Word Count:27k Pairing:None Rating:General Summary: POV Din+OC+The Child— When you reach Tython, Tython reaches you too… Warnings:…more ✨Space Travel , angst, thriller style, hallucinations, childhood traumas…
A/N: This chapter takes right after the end of previous one, after the emergency exit of hyperspace. This chapter is more angsty than all the others but I hope you’ll like it too. Also, this chapter is the last of Part One. And I’m really hoping you’re enjoying the story so far. Part Two is in the work. (I already have a few illustrations ready for it, even! )
BONUS: I offer a drawing to those who guess who’s the guest ‘appearance’ in the last scene! (No joke, I’m really offering.)
— The Jedi Planet
Krrsssh-trshhhk !
The control panel of the cabin door, forcefully opened, spat a bunch of yellow and white sparks at Din’s visor, rivaling with the light from his helmet spot lamp. The power surge had damaged a few components that apparently were still receiving enough power from the auxiliary source to add to the challenge of opening the cabin door.
With a grunt, Din pried open the door by hand again. It creaked, like a balky dewback, but finally slid open a little, enough for Din to see that the whole ship had gone dark. Not that he expected otherwise…
“Ela!” He called again in his helmet’s comlink and through gritted teeth — it couldn’t be a good sign that she didn’t pick up. “Do you copy?! Anton!”
She was with him when he had left the galley, so maybe he could answer for her! With these thoughts in mind, Din didn’t lessen his effort to open the door, which creaked again without opening more than a few centimeters — something must have jammed it. Din jumped to his feet and tried to squeeze himself through the narrow space he had already managed to open; his armor pieces scraped against the frame and thickness of the door, but with a little extra push and no grace, he managed to extract himself out of the cabin with just a few painful grunts. Din almost stumbled as he stepped out of the doorway but he caught himself with both hands on the edge of the door.
Finally free, he wasted no more time and walked up the circular hallway to the galley and lounge by the light of his lamp.
“Ela!” He called again, raising his voice as much for the comlink as to be heard in the hallway. “Anyone?!”
One of the lights in the corridor crackled as he walked by, in a vain attempt to restart, but it went out shortly after. The ship wasn’t as large as the Bold Sister or the Long Storm, and all the amenities were not so far apart, so Din soon reached the galley side. He avoided a tray and two metal bowls on the floor as the beam of his spotlamp revealed Anton’s collapsed form. A small, nervous but familiar squeak made him turn his head to the left where he found Elara, and the child was holding the thumb of her hand stretched out to him. He blinked his large eyes against the lamp light, his ears low and with another sad sound.
Din got down on one knee to feel his little head and ears; he didn’t look hurt, just scared. Then he turned to Elara, pushing her hair away from her face. He rolled her on her back, holding her head carefully.
“Ela, can you hear me?”
He put her head down, and when he touched her cheek, his glove left the bloody imprint of his fingers on her
skin. Din gritted his teeth and checked the palm of his glove by the light of his lamp. In response, the child gave a long, anxious whimper.
“It’s okay, kid,” Din whispered, without turning to him and searching for Elara’s pulse on her neck. “She's… just unconscious.”
And he could feel it under his fingers, even through the thickness of his glove. Reassured, he turned to Anton; a large bloody gash ran across his forehead into his hair, but his pulse was strong too. Elara groaned and wiggled weakly on the floor.
Krrsssh-trshhhk!Sparks in the galley behind them splashed the dark for a spell, and Din shifted his focus back to Elara, changing knees.
“Hey, easy… You knocked your head pretty bad.”
Words of support to which she groaned again, trying to bring a limp hand to her forehead without even opening her eyes.
“Wha—what happened?” she mumbled, jaw clenched.
And she rolled awkwardly to the side to try to stand up. Din supported her with firm hands.
“I think the ship made an emergency exit out of hyperspace.”
“Why?!”
Of that, Din hadn’t the faintest. Elara laid a trembling hand on his left pauldron on which she clenched her fingers, tensing all her muscles in an attempt to get up.
“C'mon.” Din encouraged her, holding her by her arm and with a supporting hand behind her head. “Can you stand?”
“I’ll have to…”
Din winced a smile as he helped her to her feet. She staggered into his arms, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare of his spot lamp and her focus turned to Anton.
“Is he alright?”
“I think so,” Din confirmed. “A few cuts and bruises for what I see.”
In response, Elara let out a weak, creaky groan, clasping her fingers tightly on his pauldron.
“We have to carry him to the medbay…”
“Ela, you—”
“We can’t leave him here!”
Getting upset, panicking, made her lurch again and Din held her tight. He had no intention of leaving the gunner in the hallway; he just hadn’t planned to involve Elara in this effort. Yet he didn’t frustrate her resolve.
“Tell you what,” he said to bring her focus back on him. “I’ll lift him up, and you grab his legs.”
She nodded with a painful frown, her hand, raised so far as a visor, found her bleeding wound at the back of her head. He walked her over to Anton’s motionless form and turned him on his back to lift him under his arms with a little struggle. Once his weight was secured against his chestplate, Elara took hold of his ankles and secured them at her waist.
“You’ll have to walk, kid,” she mumbled to the child who was watching them quietly, out of their way.
He made a short, high-pitched chirp and took a few short steps after them towards the medbay, not far from the galley and lounge. The room was dark and some tools and equipment had been tossed around, but nothing that would trip them up. And, with less trouble than Din had first feared, they hoisted Anton onto one of the beds. He was finally waking up, judging by his low grunts and the nervous twitching of his fingers. Elara examined Anton’s wounded forehead by the light of Din’s spot lamp and then he bent down to pick up the child and place him in Elara’s arms.
“I’m going to see how they are in the cockpit, and try to figure out what happened…”
Elara only nodded, still looking a little stunned.
“Ok, I—um… I’m stayin’ here, with Gun.”
Din stroked her arm in a supportive gesture and jogged out of the medbay towards the cockpit.
Space seemed peaceful and there were no planets visible through the circular viewport in the cockpit where TC was hovering around Neal and Ron, panicking that he couldn’t contact any assistance. Neal was completely ignoring the droid as if he couldn’t hear it, but turned towards the hatch when he heard Din’s hurried footsteps and saw the beam of his lamp.
“Oh, Mandalorian, you are alright!” TC noticed, raising his two-coloured arms as he entered. “This is such a relief!”
Din nodded but it was to Neal and Ron that he asked :
“Is everyone okay ?”
Though obviously stunned, Neal also looked in much better shape than Ron, sitting in his chair and leaning forward to keep his head between his knees.
“We’re fine, Mando. Just a little shaken…” Neal patted Ron’s shoulder as a gesture of support and affection. “How are Ela and Gun? And the little one?”
“The kid is fine but we had to carry Anton to the medbay,” Din told him, coming closer. “He was still unconscious when I left Elara with him.”
He glanced around; anything not riveted in the cockpit had been scattered all over the place and the panel beside the open door crackled ominously.
“What happened?” Din then inquiered.
“We’ve been pulled out of hyperspace. Tessy, try to launch the auxiliary power…”
“At once, captain.”
And the droid waddled over to the panel by the door.
“I think we’ve been caught in the Net…”
“The Net?”
Din had the confused feeling that he was supposed to know what Neal was talking about but it seemed to him that some of his ideas had been scattered around in the impact with the cabin wall despite his helmet already being back in place by the time of the ship decelerated.
“The Imperial Hyperspace Security Net,” Neal reminded him as he delved into the pockets of his jacket. “Oomil said we might stumble upon what’s left of it…”
Indeed, Din remembered now. He peered out through the viewport without moving Ron’s chair, who was groaning his discomfort; there was no sign of ships, beacons or starcrafts. Yet, barring a miscalculation that could have catapulted them into the gravitational field of a celestial body, nothing else could cause such an ejection than a technical failure of the ship or the hyperdive. And clearly, it was neither.
Click-click-clack.Behind Din’s back, TC was unsuccessfully trying to redirect some power from the backup systems to the cockpit.
“What could have caused this?”
But Din didn’t get an answer right away; Neal had whiped out a flat comlink from his inside jacket pocket and was trying to call the mechanic:
“Jox, come in!” — click —“Jox?”
“Yeah, yeah! Kinda busy at the moment, captain!”
Neal heaved a sigh of relief but it was Jox’s voice that insisted, on the other end of the comlink:
“What the kriff did Ron do again?!”
But Ron still didn’t seem in any condition to reply; he straightened up a little and glared at Neal who smiled briefly.
“Ron has nothing to do with it. Not this time. I think we’ve been interdicted, but there is no ship outside, nothing. How are things on your side?”
“Sparkly!”Jox retorted through comlink. “Whatever happened, the power system and hyperdrive didn’t take the surge kindly.”
Neal winced a silent word but let Jox continue:
“All in all, t'could have been way worse. The droid and I are already on it…”
“Can we jump, or do we need to switch on the backup hyperdrive?”
“No, no need,” Jox promptly replied. “We’ll just risk to blast the backup too. I’ll just fix what fuses have blown and then, we’re good to go.”
“Ok,” Neal then said. “I leave my link open, keep me updated.”
And upon these words, the power returned to the entire cockpit in a reassuring hum; the indicator lights flashed on the dashboard and a few alerts pierced the near silence.
“Thanks, Jox!” Neal dropped again into the comlink that he pocketed back right after, without even waiting for an answer.
TC became agitated again as he took a step away from the panel and Din switched off his spot lamp to put it back in his utility belt.
“I regret to say that I’m not the cause of this improvment, captain!”
“It’s alright, Tessy.” Neal made his seat swivel to face the dashboard where he turned the warnings off. “Get back to your post, we’re gonna bounce…”
Even Ron regained some of his composure to sit up straight, and face the viewport again. With a few switching of buttons and pushing of throttles, the engines started up again smoothly and the Riser glided slowly through the black of space at Ron’s command as Neal recalculated their course.
“Incoming automated transmission, captain,” TC chimed in again.
“What does it say?”
Click — TC switched the transmission to the speakers of the comms console. A dissonant droid’s voice delivered its message flatly:
“… entered restricted Imperial space. Provide ISB identification number or you will be terminated.”
Right away, TC added :
“Radar indicates several small crafts heading in our direction. Fast, I might add.”
“Let’s not give them time to see our names aren’t on their special guest list,” Neal joked through gritted teeth, focused on his maneuvers. “Ron, prepare the jump!”
“I’m tryin’, but… I think we have a problem.”
“How big a problem?” Neal asked.
On the control panel, Din could see that the ship’s systems indicated that they were in the gravity well of a planet, making a jump impossible. Neal typed on the keyboard in disbelief.
“How?! We aren’t even in a system!”
“Captain!” TC called. “Scanner indicates ten crafts closing in on our position. We will be swarmed in less than two minutes!”
