase way too quickly, your thighs burned with the effort to keep ahead of it. You were tearing around a tall aisle of shelves when you found Joel. He was across the large front room, gun still in his hand even as he knew it was clear. He was rummaging through something behind the front counter where the checkout used to be. His right side was the one exposed to the rest of the space. But as your fast footsteps echoed around the high ceilings, his head popped up and he watched with a grim expression as you tore through the space and toward him. When the clicker appeared behind you in a rage, his eyebrows rose into his hairline before he schooled his expression into one of focus and concentration. He was making his way along the enclosed space of the counter, trying to get to you.

Neither of you called out to the other, knowing it would be a rookie mistake. Foolish. Even as each other’s names were on the tip of your tongues.

Your hip caught on something that was jutting out from the shelf as you rounded it at too fast a pace and it clattered loudly to the floor, garnering the man’s heart to quicken painfully in his ribcage. You were trying to be as silent as possible, but a small, pained grunt had fallen from your lips at the contact. Pain was a deep feeling, reverberating down the entirety of your leg. It caused your steps to falter and you swore you saw Joel’s shoulders tense even more so, the gun held up but unable to get a good aim. The clatter of what looked like a canoe paddle was loud, propelling the clicker into faster motions.

You were silent as you approached him and he all but pulled you down behind the front counter alongside him. Your good hand reached out for him, gripping the sleeve of his jacket tight as he held a hand to the back of your head. You were pressed into him, face turned to track the movement of the grotesque thing as it slowed and began to make those terrifying noises trying to locate you.

Suddenly a figure popped up from a lower shelf and had a gun aimed at the clicker as it stalked through the store. You watched, nerves jumping in your legs from the sprint you had taken through the store, as the man’s gun jammed. The clicker quickly turned from where it was nearing your and Joel’s hiding spot and rushed toward the new target it zoned in on. The man cursed, tucking the gun back into a holster strapped to his left thigh. He reached behind his back to retrieve a long knife, holding it steady in front of him as the clicker hurled itself over the small shelf and at him. They both collided on the ground with a loud clatter, errant items falling from the shelf in the scuffle.

He was up and running almost as quickly as he had been taken down, the clicker struggling to break free of the blade holding one of its ankles to the ground where it had been staked clean through. Joel pulled you tighter into his front as the man moved as swiftly as he could through the maze of low shelves still around the open space of the store and banged out the door into back into the daylight.

With sounds of outrage, the shrieking that chilled you to your bones and made a sweat break out all along your skin, the clicker managed to tear itself free of the blade. The ripping sound of its flesh was sickening as it filled the once again quiet air inside the building. Your fingers gripped tight around the fabric of Joel’s sleeve, eyes taking in the figure of the infected as its head turned in a disturbing display as it gathered its bearings. The clicks and snarls bouncing off the walls and sending a wave of fight or flight preservation to course strongly though you. You tried to stay as still as possible, cradled in Joel’s arms as he did the very same.

There was a loud groaning metallic sound outside followed by a loud curse from the man who had fled and the clicker was barreling through the door that had been left partially open in the hasty escape with an ear splitting screech.

You and Joel were careful not to make any more noise as you both rose from your hiding spot. Fear and worry for Ellie careening into you both as you realized she would be exposed by any little sound. When the combination of a shout and tortured snarl spiked through the door, you were both running out of the building.

You were just in time to see the body of the clicker fall to the ground in a heap, a blade sticking out of the side of its head. The man who had found himself to be prey was crouched down alongside a building across the street. His back slid down the length of the wall until he collapsed on the ground, legs sprawled out in front of him. Your eyes took in the jutting bumper of an abandoned car decorated with fresh blood. He must’ve collided with it in his haste.

Ellie came around the corner of the building, up from the front where you had both told her to hide away. A frantic look about her as her gun shook in her hands and her hair swayed in its ponytail. Her eyes landed on you both, raking over you to make sure you were unharmed before she broke into a jog to close the distance.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Don’t know, he was hiding in the building.”

Joel was approaching the man, boots making heavy thuds on the ground as he did so. The man’s head flew up from where he had been inspecting a cut in his jeans high on his leg. His hands flew up in the universal sign of surrender and blood was coated along his palms. You found yourself walking around Joel, holding your good hand up in a half greeting aimed at the guy. A disapproving grunt sounded from the man beside you and you spared a glance over your shoulder.

“No, no, it’s okay. He’s unarmed and he’s injured. I’m just going to offer some help, okay? At least let me offer, I feel like I have to.”

Joel didn’t seem like he was going to agree, but he nodded his head once in acquiescence. Hands holding his gun steady and trained on the downed man leaning on the side of the building. The tinted sunlight from the cloud coverage showing the damage done to the man’s leg. There was a dark, growing stain of blood along his upper thigh. His clothes may have been dirty, but they couldn’t hide the telltale signs of a serious injury. Your entire body was tense as you approached him, crossing the street and around the few cars that had long since been abandoned.

