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#I also spent nearly 4 hours making that moodboard i hope you're happy g_g
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Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)
(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)
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Words: 4,028
Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)
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(1983)
"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.
They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...
"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"
Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.
"That was out of your control, mate."
"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"
"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.
"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.
"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"
Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."
"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"
"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.
"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"
"Sav!"
"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"
A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.
"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.
Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.
"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."
~(5 hours earlier)~
A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.
Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"
The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.
You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.
"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."
"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"
That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.
"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.
He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.
"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."
You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."
He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."
He fell quiet.
"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.
"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."
He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.
Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"
"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.
"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."
His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.
"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.
"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."
"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"
"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.
Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.
"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."
Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.
"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."
You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"
"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"
"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."
Joe quietly whined at your declaration.
"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."
The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.
His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"
"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."
"Great. This means she's stronger than me."
You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"
Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."
It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.
Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.
"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"
Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.
He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."
The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.
Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.
It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.
When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.
The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.
Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.
"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.
Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).
"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"
"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."
"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"
"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."
The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.
"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"
Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.
You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.
"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."
***
"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."
"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."
Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.
"What on earth makes you say that?"
"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"
"Really? How so?"
"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."
*** Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.
This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.
To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.
Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.
Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.
That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.
It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.
Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.
Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.
*** "First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."
"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"
"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.
Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.
"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.
"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"
Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.
"She did, didn't she..."
"She definitely did."
Sav was smirking at him now.
Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"
"There's not a doubt in my mind."
"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."
Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.
"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."
Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.
They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.
"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"
Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.
"That's entirely up to you."
*** You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.
After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.
Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.
Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.
Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.
Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.
The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.
"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"
It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.
Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.
"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.
"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."
Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.
"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."
"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."
"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."
"Not you, apparently."
Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.
You wanted to be affectionate with him.
Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"
"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"
"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."
Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.
"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."
You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.
"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"
"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."
Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.
"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."
"What did I do?"
The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.
"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."
"I told you not to worry about it..."
"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."
"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."
Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.
"Oh yeah?" he laughed.
"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."
"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."
"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."
You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."
Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.
The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.
"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."
A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.
You glanced over, "What?"
With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."
"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.
"If it means getting even with you, then yes."
"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"
"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."
That answer was more than enough for you.
Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.
The end
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