Din gritted his teeth and glanced down the corridor towards the centre of the ship, and its gunwell, through the cockpit’s open door.
“Dank farrik!” tonna Neal. “And Gun is out! Mando, could you—”
But Din was already rushing to the gunwell that he reached in a few more strides. The gunwell was a tiny, narrow room at the center if which stood a single swivel seat facing a twin firing-grip and a transparisteel gunport. Din settled in the seat as the Riser picked up more speed, both feet on the pedals, and connected his helmet to the intra-ship communication system through the wired headset on the backrest, just in time to hear Neal state:
“Hold on tight everyone, it’s gonna be bumpy!”
Through the gunport, Din spotted six of the crafts flying straight at them in an erratic, nervous flight that defied any organic pilot’s ability — those were droid fighters. But even more alarming was where they came from; far enough away to look almost as small as a ship, Din could make out a station with three dome-like bulges at the top, similar to those on Interdictor-class ships.
“I know why we can’t jump!” He shouted over the intra-com, grabbing both grips, fingers ready on the triggers.
“What?!”Neal exclaimed, as the ship swerved on its port wing, out of the fighters’ line of fire — the chair’s suspension dampened the turn, leaving Din’s aim perfectly steady. “What is it?!”
“It’s a gravity well station!” Din revealed, and he gritted his teeth as handling the gun stirred the pain in his left shoulder. “It’s pinning us down, we can’t jump while we’re in its grip…”
Feet on the pedals, Din trained his gun on one of the droids before they were ready to fire while the other four droids TC had counted appeared on his laser scope before being visible through the gunport.
“Can you destroy it?!” Neal inquired.
One of the fighters fired, but the shots missed wide.
“Not with those cannons. It would take a much heavier firep—”
PEW PEW PEW! Din fired at the first of the droids to enter his scope, but missed; the craft rolled over before firing rapidly at the Riser. Soon, the others came into range too. The Riser dived under fire from the other droids and Din grunted against the pain in his shoulder as he straightened the twin-cannons at the closest drones. As soon as he had lined up another, he pressed the triggers.
PEW PEW PEW PEW!
Din only stopped firing when the lasers pierced the droid, sending it hurtling into the path of another — BOOM!Two down in one shot. But the other droids didn’t slow their attacks to lament the destruction of the first two, dodging their debris with nimble moves that held their fire for only a second. It was enough for Din to line them up in his scope. Neal and Ron had increased the speed again and Din could feel his seat vibrating despite the dampers. He braced himself for another evasive action by the pilots when the nearest droids began firing again.
PEW PEW PEW PEW — CRACK!
The droids’ snapshots brushed and hit the Riser in a blaze of sparks that Din saw through the gunport, his full focus on his scope, and the guns on his current target — BOOM!With a well-aimed round, Din blasted the droid. The others fanned out to avoid the debris and rained scarlet fire on the ship as Neal and Ron zigzagged out of their sights. Several shots hit the hull as Din tried to lock onto the droid that posed the most imminent threat.
“Shields won’t hold much more, captain!” Jox’s voice shouted over the intra-com. “We have to jump outta here!”
Din locked a droid in his scope — PEW PEW PEW!
“Doing our best right now!” Neal retorted. “We’re still trapped in the well for another klick! Mando, can you hold up a lil’ longer?!”
But Din was doing his best too. Without answering, he snapshot the droid that was firing at them while shifting his attacking stance; droids were much more difficult opponents in a dogfight, able to move faster, like no other pilots, and now Din was feeling overwhelmed. Still, he held good. And, his hands on the triggers, he caught the same droid again and managed to destroy it in a blast of red laser — BOOM!
And he kept firing at the remaining six droids, resetting his aim with each turn and dive of the Riser until Neal’s voice clamored in their comms:
“Ok, we’re out! Haul jets, now!”
Space and droids stretched in dazzling lines through the gunport, and with a familiar little jolt, the Riser jumped into hyperspace, engulfed by the tunnel of light. Din relaxed his arms, releasing the triggers and letting himself flop against the seat’s backrest.
“WOOHOO!”Ron burst out on the comms. “That was somethin’!”
Relieved but also oddly out of breath, Din let out a chuckle; quite frankly, he was sharing Ron’s enthusiasm, right now.
In Elara’s arms, the child was much more calm now that they were out of danger, and that the ship was no longer shaking them either. When Neal had warned them to hold on, she had strapped a still unconscious Anton to his bed and, with the child clutched to her, she had curled up on the floor next to the bed’s solid base.
The little one had squealed and whimpered with an anguish she had never known him before, even against the cold of Ontellar, which had only seemed to make him a little grumpy. And to tell the truth, she couldn’t get out of her head what they’d read in Crent’s articles and notes, and what he’d told them himself about the powers of the Jedi; perhaps this little one felt more intensely the danger that threatened them out there, and that all the turmoil and fear in the Riser was becoming his own?!
So, despite Neal and Ron’s turbulent flight, despite everything that wasn’t stored in drawers and lockers being tossed around, Elara had tried to keep herself calm, to manage to appease him. At least a little. And he had seemed receptive, even though he had kept his clawed little fingers tightly closed on her collar. And he had only let go when they were back in hyperspace.
With the child sitting on the large headboard equipped with various controls and devices, Elara had then turned her attention to Anton. He had been in and out for the last few minutes and, now that they had jumped into relative safety, she had plenty of time to take care of the gash on his forehead. A little spray of bacta and a patch of sticky gauze had been enough there. She had to scan his wrist too where he was bleeding a little from a cut across an already big bruise. Nothing broken according to the readings, but a nasty sprain that would need some rest in a tight dressing sleeve. Her treatments complete, she turned the switch on the headboard controls to dim the lamp above Anton.
“Hey, Sprinkles…”
Elara smiled.
“Finally awake?” She taunt him, on a tender tone.
He winced a painful smile and brought a heavy hand to his forehead and its bandage.
“How’s the kid?”
And as an answer, the child chirped a soft trill as he leaned over Anton from the top of the headboard.
“He’s fine.” Elara chuckled. “Thanks to you.”
“Hey, lil’ bug…” Anton raised his arms to touch the child’s ears but stopped himself halfway when he noticed the bandage on his wrist. “Oh, I really’ve been through it, hey?”
Elara winced and a sharp pain in the back of her head reminded her that she hadn’t tended to her own injuries yet. With a cautious hand, she felt the crusty blood tugging at her hair.
“How are you, Gun?” Neal’s voice inquired from the open door.
And he entered the medbay, followed by Ron, Jox and Din. Elara lowered her hand to the back of her neck; she would take care of that later.
“I’m good, captain.” He sat up with the help of an elbow and a grunt. “What happened, anyway?”
“We’ve been pulled out of hyperspace by a gravity well station,” Neal simply said.
Anton’s face darkened like before one of his memorable bursts of anger.
“Those karkin’ things are still up and runnin'…” He wasn’t asking, it was an observation. “Any ships nearby?” How did we escape?!“
"Only droid fighters,” Neal said, placatingly. “And Mando took care of them.”
Anton glowered at Din but he had the hint of a smile in his beard and he bobbed his head, approvingly.
“And you took us out of it alive?”
A question to which Din nodded.
“Apparently.”
A moment of tense silence stretched in the medbay and then, without warning, Anton laughed. He raised his injured hand to slap Din’s arm and grunted at the wave of pain the stunt sent through his wrist.
“Good job, Mando.” He rubbed the thick sleeve of gauze “Yeah, good job…”
Elara held back a smile, touched to see them get along.
“I can see why the Big Imps kept talkin’ about takin’ your planet, now.”
“You served in the Imperial Navy?” Din understood.
Anton let out a short, muffled grunt as he shook his head.
His tone was as proud as Elara knew him to be of that fact; serving on this capital ship almost drove him insane. And she heard his voice crack with anger and emotion when he added :
“Some time before the whole Alderaan mess…”
And he glanced at Neal, Elara and the kid, sitting quietly on the headboard touching the buttons within reach. In the general silence, Neal turned to Jox:
“Damage report?”
“A few scratches on the hull, nothing too serious, or that the droid won’t fix as soon as we’d stop somewhere cozy. The power surge has caused quite a stress on the system too, but the droid and I are already on it.”
“What about the hyperdrive?”
“Still a bit cranky but it’ll hold. I’ll fix what need fixing next time we’re out but we’d be smart to go easy on it for the next jumps.”
He grumbled a brief sound, similar to a ronto snort.
“How much more do we have to do?”
“We’re up to three left but, it’s four now, because of this exit,” Ron recapped.
To what Neal added:
“Provided we won’t get pulled out again. Ron, you should get some rest, I’ll manage for a few hours with Tessy.”
In response, Ron jumped off the edge of the second bed of the medbay, landing his feet back on the ground.
“Alright,” dit-il. “Move along, then. And, Gun! Don’t make your wounds worse, this time, ok?”
In response, Anton raised his gauze-clad arm, and after a nod, Neal stepped out of the medbay, following Jox and Ron. Anton sat down on the edge of the bed as if to get off it, but turned to face the child, and flipped the regulator to increase the intensity of the light above the bed. The child looked up at him with big black eyes and a happy squeak.
“Fun, uh?”
Elara glanced at Din as he stood behind her back to examine the wound on her head; she bit her lip to hold back a complaint as he parted strands of hair from her scabs. And his vocoder let out a low, muffled grunt as he reached up to rummage through one of the supply lockers beside the bed. She wondered then if he too had been injured in the deceleration, or if his shoulder was simply still hurting.
“So, Mando…” Anton broke the silence. “How d'you like my rocker?”
“It’s a nice one.”
Anton barked a laugh.
“A nice one?!”
Elara grinned at Din’s visor. She could tell he was smiling too when he added, on a casual tone:
“Yeah.Very comfy.”
Anton laughed some more.
“I know, right?!”
Din put some gauzes on the shelf where Elara had left the torn flimsi wrappers and rested a gloved hand on the back of her head.
“Don’t move.”
But Elara had no intention of doing so. Soon, she felt the cold spray of bacta wetting her hair and wound. She winced at the stinging sensation and the cold drops sliding down her neck.
“This is, by far, the nicest station I’ve ever had the pleasure to slot my exhaust port in… And what about the guns, Mando?!”
Elara snorted at Anton’s excitment but also to know that if Din was feeling comfortable enough, he’d be more than loquacious on the subject of ships and their armament. Behind her, Din stopped the spray and put it on the tray.
“I mean, they’re CEC standard-issue but pretty sharp, right?” Anton went on.
He shrugged as Din patted Elara’s shoulder to signal that he was done with treating her.