“I’m a trained EMT, I can help you. You need stitches for that cut, it’s deep. You’ll bleed out if you don’t close that up somehow.”

“Don’t touch me, spic.”

You stopped in your approach, the sudden rage and hissed insult of his words stinging deep. A gasp had bubbled up from your chest, taken completely off guard at the treatment. At the sheer audacity. When he repeated his words, you visibly flinched.

“What did you fuckin’ call her?” Joel was suddenly in front of you, his boots harsh on the flaking gravel and dirt of the dilapidated sidewalk. His finger was on the trigger as he stomped forward, shielding you from the man in case he had any other weapons.

“She’s a spic. I ain’t lettin’ her touch me.”

“Okay, wow, uh-fuck you.” You spoke loudly, anger quickly came over you and forked your tongue. “I know I took an oath, but yeah, no, you aren’t gettin’ any help from me. You’ll be dead within the hour and it’s all thanks to your ‘good ole boys’ shtick.”

“Talkin’ to me like you’re better ‘n me.”

“That’s because I am, you racist old fuck.”

“You’re nothin’ but a stain. How dare you talk to me like that.”

“Die mad about it.” You turned your back on the injured man and grasped one of Ellie’s hands with your good one to lead her away from the pathetic excuse of a man. It didn’t matter that he had tried to take out the clicker and was successful. It didn’t matter that he had been a distraction for it, allowing you and Joel to remain hidden and unharmed. It didn’t matter that the man had obviously torn into his leg so deep in his getaway that he had nicked the artery in his leg. It didn’t matter that he was bleeding out.

You had had little patience for racism ever since you knew what it was. You had been ignorant of its existence until you were six or seven, when you found yourself a target of it.

The kids in your class told you that you were dirty and needed a bath when faced with the natural faint tan of your skin in comparison to their fair complexion. Your mother had been furious, your grandmother had been furious. They had shouted at the parents of the kids until you were told you could no longer attend the school, expelled for fighting when you hadn’t done a damn thing. The news had spread around your small, Southern town and soon you hadn’t been able to enter any of the stores. Keepers worried you’d steal items from the shelf when they weren’t paying attention.

That’s when your mother had decided to sign custody over to your father, allowing you to grow up in California in a community that was made up of more open-minded people. She had taken a few years to help your grandmother sell their home in the backwater town and they both moved closer to you, closer to the West coast.

As a trained EMT, all throughout your coursework and credential certifications, you were told that the administration of medical aid was the top priority. It didn’t matter what the person did, who the person was, how the person talked, if they needed help you were to give it to them. But that was always easier said than done. You weren’t immune to the slurs aimed at you and you certainly weren’t now. But now, as rare as it was to have medical knowledge and medical supplies, you could pick and choose who to help.

And that man would not be someone you were going to help.

You were just nearing the door again when you heard a muffled shout and the squelching of a blade imbedding itself into flesh. After a few beats of your quickened heart, the heavy footfalls of Joel’s boots could be heard crossing the street to catch up with you both.

“What did that man mean when he said ‘your kind’?” Ellie innocently asked, confused as to why the encounter was so hostile for seemingly no reason. “What was he calling you, a-a whatever it was. It was bad?”

“Because a long time ago, some people put a lot of worth on where someone was from. Different countries and where within those countries. Prejudice was a widespread disease in the minds of those types of people, they looked down on others if they had different skin tones and spoke different languages.” You sighed as you tried to shove the interaction down, focusing on the goal of getting Ellie supplies. “And what he called me was a slur. That specific one is aimed at people from a country that was south of where we are. Where my family is from. A play on broken English as an insult. Don’t ever repeat that word, Ellie. I don’t care if you don’t know anything about it, don’t fucking repeat that word. You hear me?”

You pinned her with a serious look, no room for anything but agreement. She nodded, eyes wide and her brows were hidden up in her messy hairline. She took in how tense you were, your shoulders bunched up as you stalked across the storefront in search of something. She was standing by the door still, waiting for Joel to walk through it. She seemed unable to relax even marginally if you both weren’t in her sights.

Rummaging had taken hours, you wanted to scour through everything so as to not miss anything you may need. Ellie had done well, finding a locker that had been stuffed with two basic first aid kits, a lot of jerky and power bars, a pack of matched, and some camping blankets similar to the ones you used to use. You laid them out on the floor to make it easier to sleep once Joel had announced he wanted to sleep there in the safety of the cleared building. One for Ellie to put your sleeping bag over so she could try and get some decent sleep.

You had a new underlayer, something that was slightly thermal, the one you had been carrying around needing to be replaced with how thin it had become, it was no better than a regular cotton shirt at keeping you warm at this point. Ellie had a hoodie she could use to layer as the weather progressed. Joel had a new flannel to swap out should he need to, the pack Henry had containing clothing that the older man couldn’t fit into. You kept some of it for Ellie as well as yourself.

You were spacing out atop your own blanket, the one that was already in your pack. Your back was up against the wall and the lantern wasn’t turned on, but it was beside you. You would need to set it hang from someone’s pack tomorrow in order to solar charge. It was one of those compression blankets you could fold down and squeeze into a smart pack, but you typically kept it inside your sleeping bag and rolled them up together to snap onto the bottom of your pack. The memory of Ellie placing down the pack that had once been Henry’s at Joel’s feet as she approached the burial site earlier that morning. The writing pad that had been Sam’s in her hands and she laid it atop his final resting place. ‘I’m sorry’ carefully written out had hurt, it still hurt. It would for a while.

Ellie had decided to sleep by the lockers, while you and Joel were closer to the door. The back door was already barricaded, probably had been since Outbreak day. It looked like a pretty good set up so no one had any arguments when it came to leaving it as such.

Joel was closest to the door, you in a small walkway space that led to the line of lockers that made up an open cubicle. You had eyes on them both. Joel was laying down though you knew he wasn’t sleeping, he was shifting too much atop his own blanket. The fabric hushing every so often as he shimmied and tensed. You wanted to go over to him and lay beside him, but you refrained. Today had been long, everyone needed space. Needed to be alone but in the same space.

You were trying to keep your sniffles silent, the tears rolling down your cheeks despite your efforts to stop them. The man from earlier had really gotten to you, his words digging in deep and attaching themselves to your psyche. It was stupid, it truly was. The world had ended and to be human was hard enough, it was deadly, but that man’s words had made you feel anything but. You hadn’t felt like this in decades, diminished down to the tone of your skin and the basis of your family origins in such a negative way.

Eyes clenched shut, you brought your good hand up to wipe your face. When you opened them back up you felt eyes on you. Joel was watching you from where he was turned on his side. You couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face, but his eyes were trained on you.

You just shook your head slightly, letting him know you were okay, mostly. That you had it under control as best you could. You shuffled down to lay with your back to him, facing the wall you had been sitting up against. You felt his gaze trained on you until a restless sleep overtook you.

“So like, it was flour and stuff that allowed cordyceps to spread. Or so you told me, as far as you both know. What did you guys eat since obviously it didn’t get you like that?”

“Oh, um, I ate a lot of rice. Different grain, different processing. Was big on pastries and stuff but like, we made all our own stuff where I worked. If I had bread, or anything with flour, it was made literally in front of me.”

“And what about you?”

“…Atkins.” Was all the man said, his steps suddenly taking him a further ahead.

“Ah, yes, of course. I know exactly what that means.” Ellie snorted, voice mock serious as she rolled her eyes. She mimicked the timbre and accent of his voice as she repeated the word, puffing out her chest and bringing her shoulders up.

He didn’t turn around to pin her with an exasperated look, he kept his focus on leading the way along a road that sort of ran parallel to a major highway but was protected by the coverage of the trees a few miles north of it. Only one map was found, something you had desperately needed to replace after the ones in Joel’s possession had been left in the truck. He had it in his hands as he kept an eye on your path.

Ellie sidled up a little closer to your heels. Her pack was laden down with everything she may need, for her one person. While you and Joel carried the bulk of whatever else was deemed important for all of you. She had been adamant she could share the weight but you had told her she was young and didn’t need to worry about either of you when it came to stuff like that. You both had so many years on her, in general, and in experience with what the world came to be.

“As far as I know, cause I didn’t really bother with specific diets or anything back when. Atkins was a low calorie, low carb diet. So no bread, or anything actually good, I’m guessing.” You chuckled as you pictured Joel sitting at a dinner table with a smoothie and a salad. Somehow it didn’t feel right. Surely he was a protein guy, had to be. He looked sturdy even now in his older age. Cords of muscle obvious in his arms and thighs, his core was still strong underneath the softness of age and time. He had to have done something physical in the time of Before. Something that would be demanding of his body, leaving him starving at the end of every day.

“Was bread good?”

“Oh yeah, it was amazing. I loved bread, I really miss it. And bacon. And eggs. God, what I would do for a breakfast sandwich right now.”

“You’re so weird.” Ellie laughed as she watched the way your expression morphed into a pout.

“You’re weird, you little gremlin.” You shot back, nudging her hip with your own as she came up beside you.

It was all harmless jousting, she was trying to keep up small conversations but she was nowhere near as talkative and outwardly inquisitive as she had been days before. The events of Kansas City sobering her somewhat. But she wasn’t closed off completely, and that was what mattered. That she was still mostly herself, even if a bit subdued. It would take time to get used to the weight of what had happened, of what she now carried within herself.