“I bet you had to punch those droids a few time before they went down, though ! Those cannons are just big blasters next to the shockers I had to handle on that karking destroyer…”
Anton brushed his beard, looking gloomy but his tone was still rather light as he added:
“With turbolasers like that, you could punch through deflector shields and some pretty heavy defensive layers, like on armored spaceships, y'know?”
Elara watched Din’s reaction but he just nodded.
“It cuts through pirates like, uh… like, um… hmm…”
His voice quavered and he furrowed his thick eyebrows, clearing his throat, and his whole face went white as his mood darkened. And he said nothing more, watching the grey ground beneath their feet. Elara laid a comforting hand on his arm.
“I honestly wouldn’t know where to begin to use that station like you do, brothers!” she said. “I only know how to handle blasters. So, I take your word for it!”
And Din added of his own accord, in that soft, calm voice that Elara knew so well, even though he kept his tone casual:
“They are great guns even for a standard-issue. Very responsive.”
This comment seemed to sweep away the storm in Anton’s mind; he raised his head, his blue eyes still a little reddened, but he smiled.
“Yeah! And I told Neal they could be even better with a few adjustments but Jox won’t let me touch his tools! Can you believe that?!”
Din bobbed his head, neither affirmative nor negative. Anton nodded vigorously and jumped to his feet with confidence, even though he held on tightly to the edge of the bed for a second longer. Then, he put a large hand on Elara’s and turned to the kid; he took him at arm’s length. The kid burst into happy laughters.
“Mind if I take this lil’ guy for a spin?”
He smiled wide at the child who chirped a few quiet sounds, ears up.
“Just to peek at hyperspace through the gunport for a few minutes,” he added. “I’ll even have the headset on, if you need to ring and check on him.”
He glanced at Elara and then Din with an uncertain, almost shy look that she was discovering him.
“Sure, why not,” Din agreed.
And Anton nodded, with a deep breath as he tucked the child comfortably into his big arms.
“You’d like to come visit the ship with me, buddy?”
The child squeaked in joy.
“Take it easy, you two,” Elara told them, tenderly.
“Of course!”
Elara stroked one of the child’s small hands, resting on his bandaged arm. And she stepped aside to let them leave the medbay. Din came and stood beside her.
“Did he tell you what happened to him when he served?”
Elara winced with a brief shrug and crossed her arms.
“Barely. I know a few things, but he never goes in depth. He just says something, and then…”
She gritted her teeth and shared a knowing look with Din who nodded.
“Thanks for the bacta.” She pointed to her head with her thumb. “I already feel better.”
Din nodded again, and she knew he was smiling behind his visor.
The next hours of travel went by without any more emergency exits, just the six others they knew they had to expect. According to Jox, the hyperdrive had groaned a little but took it bravely. Meaning that it would need some maintenance as soon as they’d land. But for now, they finally were on a steady sublight course to Tython.
Around the standard lunchtime, Din and Elara had taken the kid for a snack in the ship’s lounge area. There, Din had settled down with the datapad a little aside, sitting on one of the swivel seats next to the engineering station’s console, whose faint, regular flashes had a soothing effect. He had begun to review all the information they had annotated about Tython while Elara shared a large bowl of Mon Cal food with the child, humming a few songs she had heard and learned from him and the other Mandalorians in the stronghold. She was sorry she couldn’t remember the words, but according to Din, that was for the better; some of them were rather rude.
Ron, Jox and Anton had eventually joined them after a little rest to finally take the time to enjoy a meal, free of the stress of the last few hours. And once his mind was lighter, Ron’s natural talkative and cheerful nature had taken over. And at this point, he had started to boast about his feats at the academy and the trickiest starfighter maneuvres he had learned there.
“And that’s when Tidas and Umaar tried their Gandder’s Spin too, but later my wingman and I went for an Under Split, and they just couldn’t evade that!”
Din had a faint smile; it was indeed a rather complex maneuvre, dangerous even. Especially for the leader. Standing between the table and the console to take advantage of the space to stroll and stretch her legs, Elara asked, curious:
“And what’s an under splitexactly?”
“Ah, blast…” Anton grumbled, with as much humour as genuine annoyance. “Don’t ask him things like that, Elak! He won’t shut up again!”
He reclined against the backrest with a grunt, and taking his cutlery out of his bowl, the leftovers of which he had given to the child. Ron took no offence at all at this comment, smiling broadly, and answered Elara’s question:
“It’s one very dangerous tactical maneuver, one that requires the leader to know and have full control of his craft…”
He paused as Neal came through the cockpit corridor and crossed the lounge to the galley, not saying a word but paying attention. Ron ran a hand over his short curls, one of his legs under the lounge table beating out a relentless rhythm that only he could hear before continuing, using his hands to mimic the flight of two ships:
“You need two crafts for that. Lead man is taking all the heat to act as a bait and while wingman shot away… You have to trust your wingman and his reflexes on this one!”
He made sure Elara was listening, and even Din, before going on, over the sounds of the autochef’s engine from the galley:
“Once your enemy took the bait, you spin and avoid all shots as best you can, and that’s the sweatiest place to hold in that tactic! But then, wingman reverses up hard and takes position behind your attacker…”
He used his hands again, flapping them in place to illustrate.
“Or under, and then — PEW PEW PEW!”
And he used both hands to imitate the blast of an explosion — boom! — before letting them fall flat on the table, almost startling the child, who perked up his ears with a surprised sound. Anton chuckled and placed his injured arm behind the kid, as if to keep him from falling off the edge of the table. Neal was coming back to them with a bowl from which he had already taken a spoonful of its contents, and stopped beside Elara.
“Did that trick a few time, as leader and wingman, and never a drop of sweat! Takes more than that to scare me, in fact…”
“Says the one who’s scared out of his wits by corellian hounds,” Neal taunt him.
“Have you seen those things up close?!”
Anton laughed even more and Neal smiled as he turned to Din and asked, in that same conversational tone:
“What are your plans once we land on Tython? Do you know where you have to go out there exactly? Will we have to do some exploration?”
If there was any exploring to do, and Din thought there would be, he intended to do it on his own.
“I have a few leads.” He tapped the edge of the datapad case with his index finger. “But, if there is need of exploring, I thought of using my jetpack.”
He bobbed his head.
“But I have a limited amount of fuel in it.”
Neal cracked a brief smile.
“A chance that there’s plenty for a few spins in the shuttle over there, then.”
With a nod, he motioned to one of the corridors. And this information made Din raise his eyebrows and straighten up a little in his seat.
“You have a shuttle?”
“Of course!” Neal scoffed. “C'mon. Let me show you.”
He took another spoonful of the content of his bowl before handing it to Ron as he passed by the table. He received it with a hungry cheer and took a generous spoon of it as if it were his own bowl. Din got up and followed Neal and Elara into the corridors after a glance at the kid, perfectly at ease in Ron and Anton’s care.
“It’s the one from the Riser 1,” Neal explained them, as they made their way to the port side. “We barely used it and never as an escape pod, thankfully! So, it was in perfect condition. No need to change it.”
He stopped in front of a wider and thicker hatch than the cabin and cockpit doors. With a press on the side panel, he opened the door on a relatively narrow space at the end of which stood a switched-off piloting station under a viewport similar to that of the gunwell and cockpit, and behind which the black of space slid at the speed of the ship. Added to that, one piloting seat and two other seats on each side of the bulkhead. Not much else, but still much more than any other escape pods. Neal sidestepped to let Din peek inside.
“There’s an honest shielding and quite powerful thrusters, onboard communication and flight control systems, and you can switch in automated landing too without even bothering to be at the controls.”
Din hoped he wouldn’t need this. Neal patted one of his pauldron to invite him to enter with him and, once inside, he slapped an overhead locker with his hand.
“Medpack’s in there, toolbox too and the usual electronic spare parts for the dashboard. Also, a few dry rations.”
Despite all these encouraging features, Din had some concerns to which he gave voice:
“Are you sure there will be enough fuel in it for me to scout a continent?”
He glanced anxiously at Elara, who stood in the shuttle’s entrance. Neal shrugged and thrust his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket with the company logo.
“If you were to make an entry in the planet’s atmosphere, no ! It would burn half of it, if not more. But the Riser will do that for you, so you can disengage in the blue to save fuel, and fly by like with any airspeeder. Not exactly standard issue on a YT, but I like to keep my mobility, you see?”
Din nodded.
“And should you wind up stuck somewhere, we’d come to get you, of course.”
He had a brief laugh, and then asked:
“Sounds good to you, Mando?”
It did. And in fact, it was near perfect, actually! Even though he hoped he wouldn’t need all that. But he had no time to express his gratitude that Ron’s voice shouted from the corridor:
“Hey, captain!”
And almost a second after, he was beside Elara at the shuttle’s entrance.
“Tee says we’re here!”
At these words, Din gritted his teeth and clenched his fists on the datapad.
“Well, Mando, what d'you say we get accointed with your mysterious planet, now?”
Through the viewport loomed the crescent of a large greenish planet, ensnarred in a ring of thick clouds; Crent’s records spoke of two moons but only one was visible at the angle of their arrival. TC was at the controls and Anton turned with the child in his arms as they entered the cockpit.
“Hope you know where you need to go, Mando!” He greeted them with. “'Cause it looks like one big planet!”
Elara glanced at Din who didn’t reply and continued to walk forward, gazing at the planet through the bay as Ron took his place beside TC who informed them:
“The planet matches the navicomputer’s recent additions, but there is no signal from the surface or any spaceport to contact to assure a safe landing, captain.”
“Yeah, guess not.” Neal patted one side of the backrest. “Thank you, Tessy. Now move, I’m taking over.”
“Of course, captain.”
And TC easily pulled himself out of the seat where Neal immediately settled down. He and Ron steered the Riser on a sharper curve towards Tython.
“So, where to, Mando?” He asked.
Elara turned her attention away from the planet to check the notes she and Din had made on the datapad he’d given her on the way out of the shuttle; his priority was one of those nameless temples — or rather, its ruins — nestled deep in a mountain on a continent described as lush and vast. But Elara doubted they should trust these outdated descriptions; Oomil had told them that the place had been classified as barren by the Empire, of more recent memory.
“Go around this continent,” Din requested, with a move of his hand towards the viewport, and the planet through it. “I don’t have geopositional data. All I know is that the place I’m looking for first should be on the northern coast of a large continent…”
“They all look very big, Mando!” Ron bantered.
And Elara rather agreed with him; the two halves of the visible continents on this crescent of planet seemed to extend beyond its daylight curve. The Riser pushed on, closing in on the blue halo that encompassed Tython until they could make out the most prominent landforms, the intensity of the blue of the seas and oceans that bordered the continents and the peaks of some of the mountains that clawed at the clouds.
“The mountains I’m looking for should be near a sea,” Din. told them. “With wide inlets, in the shape of claw marks…”
A moment of silence stretched in the cockpit.
“I’m afraid nothing here seems to fit to your description, Mandalorian,” TC broke the silence.
Din nodded, and the tension in his voice wasn’t lost on Elara when he replied:
“Maybe it’s on the night side right now…”
“We’re going in, and take a closer look,” Neal then said. “Ron, prepare the entry.”
Ron and Neal busied themselves on the dashboard and overhead panel before steering the Riser into Tython’s atmosphere. The entry was smooth and they let the ship continue its course along the planet, sinking into the night speckled with the alarming glow of a volcano and its lava flow freezing in the sea. While the continents were vast, they were not very lush. From what they could see in the night, the place seemed indeed barren and even downright hostile.
“I hope that ain’t the place, Mando,” Anton grumbled.
A remark to which Neal mumbled, careful:
“Actually, this rock doesn’t look inhabited at all…”
“I have a bad feeling about this place,” Ron muttered too.
And quite frankly, so did Elara. She glanced at Din, whose attention hadn’t wavered from the planet and its features through the viewport. His silence seemed to weigh heavier, accompanied by that of everyone in the cockpit — even the child was unusually quiet. The ship continued for several more kilometers until the night became clearer and revealed more of its rugged landscape.
“Here!” Elara exclaimed, and she pointed at the broken coastline to the north of the continent, at the foot of a mountain range that stretched in icy spikes into lands that looked burnt. “Look, the claws!”
“This could be the place,” Neal admitted. “Mando, what do you think?”
His question was initially met with silence, Din’s focus not event shifting from the broken landscape through the viewport.
“We have to find you a safe place to land first,” he finally said in answer.
“But… we can land just here,” Neal replied, puzzled and with a move of one hand towards a ashy plain spiked with burnt-looking trees. “There is a perfec—”
“No.” Din cut him short. “I don’t know what dangers, or defenses to expect around a place like this other than the feral species your cartographer talked about. I’ll go on my own… so if anything happens, you can bail safely out of here.”
Elara let her gaze fall on him, but she wasn’t surprised that he gave her the impression to ignore it. Neal, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate to voice his opinion:
“You don’t make all that 'lil trip and place sound very reassuring, so… I’m fine with your strategy.”
Elara drew a sharp breath in, and only then Din tilted his helmet towards her, and she could perfectly picture his eyes casting a sheepish glance at her behind his visor. Yet, neither he nor she said anything.
“The shuttle is yours,” Neal then stated. “Good luck out there, Mando.”
Ron and Neal steered the ship further out of the night towards the barren, rocky plains still bathed in the reddish light of the sunset. Then, Din straightened up and turned to Anton, who raised his thick eyebrows, then frowned.
“Looks like it’s where we say goodbye, lil’ bug,” he said to the child, voice tight.
Elara gritted her teeth and blinked; if Din were to find these Jedi, hidden or not on this unwelcoming planet, then he’d come back without him… The child seemed to understand the meaning of his words, letting out a long squeak as he stooped his ears. Anton cleared his throat to utter:
“You’ll be, um… you’ll be fine with your kind there, I’m sure.”
The child blinked, his little clawed fingers scratching the bandage on Anton’s wrist. He nodded and returned the kid to Din’s arms, adding:
“Yeah, good luck out there…”
Din nodded, settling the child against his chestplate and, after a glance at Elara, he left the cockpit. She leapt after him, her hands clasped at the datapad to keep them from shaking.
“Are you sure there’s anything to find on this rock?” she wondered as she caught up with him in the corridor, on their way to the cabin. “Neal’s right…”
Din slowed down in front of the door and Elara lowered her voice, reluctant to say the words that sent a chill down her back.
“It looks uninhabited and-and… dead, even. What if the Empire already bombed this place and there’s no-one to find here anymore?”
Hissss — The door slid open on the interior of the cabin, which lit up softly as they entered. Din handed the child over to her to walk to the bed and pick up his jetpack from the floor.
“I don’t know, Ela.”
She was aware that her intervention wasn’t helping, but she couldn’t explain why she suddenly felt so restless, anxious, buzzing with the urge to jump as far away from here as possible, and not to leave this little one there, whether there were any Jedi to find here or not.
Maybe it was only heartache at the impending separation from the child, she supposed. And yet she felt something else, something more intense, something deeper, something primal… As heavy and overwhelming as a lingering pain she couldn’t pinpoint anywhere in her own body.
“But we’re here now.” Din reconnected his jetpack to his backplate. “So, I’ll go fly by these inlets, and search this whole mountain for ruins of villages and temples carved in, like it’s described in Cornell’s files, and then…”
He shook his head slowly.
“And then search for another before running out of fuel.”
Elara gave him a kind smile.
“You’ll need this, then…”
He took the datapad she held out to him.
“Thank you.”
And he preceded her out of the cabin and to the shuttle in which they entered. Din put the datapad on the dashboard that he then began to switch on and set up. A step during which the child grabbed the open collar of Elara’s jacket. She looked down at him.
“It’s gonna be alright,” she murmured, fondling his little hand. “Like Gun said, if there are Jedi down there, they will know how to take care of you proper.”
“Prrr…”
Elara winced a poor smile and took the small metal toy from one of her pockets. The child’s eyes didn’t drift from hers, even as he took the toy in his free hand.
“I’m glad we’ve met. I hope you’ll remember us when you’ll be a big, wise Jedi soon… 'Cause I’m sure you will!”
Pent-up tears stung her throat as she spoke again:
“You’re a good kid…”
“Aaah!”
She held him close, and the child rubbed his forehead against her cheek. Din was getting up from the pilot’s seat when the shuttle began to hum and shake softly under their feet.
“Goodbye, Tip-yip,” she said again, before giving him back to Din’s arms.
With both hands, Elara pushed away the tears and faced the impassive visor, sniffing. He said to her, his vocoded voice more tight than usual:
“I’ll get back to your landing position once I’ll know for certain what’s out there, or not…”
Elara pursed her lips and nodded in response before touching his gloved hand; her fingers found their way under the leather and Din relaxed the muscles in his hand to welcome them against his palm.
“Crent’s files were also talking of many unknown dangers and predators out there,” she reminded him, trying to keep her anxiety under control. “And we don’t know what may still be lurkin’ now…”
She bit her lip and Din folded his fingers over hers in his glove.
“Just…come back alive,” she then whispered to him low enough to hide the emotion in her voice.
Words to which Din nodded a single time. He then lowered his head a little to touch Elara’s forehead with his helmet’s. Heart lighter, she closed her eyes at this contact and even managed to smile. Then, they stepped apart and she released his hand.
“I’ll keep my link open,” he told her. “And the shuttle’s too.”
“You better!”
She took one last look at the child and stroked the tip of one of his ears, then forced herself to back up, and finally turned to get out of the shuttle, her breath short and a lump in her throat. Din closed behind her. The Riser’s hatch locked with a pressurising sound and the whole bulkhead shook a little as the shuttle disengaged.
Her steps stiff and fists balled, she walked back to the cockpit where Neal and Ron had slowed down for Din to separate from the ship; Elara could see the shuttle now gliding more slowly a few meters below, and in the opposite direction. An overwhelming feeling, bordering on irrational fear, came over her and she ran her hands through her hair, scratching her skin with her short fingernails down to the back of her neck as if hoping to get rid of it. But the feeling lasted, swelling in her chest, almost suffocating her.
“The sensors indicate that the selected site is safe for landing, captain.”
TC’s modulated voice pulled Elara from her thoughts and the shuttle disappeared as the Riserturned.
“Ok, no time to waste,” Neal told them. “We have a lot of repairs to keep us busy up until next nightfall, whenever that will be here!”
And as the ship plunged on a downward curve, Elara felt like she was sinking with it.
The shuttle was sinking into the night, dark with a mass of iron-tinged clouds that flickered briefly, as if struck by a bolt of lightning. And it must have been a storm forming over the sea, stretching in angry black waves as far as the eye could see. The inlets in claw marks were fringed with grey foam at every wave that came crashing against the rock and earth, and Din pushed the shuttle’s engines a little against a strong gust of wind that threatened to knock him off course by several meters.
By the light of a new cloud-coated flash, Din could spot the ruined shapes of what may once have been a village further down these inlets and higher up on what looked like a flat hill; the stone foundations of buildings covered with blackened vegetation, the long curve of a fortification facing the land broken by fallen dead trees, the ruins of a towering archway that opened to a wide mountain path that nature seemed to have failed to claim.
Din flew over the ruins of this lifeless village, explored the surroundings and those of the mountain which stood like a row of dark thorns, careful to follow the twists and turns of the path, which sometimes disappeared into the rocky crags and the night, until he found his destination under a new flash of storm; the entrance to a cave, its thick, carved lintel half collapsed. Jaw set, he took a deep breath; apparently, he had just found the gate of one of those temples about the use and significance of which Cornell had speculated so much in his notes.
Another flash of lightning in the clouds cast an ominous glow over the entrance to the cave; the storm was approaching. Din flew over the nearby area, slowing down a little to try and find a safe place to land, but the whole mountainside was far too steep to accommodate a ship, even one as small and agile as his. He would have to land in the valley, possibly even as low as near the village, and jetpack up here. And he wasn’t too happy about that, with the threat of a storm on the horizon. But Din sighed softly and turned the craft around, heading for the foot of the mountain. There, and a little further away from the village in sight of its collapsed arch gate, Din would land the shuttle on a flat, fairly solid-looking strip of land. The thrusters grumbled and didn’t allow for as controlled a landing as Din used to make; the whole interior shook as the landing gears made contact with the ground, and even the child squeaked a little in the chair behind him.
With a few flick of switches, Din brought the shuttle and its entire dashboard to a halt before standing up. Through the narrow viewport that faced the ruins of the village several meters away, he could make out that the sun had to be rising on the coast, somewhere behind the thick black clouds that were packing against the mountains from the sea. No, Din really didn’t like the idea of being stuck in a storm, here or in this cave.
Teeth clenched but resolute, he walked around his seat to find the child, strangely silent and perhaps even a little pale; he raised his large eyes to his visor without a sound, and blinked slowly, his little toy clutched in his hands. Not knowing what to say to him to break the heavy silence, he first put his jetpack on his back. Then, he leaned over to the child and took him in his arms.
“C'mon, kid…”
To speak these words hurt, like trying to speak with a pair of hands clasped around his throat. And yet he added bravely:
“We’re gonna have to fly all the way up there, so… why don’t you give me that and I’ll keep it safe for you.”
He held out the palm of his gloved hand. The child looked up at him, seemed to hesitate, his ears drooping and letting out a small squeak which Din felt pulsing in his arm clamped around him. Then, with a last look at his toy, he placed it in Din’s hand, who weighed it, still detailing it; if he had been astonished, and even impressed, to discover another of the unexpected things this little one knew how to do, now Din wondered at the extent of all he had been taught, and why.