Joel had decided to travel a few hours northwest. He was trying to find a good distance away from the city limits that still intersected the river you had caught glimpses of on the map. A wash sounded good, to all of you. It had been a bit of a challenge to get Ellie to leave the building. She had wandered over to the bright side of the store where the rock climbing set up was.

She had gazed up at the top of the wall and her eyes tracked each tack and step, as if mentally making the path up there. You knew she wanted to try it for real, but the ropes had been left too long without chalk and oil, the tacks and steps left too long without being checked or maintained, the harnesses were fraying and wouldn’t do much good to help support her. You wanted her to have experiences that were good, that were normal. But this one would have to be something passed up.

She had torn a poster depicting someone mid climb, saddled with gear and a helmet, a wide smile on their face. You stashed some sticks of chalk in each of your packs with the notion that it was ‘for communication emergencies’. Any human form of communication was tainted these days, a salvation as much as a damnation. It all depended on who saw it, on who interpreted it, on who followed it. But you all agreed that a simple dash (-) would signal being close to a hidden spot lest you get separated. You also suggested that if anyone where to get separated within a city or town, that the rendezvous place would be a bookstore. You figured most people wouldn’t bother with searching for such a place and it would be relatively safe.

The stream was cool. The water wasn’t crystal clear, but it was enough so that you felt comfortable bathing completely in it. You needed it. The water flowed downstream around you at a light pace as you floated there. The sky above you was dull, a layer of cloud cover hiding the sun. Your skin prickled, the combination of the water and warm, moody sky chilling you slightly. Your good arm was up above the water, laid atop your middle. It wouldn’t hurt to clean it and the water looked pretty clean itself, but you were hesitant to submerge it completely.

Ellie was off a bit upstream, on the other side of a rock that cropped up to peak above the water’s surface. Joel was on watch, just on the outskirts of the trees that surrounded the area. He kept glancing at you as you took your time to just feel the water on your skin. He was seated on a boulder, gun in his hand though he wasn’t on full alert. He seemed rather tired, sleep had seemed to evade him as it had done with you last night.

“Joel?” You called, shifting to stand in the stream. The water was up to your ribs, but you allowed your body to stay submerged. “Can you help me to dry off?”

“No.” The word was in complete opposition of his actions as he stood with a slight groan at the creaking of his body and made his way over to the edge of the water.

“No?” You stood up completely, allowing for your upper half to be seen. The water glistened on your clean skin. Rivulets of it ran down from the tips of your loose hair and down your body. The man in front of you watched as they caressed your skin in the exact way he wanted to, down your chest and dipping below the surface of the water.

“Can’t.” He reiterated.

“Can’t?”

“She’s right over there,” He averted his eyes as he felt himself begin to harden in his jeans. “She don’t need to hear or see what it would turn into if I were to put my hands on you.”

“Oh.”

Arousal flared in your middle, and you felt yourself get slick at the implications of him wanting to touch you in a not so innocent way. The coldness of the water was jarring on your suddenly heated skin.

“But-“

“Can’t.” He said as he moved a hand to push his palm against his front. The action only seemed to rile him up more, the friction of his hand fueling the swell of himself instead of heeding it. The words seemed to be a struggle for him, they came out on a harsh exhale. “Darlin’, I really can’t.”

You didn’t say anything as you brought your good hand up out of the water and traced it over the fullness of one of your breasts, teasing the skin in a featherlight touch. His eyes trained the movement as you shifted your fingers to brush over the nipple. Your lip between your teeth as you watched the beautiful brown of his eyes disappear as it was overtaken by the darkness of his pupils. His bottom lip was plush and begging to be nipped at as his mouth parted in awe of watching you boldly touch yourself out in the open. As you touched yourself for him.

Your hand pinched and rolled the already perked nipple before moving to the other and doing the same.

The veins on the back of his hand flexed as he pressed his palm down harder against himself.

You notched your head up to meet his eyes as you snaked your hand down below the surface of the water. Fingers grazed your folds, slipping into them and gently stroking. Fingertips brushed that wonderful little bundle of nerves, and a low whine left your mouth before you could think better of it.

That proved to be too much for the man as he was suddenly turning around and disappeared beyond the tree line. You huffed a shaky laugh as you ducked back down into the water. You ignored the tingling of your skin in favor of washing off one more time, unsure of when you would get to do so next.

You and Ellie had just finished getting dressed and set when Joel emerged from within the trees. There was slight curl to the hair at the back of his neck, sweat shining on the skin there. His neck was tinged pink where his flannel was unbuttoned and showed the stretched-out collar of his undershirt. You smirked to yourself as you realized he had run off to take care of himself. He cut his eyes at you in a warning as he picked his pack back up and shouldered it.

And with that, your little trio left the state of Missouri.

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beautiful dividers by the lovely @saradika

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