“Don’t worry,” he said, tucking the toy into one of the blasterbelt’s leather pockets. “I’ll give it back to you once we’re back here.”
He didn’t expect to find anyone in that cave, but rather clues, traces that he would have to track down to the actual hidding place of anyone matching the description of one of those Jedi in Cornell’s documents.
Din then walked to the shuttle’s hatch and pressed the panel in the bulkhead; the door slid open onto a dead, grey landscape of which he felt nothing of the cool temperature read by the sensors, sheltered in his armor. With a glance, he checked on the kid ; he didn’t look surprised or bothered by the cold so he jumped with two feet from the hatch’s edge into the thin fog crawling on the ground. And, after closing the shuttle, he walked towards the village’s ruins in an unnerving silence, aside from the crunching of thick, brownish grass under his boots and the distant rumble of waves in the inlets far down the hillside.
Din walked through the broken archway, stepping over some of its huge rubble, covered with the dull, singed foliage under the pallid mist that stretched out in shreds, and startling a few insects with long, iridescent wings that fluttered noiselessly into the questionable shelter of a peeled bush. But Din went past the bush without disturbing its occupants any further, walking between these ghostly buildings whose walls were lying on the ground, their stone smoothed by time like pebbles in a river bed.
Further on, after having climbed a cracked pillar, thrown across a long path knitted with black vines like a web of sharp veins, Din found this other arch that opened on to the mountain and its path still visible from the sky. And it was also visible from the ground, despite the mist and brambles.
“That’s from where we’ll go airborne,” Din muttered for the child, still silent in the crook of his arm. “There’s a cave up that path…”
With a wave of his hand, he pointed to the dirt and rock path that nature seemed to carefully avoid, save for those black, thorney vines he’d had to burn to get through — but quite frankly, Din would rather save his time, and flamethrower’s fuel in case of actual danger, not use it foolishly on a mere annoyance while he could just fly, even at the cost of discretion.
“Hold on tight, ok?”
The child cooed a little, tiny fingers gripping his thumb and Din activated his jetpack, the burning heat of which he felt behind his legs, even through the fabric of his flightsuit. He looked at the sky and the surroundings; everything felt frozen in time, everything felt dead, as Elara had said. Yet, Din would still be mindful. Many things and people he had thought dead had become his most pressing concerns…
Din took a step towards the arch, and then another to take off. Another flash of lightning shone through the cloud layer, casting a gloomy light over the ground and the village’s ruins which grew smaller as he rose. The fog seemed thicker between the shapes of collapsed buildings and their bare foundations, greyer, like smoke, the harsh taste of which he thought he could feel on his tongue and scratch his throat. He thought he heard the echo of distant screams on the wind, the cracking sound of blasterfire over the wooshing of his jetpack, and the ruins he left behind blended with vivid memories of his own village.
Din gritted his teeth, and held the child tighter against him, to turn his focus and the weight of his body towards the eastern side of the mountain where he would find the entrance to the cave.
Wooossshtt!
As soon as Din’s feet touched the almost flat rock ground that stretched across the entrance to the cavern, the jetpack’s thrusters shut down. If a slight buzzing sound lingered in his ears, everything around him was as silent and lifeless as in the valley. Even the storm and the wind hadn’t yet reached that side of the mountain that the pale morning light was trying to reach through the thick clouds. Against him, the child wiggled a little. So, Din unwrapped the safety of his arms to check on him ; he looked fine, though he gave him a look that Din found a little anxious. Quite frankly, so was he… And even more so when he turned to the gaping, pitch-black entrance of the cave. Its massive frame, carved with faded patterns, was split in two and laid across, but as Din approached it, he found that it wouldn’t block his way in at all. With one hand, he reached into one of his blasterbelt pockets and pulled out his rifle’s spot lamp, which he secured to the side of his helmet.
“Ok.” Din sighed without taking his eyes off the the giant stone rubble and the darkness beyond. “Let’s be careful in those ruins…”
He heard the child squeak a little and stomp his arm to curl up against his chestplate, one of his ears folded against the beskar. So, taking his reaction as a sign that he was ready, Din lit his lamp and stepped under the broken gate. He didn’t even have to bend down. The beam of light splashed across the high walls of bare rock and a pathway littered with more carved stone and rubble, that Din avoided and stepped over cautiously. At least the ground felt solid under his feet. And a few meters further on, it gave way to a long descent of wide, rock-cut steps into an oval room, empty except for piles of dust and more rubble; Din looked up, and the beam of his lamp followed, to see a few small chips of stone and dust raining down from an archway that stretched so high in the darkness that it was almost invisible.
A deep, low rumble was echoing in there, like the snoring of a giant beast sleeping in the womb of the mountain. And if Din’s first thoughts turned to mythosaurs and the legendary Taunruk, which had given its name to the mountain range that dominated Kragsted and the stronghold, his logic and knowledge of natural environments leaned more towards the sea and the wind that crashed in waves against the mountain on the coast. And there was something mind-numbing about that slow, steady rumble… Din could fe
If he’s having a quickie somewhere like a dressing room, there’s really no time for aftercare. Yeah, he’ll get both of you something to clean up with and spend a few minutes recovering before one or both of you leaves, but that’s about it.
If it’s just fucking - in a bed or a trailer, he’s fine with catching his breath for a little while before worrying about clean up or getting dressed, but he doesn’t cuddle - never the first time hooks up with someone. That sends the wrong message.
If it’s a repeat encounter - someone he knows in a specific city, an actor or actress he’s worked with before (like the makeup girl that worked on two seasons of the sitcom he guest starred on), he’s a little more personable, and takes things a little further.
It’s not quite “holding you against my chest” cuddling, but Dieter has no issue with sleeping next to someone that he trusts, and if that means body parts are touching someone else’s while unconscious, he isn’t going to freak out about it when he wakes up.
But if it’s with someone that he’s in a relationship with, he definitely lets his guard down more and allows himself to get closer. That means touching. That means exploring. That means care and affection and attention - and it makes him feel much more vulnerable, which he doesn’t always like.
Even with Mara, who was his “realest” relationship (before you), there was always that fear of being vulnerable, because Dieter equates caring for someone with trusting them - the same way that person trusts him with their body + ensuring it’s cleaned up after sex. Aftercare can be just as intimate as actual sex, and Dieter is well aware of this.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Dieter’s favorite of his own body parts is his face - but not for the reason you might think. It’s because he knows that his ability to use his face is what helps keep him employed. His facial expressions draw people in - show them what he’s thinking and feeling, and he can use it as a mask if he needs to - and he does often. Dieter’s good at showing people what he wants them to see - and even if sometimes, the words that come out of his mouth don’t quite match the way he looks? Well people still go based on what they see.
On you? His immediate answer would be your mouth - he likes the way you use it, and I don’t just mean for sexual stuff. (He’ll never ever tell you no when it comes to that, though, because you are damngood to him.) He likes how you joke with him. Likes how you laugh. Likes the way sometimes when you concentrate your tongue pokes between your teeth or into your cheek. He also really likes the way your lips look when they curve upward into a huge smile at the sight of him - especially when you haven’t seen each other in a while.
Bonus:Your favorite part of Dieter?
His fucking hands. Strong, thick fingers. Wide, warm palms. The way you can always tell what kind of a mood he’s in based on where they’re at and what they’re doing. (Hanging at his sides, fingers loose? Dieter’s calm and relaxed. Thumbs tucked against his palms and his fingers flexing? He’s a little on edge. One thumb pressed against the bullseye tattoo? It’s time to get him out of his own head.) But the best is when they’re on you, because you can feel the strength in them, even when they’re just resting on your skin. You can feel how into you he is when he brushes his fingertips over your temple or your lips, or even just grazes his thumb over the back of your hand. You like his hands most because you like being touched by Dieter … but to be completely honest, you just like him, and the hands are an added bonus.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He likes the mess. He likes the way it feels when you come - because it’s a physical reaction that tells him what he’s doing is right, that you like it, that your body responds to what he does. The man always finds an excuse to taste you - either straight from the source or via his fingers (or your own, which happens a lot because he likes it when you touch yourself, too)
As for his? Most of the time, it’s not very messy because he does use protection whenever he actually has sex. But when you’re going down on him, or when he’s taking care of business and getting himself off - or when you manage to catch him off guard and he comes before he has a chance to put the condom on? He loses his mind at the sight of it on your skin or his.
And when the two of you finally make the decision to stop using condoms and switch to only using other forms of birth control? Neither of you will ever forget the sound he made the first time he finished inside you of you and then almost immediatelydove down to clean the mess between your legs with his tongue. It’s not about the way he tastes himself - but the two of you combined? He can’t get enough.
D = Dynamic (what kind of dynamic do they have with their partner? Dom? Sub? Switch?)
Dieter hands down will tell you that he’s a switch, but the truth is that he’s more submissive than anything else. There are certain phrases he uses and requests he makes of you (“look at me”, “get up here”, “sit/lay down”, etc) and when he says them you don’t even hesitate to do as he’s asking … but most of the time? It’s you that’s leading, at least in terms of deciding what exactly is going to happen.
He loves confidence. He loves someone that knows what they want in bed and what they expect from a partner - and when you’re able to articulate that? He’s gone. It turns him on so goddamn much when the person he’s with takes control of a situation and leads him. A lot of people just want to get fucked by an actor - and so they expect him to direct them, which he’s done quite a lot - but it isn’t his favorite.
He doesn’t like being bossed around, and there’s a fine line between making pointed requests and cruelty. Even in the moment, Dieter’s not afraid to tell you when you’re approaching - or have crossed - that line.
This mostly comes from the way that he’s been treated on set in the past by shitty directors and entitled costars, and he doesn’t want degradationin the bedroom from either side - he just wants someone else to make decisions sometimes and stick with them. That way, he knows that you’re getting what you want - and so is he… because it means you’ll be happy.
Bonus D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Dieter’s history of relationships with men and women is very widely known, but he’s pretty good at being discreet when it comes to casual partners.
When he was first starting out in the industry, he tried to keep it more private when he was with a man, just because he didn’t want people to typecast him or for it to potentially cost him any roles or fans, but as time passed and he became more comfortable with it, he hid it less.
And when things really started to pick up for him, Dieter began to explore more things - including threesomes with a man and a woman at the same time.
Well one of them was with a couple, and Dieter liked the man a hell of a lot more than he liked the woman - and the feeling was mutual. So Dieter and the man (Alex) continued to see each other without the girlfriend knowing for about six months. And even though it was regular, and no matter how good the sex was, Dieter always felt like shit when it was over because he knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do, but he was infatuated.
The girl never found out, and Dieter finally put an end to it because Alex casually mentioned that he was going to propose to his girlfriend… and that’s a line that Dieter wasn’t about to cross. He still feels bad, though, and hasn’t been in any hurry to repeat that scenario with another couple since - even though he has had other threesomes.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
If you look up the word “experience” in the dictionary, there might as well be a picture of Dieter next to it. He’s had a ton of partners. He’s slept with a lot of different types of people - actors and actresses, crew, other celebrities, athletes … he’s seen and done his fair share of fucking throughout his career.
And it shows. He’s really good in bed, even when he’s not putting 100% into it, which he only does when he’s really into someone or something that he’s doing. (He’s always given you 100%, from the very beginning. And he doesn’t know why but he’s fucking glad he did).
He does have a reputation - and it’s really easy to find examples of what he’s like online - but those examples aren’t always the whole truth. The effort that Dieter puts in is in direct correlation to the way his partner is in bed, but not the way you might think.
If you’re overacting, Dieter does bare minimum, because he knows it’s all he has to do. If you’re genuinely responsive to him, and giving him real cues, he’s more motivated to put his skills to use, because he feels like you’ll appreciate them.
He knows enough about what he’s doing - and what other people are doing in return - to have a pretty good read on what someone wants in bed, and is very easily adaptable to give it to them - often without them even having to ask.
Also, the fact that Dieter has a lot of experience with a lot of things leads you into some really interesting scenarios … because not only does he have confidence, he’s patient about including you in them when (and if) you want. Dieter knows what works and what doesn’t, and what tends to be comfortable and worth trying. At first, it sort of makes you feel inadequate because your sex life hasn’t been too out of the ordinary, but once you understand that his experience is only going to help the two of you find what works best? You start viewing it as an asset in the relationship.
Those other partners were learning experiences for him - and even if he enjoyed them, he didn’t enjoy them enough to make them permanent… just enough to teach him a little something that he can make use of in the future.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
This might surprise you (not), but Dieter values comfort and convenience when it comes to sex for the most part. Missionary is great. Doggy is even better, because it allows him to control the pace and get some good, hard thrusts in. (It does hurt his knees after a while, though…but he hates to admit it.)
He’s also really partial to the position that the two of you were in the night before he got sick - your back to his chest, even though he usually doesn’t come from contact alone andkissing whoever he’s with on the back and shoulders isn’t exactly standard operating procedure for him.
And you on your hands and knees isn’t just good for actual sex - he loves this position for going down on you, too. It opens you up in a very different way than when you’re laying on your back, or standing in front of him - and even though he loves it when you’re hovering over him, the man mouthing his way up your inner thighs while they tremble, there’s something about getting to look at you first that drives him insane, especially since this angle means that you can’t always anticipate exactly when his mouth is going to make first contact.
One of Dieter’s favorite memories with you is the first time he took you from behind - and it was only a couple weeks after you’d started sleeping together.
You were in your bed, naked and on your stomach, and Dieter couldn’t help asking you to get on your knees, ass in the air as you balanced on your elbows. He slid a pillow under your body, giving you a little more cushion, and then moved behind you, using both hands to spread your legs. It would have been a great position for sex, but Dieter didn’t want sex, he wanted to put his mouth on you, and so he did.
He started by kissing his way up the backs of your thighs, his hands massaging the skin before his lips got to it. You didn’t stay completely silent, your quiet hums and sighs music to his ears, but when he pulled away to look at you, noticing that the insides of your thighs were slick, Dieter used one finger to touch you, sliding it into you with a practiced ease. The action made you spread your knees more, opening you up to him, and it didn’t take him long to pull his hand back, heart pounding and his body buzzing with desire. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
He nearly moaned out the words, both hands back on you and squeezing, and your agreement was quiet but sure, a nod of your head followed by verbal permission for him to keep going.
He kissed the inside of your thigh before moving higher, and the tip of his nose brushed against you before anything else did - and he felt you shudder at the contact. Good. She’s gonna fucking love this.
And you did - your entire body shaking as he used his tongue on you,
lapping at the place his finger had just been, tongue twisting to delve further into your body while his hands gripped your legs to hold you in place. Dieter hadn’t known if he could get you off from that angle before he’d started, but when you bucked your hips backward, lifting them up to give him a different approach, he knew that not only was it possible, it was going to happen.
You came on his face a few minutes later, the man’s groan at the taste of you vibrating on your damp, puffy skin, and he’d been reluctant to let you go, drinking you down until you cried out, swatting at him with one hand and telling him that it was too much.
You collapsed on the bed, rolling over onto your back, chest heaving and your legs open enough so that he could crawl up between them, kissing the skin of your stomach and chest before you grabbed his face and forced his mouth against yours, kissing him almost as deeply as he’d just kissed a different part of your body.
It might have been too much for him to continue that night, but you never said no after that when he suggested a repeat of the position, and after almost no time at all, he didn’t need to suggest it anymore - because youdid.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Dieter’s a mix. Again, it depends a lot on his partner, but overall, he tries to keep it light and fun, especially for the one night stands and the hookups that catch him by surprise. He likes to laugh, likes to let the people he’s with know that things aren’t serious and they shouldn’t treat them as such. He likes to set expectations from the very beginning, because it allows for both (or all three) parties to enjoy every second.
And that works well with you, too, because you like breaking up the serious with a little bit of levity. You like making him laugh. You like letting him know that you’re not expecting serious and focused and super meaningful moments every single time you’re in bed with him.
With you, though, Dieter does tend to get sort of quiet and a little more introspective when you’re done. He might make a joke or two, but then the two of you do talk seriously sometimes - and that caught you by surprise, especially in the beginning. Especially when he asked you to stay and told you he had no interest in kicking you out. It was a lot to think about, and honestly didn’t do you any favors when it came to keeping your expectations low, because he contradicted himself almost right from the get go in a lot of ways.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
The thing about Dieter is that he only lookslike he crawled out of a thrift store’s back room. He doesn’t smell like it and definitely doesn’t groomlike it. The hair on the top of his head might be fluffy and unkempt (though it’s the softest thing you’ve ever felt), and his beard might be patchy, but he’s always clean, and he always smells good. (The exceptions after you met being when he was sick and when he went through the middle few days of quarantine)
He keeps his body hair neatly trimmed, though maybe slightly longer than the other men that you’ve ever been with, but it’s not overwhelming, and if you asked him to or made a comment, you know that he’d change it for you.
As for the color? Unlike the hair on his head and the hair on his face, Dieter’s still all dark below the waist.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
If you asked Dieter, he’d tell you that he doesn’t like or need romance. He wants physical, in the moment connection, and that’s enough for him. It’s been enough for him in the past, and he’s got himself convinced it’s all he needs in the future. But the truth is that Dieter’s so much more intimate than he knows he is - especially when he lets his guard down.
Sexual intimacy is one thing, and that’s a connection he never skimps on. He wants to feel good - and wants to make the people he’s with feel just as good. Physical intimacy … it’s not quite as abundant, but he’s still incredible with his hands and mouth, knows how to use his body in the moment. He’s very purposeful with the way he touches people and what these touches mean.
But when it comes to being emotionally intimate, Dieter alwaysholds back. It’s hard for him to really connect with people because of the choices he’s made about the way he interacts with them, and there are cases - like with Mara - where he thought he was ready for more - for an actual honest to God emotional connection with someone that was just as ready … but he waited for her to ask him, and she never did. He couldn’t bring himself to take that leap, and it’s probably a good thing, because if she’d known how much he cared, how much he wanted her to care? It would have been yet another thing she could have used to hurt him in the end.
With you, Dieter found himself being emotionally intimate before you’d even done more than touch hands. It wasn’t the physical or sexual intimacy that led to an emotional connection - it was the emotional that made it possible to have such a good first physical encounter. He still held back with you, still didn’t let himself get overwhelmed with what he liked about you before anything physical happen - but it was different for him.
He didn’t mind spending platonic time together. He didn’t mind conversations. He didn’t even thinkabout just trying to get you into bed (even though he would have liked to, because Dieter was attracted to you even when he could only see half of your face because of the mask you wore). But one of the things that he’s most thankful for - and will actually comment on in a very public way in the future - is that he didn’t just rush into a physical relationship with you instead of taking the time to slowly build that intimacy on all levels.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Dieter’s masturbation routine is very different on set than it is at home.
At home, he’s used to being able to scratch that itch in a very specific way. He’s got a couple people that he knows he can call if he wants to get off with almost no effort or expectation, so masturbation is sort of a last resort, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t enjoy it.
On set, it happens more often, because he doesn’t usually like to sleep his way through the cast and crew. It’s happened, of course, but while working, if he can’t get away to meet people that aren’t working on the production to take to bed, he’s much likelier to take matters into his own hands and just get it done.
He prefers the real thing; there’s nothing like a warm body flush against his, or a wet mouth around him, but the end result is the same no matter the vehicle used to get there … and so Dieter makes do with whatever he has available to him.
A couple thoughts:
He doesn’t need to be comfortable to get himself off. Standing up in the shower? Takes a couple minutes. Sitting on the couch with one foot up on the coffee table? Same, except from a different angle.
Dieter doesn’t like to touch himself while high.
When he’s got a sex scene in a movie, Dieter will masturbate in front of a mirror “in character” just to watch his facial expressions so that he can recreate them while filming. So that face you see onscreen? That’s legitimately Dieter Bravo’s “I’m getting myself off” ‘O’ face.
Before Dieter’s first red carpet event, he was so nervous that he was late because he wanted to get himself off so that he was relaxed before leaving the hotel and getting into the car - but he couldn’t finish (at first).
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Being handcuffed/restrained
As discussed earlier, Dieter’s a little submissive, and likes when you take control. That equates to him really enjoying being handcuffed - or otherwise restrained. You don’t do it often because it’s not something that you were used to before you met him and got with him, but you’re more than happy to indulge Dieter by locking his wrists to the bedposts, or sitting him up and cuffing them behind his back. Once or twice, you’ve even cuffed him in front of his body so that he could drape his arms over your shoulders while you ride him … but that usually leads to him getting a little frustrated because he’s so close to being able to touch you … but still so far.
There’s only so much Dieter can take, you know?
Competence (see Locked Down Part 6)
Roleplaying based on character fic
There will probably be a longer one shot for this written in the future, but here’s a little explanation to tide you over.
Dieter doesn’t always stay up on what’s happening online, because … he just doesn’t really care. He cares what people think about his work, but just like he doesn’t watch his own stuff (aside from attending premieres and making appearances that he’s contractually obligated to do) he doesn’t look up reviews or anything like that - and he definitely doesn’t scroll Twitter or Instagram to see what people are saying. That’s what Jenna’s for, and there will be times when she finds specific things that she thinks he needs to know so that he can like them or reply to them.
But he doesn’t even know that fanfic exists until you tell him. And he doesn’t know that fanfic exists for his characters until you tell him … and show him.
And when that happens? All bets are off. He’s absolutely fascinated by the fact that people write stories about his characters … and when he realizes that there are SMUTTY ones written about characters like Gio and Billy and Devon from the medical drama and even fucking AnthonyfromHunger Strike he can’t help himself from reading them.
That leads to the two of you reading them together. And reading them together leads to you joking about the logistics of the sex acts within the stories. And joking about them leads to you testing them out … and testing them out leads to … well, you get the picture.
Dieter likes soft things
This is sort of self explanatory, but he really likes being comfortable while having sex. Masturbation while being slightly uncomfortable is one thing - and it helps him to differentiate between the scenarios - but he loves the feeling of soft materials on his skin, or pillows under his head. This is why he lives in the bathrobe both in London and elsewhere; he loves the way the material feels on his skin - and it keeps him alert. Dieter tends to sleep hot, so his sheets at home are cooling - and he often sleeps naked.
Soft things also translates to you, too. The skin of your stomach and inner thighs. The brush of a skirt or sleeve against his hand. The way you touch him with the pads of your fingers. He feels it all, and he loves it - and can’t help how much it turns him on. (There was also an Encounter the two of you had where you were in the back seat of a car on your way home from some black tie event, and you were trying to tease him by not taking one of your gloves off while you touched him … and it backfired… all over the front of his pants.)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere. However, he isn’t going to have sex somewhere that would be flat out disrespectful to other people. For example, he draws the line at sex on the actual set. (Lauren and Dustin, I am looking at you)
He likes being comfortable, though (like I mentioned) - so he prefers locations like beds and couches, or even chairs when they’re the right size.
Dieter fucked you on his kitchen table once - and only once, because the chain of events that transpired resulted in a broken table, a hole in his kitchen wall and you needing three stitches in your elbow. Neither of you regret it … but it’s not gonna happen again until some changes are made and precautions are taken.
He likes being somewhere where he feels safe - which is (was) especially true when he’s having sex while high, because he knows the kind of damage that would be done to his career when and if pictures and the story came out.
He’s horny, not stupid.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Honestly, it doesn’t take much. Dieter’s pretty much always ready for sex - but he’s also aware of the fact that it’s not always going to play out how he wants it to. Willing and able doesn’t mean that he’s going to see it through every single time, and that’s perfectly fine with him.
But he loves when you lock eyes with him and then touch him casually. He loves when you flirt. He absolutely goes wild when you make him laugh - and when you give him a hard time.
Touch stimulation is good, but he likes the fact that that you can turn him on without touching him by just being there. The competence kink that he didn’t know he had until he saw you going at it with Darren on set is something unique to you. You weren’t the first person to stand up to a director in front of him, and you weren’t even the first person that he wanted to sleep with that stood up for themselves and what they knew was right in front of him … but for whatever reason, that specific day and thinking about it was enough to really get him going, and it continues to be that way well on into the future.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Dieter’s turn offs include people wanting to roleplay actual scenes from the movies and shows he’s done. He’s had a fair amount of intimate scenes, so there’s plenty to choose from, but for the most part, what he said to Lauren was the truth: he never watches his own shit, and prefers to forget about his actual performances as soon as he’s done on set.
He also uses this as a way to figure out if people are interested in him or in the characters he plays - and weeds people out without hesitation if they’re hellbent on being with the actor. (The exception to this rule, though … is found in the ‘kinks’ section.)
He doesn’t have an issue running lines with you, though. This happens while he’s going over scripts and edits, before he shoots scenes, or deciding which projects to take or leave. Prep work is one thing, and finding ways to try new things in bed with you is always exciting for him … but someone telling him that they want to sleep with one of his characters from the get-go is a no go.
Another turn off for him? Not being spontaneous. Dieter doesn’t expect people to drop everything and do what he wants every time he asks, but he’s used to his life being highly scheduled - filming, promo, interviews, travel for auditions - and when he has downtime and can enjoy himself?
He wants it to be less structured. And sometimes that means having no plans and playing everything by ear. If you can’t accept that, then he’s not the right person - even for a quickie or a one night stand.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Like I hinted at in Locked Down, Dieter’s never going to turn down a blowjob - but that doesn’t mean that they’re always good. However … a blowjob is faster than sex. It’s easier to clean up from, and it requires very little personal connection … so Dieter enjoys them very much. He’s found that in most cases, men are much more skilled at the task, but he’d have to be hard pressed to turn one down from anyone. (Although there was one actress at an awards show that he had to step away from before he came because she was a little too eager and too rough, and if he’d stayed he just knew that there’d be a Blind Gossip post about the fact that he couldn’t keep it up … and that would have hurt his pride way too much.)
He takes a lot of pride in giving oral, too, and that’s honestly what he likes more and looks forward to when the opportunity presents itself.
That’s why he was so quick to go there with you. He knows he’s good, knows that he’s going to be able to find a way to make your body respond to his lips and tongue (and even occasionally teeth) very quickly. But that doesn’t mean that when he finds that spot or that pace with you, he’s going to make it quick. Because Dieter likes to savor the finer things in life - and this is one of them. You are one of them.
There’s honestly nothing he likes more than the feeling of your heel digging into his back or your fingers in his hair, or the sounds you make while his tongue’s curling into you - except the way you taste.
He’s had enough experience to have a very informed opinion, and to ensure that you’re going to be satisfied when he finally lifts his head - and you have absolutely no complaints. Dieter knows what he’s doing, and you’re thankful for everyone that came before you because it means that you get to reap every single benefit - hopefully for a lot longer than any of them.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Again, this depends on his mood - and his partner. Dieter doesn’t ever rush though, unless that’s the point (see ‘quickie”) of the sex in the first place.
Dieter doesn’t really like ‘rough’ sex in the traditional sense of actually pushing himself or his partner to the point of pain. He doesn’t mind you pulling his hair or scratching him - and he really likes it when you bite, but he has to be in the mood and it has to be with the right person for it to be prolonged.
When the man finds a rhythm, he finds it, and that usually works out to both of your benefit.
To be completely honest, Dieter’s never really had to seduce anyone, so it’s always just been sort of touch and go and see what works best. He prefers to pace himself. He prefers to read the situation as necessary and world from there. It’s not uncommon for him to start slow, up the pace and then finish out just a little slower, but the truth of the matter is that whatever feels good is what he’s going to do. And if you’re beneath him, urging him to move faster, or rocking your hips into him at a pace he hasn’t set? If you’re bouncing on top of him and you want it harder? He’s not going to deny you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Quickies aren’t top on his list, but Dieter’s no stranger to them, and even though there are a couple that are memorable for him, the one that stands out the most is the two of you at the Golden Globes the year he won for his role as Billy Creed.
You chose a dress that specificallygave him easy access. You’d gotten ready in adjoining hotel rooms, keeping your outfit a secret until the last minute, and Dieter hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you from the moment he first saw what you’d chosen to wear.
You were flirty with him in the car on the way from the hotel to the venue, but kept your distance - trying not to touch him in a way that would rile him up. Walking the red carpet, you were more handsy, and Dieter wasn’t surprised to find that not only did the press take pictures of him solo, they took them of you solo, too, while he was busy with a few interviews. He loved seeing you handle things in public, loved watching the way that you interacted with everyone around you, and by the time you were inside the hotel, he was beginning to feel the way that he had when you’d gone off on Darren - and then he noticed that the slit on your dress was higher than it had been outside.
He asked you about it in the lounge before you sat, and you shrugged it off, giving him a wink before you moved off to talk to someone - and to get another drink. But then, Dieter noticed that the other side of the dress was also much more open than it had been, and he realized that you were deliberately fucking with him, teasing him with your outfit when there was nothing that either of you could do about it for hours until the show was over.
Except that Dieter had been to that ceremony before, and knew that there were places to go where no one would bother you, and under the guise of showing you around since he’d been there before and you hadn’t, Dieter dragged you off into one of the rooms used by housekeeping - after slipping a large bill into someone’s hand for the privilege and the privacy - and had his way with you.
You only had minutes, and you had to be quiet, neither of you removing a single piece of clothing except to give yourselves access, but long after the night was over, both of you agreed that it was the most exciting experience the two of you had ever had.
Watching the playback of the event, you were shocked to see that when the cameras landed on you during Dieter’s nominated category and then again while he was giving his acceptance speech, you looked no worse for the wear - makeup and hair perfectly in place, dress hanging from your body in the way that it was meant to. His hair was a little less styled than it had been when you’d left the hotel, but that was par for the course… and there were a couple of blogs and fan pages that had some questions about whether or not his lower lip was a little … fuller than usual.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Dieter is more willing to take risks with his life than he is when it comes to having risky sex. He’d rather have people look down on / judge hm for his own choices than label him as someone that’s into public sex or treats his partners like it doesn’t matter if they get exposed.
But as for experimenting? There’s very little he’s unwilling to try - at least once, especially if you ask nicely - or if he knows you’re down for it - and you’re able to do it in private.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Sober, Dieter’s good for longer encounters. It’s not uncommon for him to spend a lot of time with foreplay - either performing or receiving, and while sometimes the foreplay causes him to come a little too soon for his liking, he’s definitely up for a 2nd round as soon as it’s physically possible.
And it really depends on how turned on he is as to how long he can last, as well as what his partner’s doing. He can prolong it - that’s the good thing about being an actor; he’s learned to focus on not getting off during intimate scenes (even when they’re decidedly unsexy, sometimes his body reacts), which means that he can hold himself back when he wants to make sure he doesn’t blow it right away.
His record is five times in one night without more than a short break, but that was when he was younger - and now that he’s older, and his body’s a little less youthful, it’s maybe 2-3 on a good night? But that won’t ever stop him from making you come as many times as he can without physically hurting you.
And as for how long does he last? I’d say on average, it ranges between 15 - 20 minutes. Not too fast, not too slow, and it definitely gets longer when you switch positions or take some time to slow down and savor things.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Dieter does own toys, and he knows you do, too. You’re well aware that he’d been with both women and men in the past, and even though it’s something that you talk about with him, you never pry - and that includes not asking him about the things he’s done with other partners. You know that if he wants to, he’ll tell you about the things he’s done and liked, or the things that he’d want to try with you - and he did - slowly, over the course of the time you spent together.
For example, one of the things you find in Dieter’s bathroom drawer while you’re in the hotel together is this (https://www.lelo.com/f1s-v2). It doesn’t surprise you - but the fact that he really likes using the app does.He was in the bathroom with you when you found it, and since none of your previous partners had ever used anything like it on themselves, Dieter had no problem demonstrating. He prefers the real thing, of course, but with the beginning of the pandemic keeping him isolated, he had to find somethingthat was going to be a little different every time, and the other available options in his arsenal weren’t cutting it.
Fun fact: When he left London, he told you to download the app and gave you his log in information so that when/if he wanted to use it and you were available, you could control it. That led to a bunch of really fun phone calls and FaceTime conversations in the months you were apart.
You do have a few toys of your own - and youdefinitely brought one of them with you to London, but after meeting Dieter, you didn’t use it the entire time you were stuck in the hotel. You didn’t need to.
But the one toy that both of you are interested in? The replica of Dieter that you make from the “Clone A Willy” kit you won at a bachelorette party.
You brought it up to him as a joke, thinking he wouldn’t want to have a silicone version of his own dick out there, but the man’s eyes practically lit up when he asked what was in the gift bag your brought home.
And then you read the directions to him, just because they were on the package. You also had to open the package just to see how strong the vibrator insert was. And from there, it was only natural to want to know if the tube was large enough to fit around him while he was fully hard. And I mean, Dieter needed to know if he could stay hard for four minutes while the mold mix started to solidify around him. After you let it get completely set overnight, the only logical thing to do was mix and pour the silicone … and then set it on a shelf until the 24 hour period had passed.
It was a strange thing for him to see a replica - a life size replica - of himself in your hand… and then in his own, but he had to admit that it felt like him, even though it was cold. It felt like him even though it was a little too firm. You’d made a joke while you watched him turn it over in his palms, about how now whenever someone told him to go fuck himself, he technically could, and Dieter lost it, laughing so hard that tears leaked from his eyes.
He never used it - but you did, Dieter watching the first time just to see your reaction and glowing with pride at the fact that even though you said it felt like him, the fact that it wasn’t the real thing made it less satisfying, especially with him right there. After that, he knew that whenever he was gone on a shoot or a trip, or you were filming in a location that he couldn’t make it to, it was almost like he was there… and that was enough to tide both of you over until you made it back under the same roof again.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Dieter actually isn’t too much of a tease. He likes to get down to business, and so he’s pretty straight to the point. But he has a good sense of humor, and teasing during the act is something else entirely, especially the longer you know each other.
He doesn’t tease with his body, though, and Dieter doesn’t see extended foreplay as another form of teasing; he just sees it as a build up. He won’t ever withhold sex from you, even when you’re fighting or he’s in a bad mood.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Dieter himself isn’t super loud. He moans and groans and grunts and swears, but he’s not a screamer. He’s not a yeller, and he doesn’t like it when people exaggerate the noises they make during sex because it feels false.
The first night he was with you, though, he could tell that your reactions were genuine - that you were being loud because he was making you loud, that it was a natural reaction to what the two of you were doing and not attempting to impress him.
He’s not always a talker, but there are moments - when it’s been a while, when he’s had a stressful day, when he has an overwhelming feeling of affection for someone - where he can’t seem to shut up, but the words aren’t always coherent. They’re often just the man mumbling random phrases into your ear as the two of you move, or him speaking into your chest as he kisses his way up or down your body.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Dieter’s had a lot of less than spectacular sex, but there’s only one instance that he counts as downright bad.
It was when he was younger - late 20’s, fresh off of a successful movie debut, and he’d been out on a couple dates with a woman - someone that he’d met at the premiere that was getting ready for a film debut of her own - that had gone well, which meant that it was moving toward sex. Well, long story short … the sex was bad. Not because either of them were too out of it to enjoy it, but because the girl got violentlyill in the bed - and all over Dieter - only a few minutes into things.
And it wasn’t the fact that she got sick - because Dieter understood that sometimes things happen … it was that the woman wanted to pretend like nothing had happened and keep going in the pukey bed without even pausing to clean up or remove the sheets. She saw nothing wrong with it - just wanted to fuck - and Dieter has never noped out of a situation or blocked someone’s number faster.
It’s made him very aware of the way he feels when he goes to bed with
someone - and it’s why if he feels even the littlest bit like he’s going to be sick, he won’t let things go that far, because he doesn’t want to embarrass himself. (When he was with you in the hotel right before he got sick, he didn’t feel pukey at all, just overheated and tired… maybe a little sore. He was NOT about to risk that type of humiliation with you).
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
We already know that Dieter was kind of a shock for you the first time you saw him. He’s thick - your fingers don’t wrap entirely around him, even if it’s just your thumb and middle finger, and after you’ve had your mouth on him for extended periods, your jaw sometimes aches. He’s long, too - just about 7 inches (maybe slightly more) when he’s fully hard.
There’s no curve to him - he’s perfectly straight, and you love looking at him when he’s heavy against his lower belly, or when you can see the tip of him peeking out over his fist. His balls are average size and shape, too.
Dieter prefers to wear clothes that sort of hide himself, so when you first see him in a suit / dressed up, it’s kind of a shock, especially when he reacts to the wayyou’re dressed, and can’t 100% keep himself from reacting. It’s obvious that he’s big when he’s wearing fitted jeans or tailored pants, especially when they’re a lighter, solid color.
Bonus X = X-Appeal (do they have sex appeal?)
If you ask Dieter, he doesn’t have sex appeal, he just has people that want to have sex with him because he’s Dieter Bravo and he has a reputation for giving people what they need and want. He doesn’t think he’s bad looking, but he knows that he’s not young anymore, knows that his attitude and his presented appearance are going to be a turn off for a lot of people.
But for you - and millions of other men and women all over the world?
You’d tell him he was wrong without even batting an eye.
He’s sexy in a confident way - which he presents in interviews. You sort of like the aloof attitude, like the snark. You like the way that he seems comfortable and confident in his own skin (even though you realized very quickly that it wasn’t 100% true to his actual behavior or personality).
He’s sexy to look at in a real way. He isn’t overly muscled, doesn’t spend hours on his appearance to give himself a specific look - and you like the fact that he isn’t afraid to be photographed in a pair of loose jeans and a t shirt, or a stretched out cardigan and some sandals.
Dieter’s looks, though? You think he’s only gotten better looking with age. Yes, he was always attractive with deep, soulful brown eyes and a thick head of hair, but as he got older, his face filled out - the flecks of gray that show up in his beard and hair are real, and indications of the fact that he’s not trying to hide the aging process. You think this is sexy as hell, and tell him often, because you know he needs to hear it.
He’s not lazy, but he’s also not going to spend two hours a day in the gym, and while his waist is slim, he’s got a little bit of a belly whenever he’s relaxing between projects (or on the set of Cliff Beasts, because the character really didn’t need to be in peak physical condition). He’s healthy but not toofit, and it suits him.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Dieter fucking loves sex, and he won’t hesitate to tell you that or try to initiate. He has a high sex drive, but he can go without it when necessary. He did just that during the pandemic, because he was afraid of getting sick, but the first time he slept with someone (a little over a month before leaving for London) after months of not?It made him realize the benefit of waiting - because even though it was just a random hookup in the sense that there wasn’t an actual relationship with the person, he enjoyed himself immensely.And it was different than it had been for him when he was just having endless amounts of sex (with different people or one person, in the case of his short term relationships and Mara) - which is why, by the time the two of you went to bed for the first time in the hotel, he was more than ready for another encounter … because it had been weeks of only his hand or his devices.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It depends. Sometimes, Dieter just falls asleep, especially if he’s been drinking - or has been using. Weed makes him very sleepy, especially when he smokes a lot at once. (He didn’t in London, because most of the times he smoked it was social, and not by himself), and so if you have sex while he’s high on weed, he’s out only a few minutes later and it’s pretty much a given.
But other drugs and alcohol mixed don’t tend to have the same effect, instead helping him to stay awake, even though being awake doesn’t always mean talking to the person (people) he’s in bed with - it might mean going back to the party, or going out in the first place.
But sober Dieter? That all depends on how worn out he is. He likes laying next to you and talking. He likes watching you fall asleep, feeling you relax next to him or in his arms. He also likes knowing that if he does fall asleep quickly, you won’t hold it against him - you won’t force conversation or try to force him to stay awake.
Dieter knows that after sex is a time for people to be open with each other, and so he’s usually pretty careful about what he admits in whatever conversation he has before he ends up drifting off, no matter how long it happens to take.
You didn’t rush back into Joel’s place or up the stairs. Instead, he followed you through the front door, holding the screen open for you before he carefully closed and locked both doors once you’d passed through. “You know what I just realized?” He was behind you again, one hand settled low on your back. “I never gave you a tour of my place. I know you’ve seen down here, but -”
“You can show me now?” Turning to face him, you tried to steady your breathing. “Bedroom’s upstairs, right?” He failed to conceal his smile and nodded in agreement, jerking his chin in the direction of the stairs.
“I’ll follow you.” You took the first few steps quickly, hand resting on the banister. They creaked beneath your feet, the sound slightly louder as Joel’s weight joined, but you only made it to the first landing before he stopped you, hands on your hips as he spun you to face him. “Wait a minute…” He mumbled the words, crowding your back into the corner and stepping closer. “I feel like I should be…” Should be what?
You waited only moments for your answer, Joel’s lips meeting yours with some force. Yeah, you should be doing this. We should be doing this. Fisting the material of his shirt and pulling him flush against you, you changed the angle of your kiss, lips dragging against Joel’s as you both got lost in it. He tasted faintly like beer - and as the kiss deepened, you tasted mint, too, almost like he’d - “You picking mint leaves from your yard again, Joel?” Laughing softly, you angled your head back, looking up at him. “Tastes like it.”
“Maybe.” He nipped at your lower lip and then stepped away, shoulders rising as he took a long breath. “Habit I picked up years ago, before everything happened.” Learning a lot about you tonight, Joel. Rolling your shoulders back, you moved out of the corner and past him, continuing up the steps. “Workshop’s right in front of you. I spend a lot of time there.” One hand on the door frame, you peeked inside, eyes moving over the table, which was littered with woodworking tools and curls of wood scraps along with paints, glue and books. Joel stood behind you again, casually winding an arm around your waist as he leaned in. “Thinkin’ about trying to making a guitar, too. I know there’s plenty of em, but it’ll keep me busy.”
“You should.” Turning your head to the right, you nodded. “I bet people here would love that.” His arm tightened around you.
“I’m teachin’ Ellie to play. She’s pickin’ it up fast.”Good. Gives her something to look forward to. “Main bathroom’s next. But there’s a smaller one in my room. You can use either, but -”
“No hot water.” With a sigh, you backed away from the doorway, Joel letting you go after a few more seconds. “I remember.” You didn’t know if it was something that he was denying himself as a reminder of the situation that you all were still in, or if the man had simply just not gotten around to fixing the water heater in his basement. But the fact of the matter was that all of the water streaming from the faucets in Joel’s house were ice cold - and it had been since he and Ellie moved in. “You should fix that, Joel. You’re going to want hot water in the winter, and it’s coming.”
“I know. You ain’t the first to tell me that.” He cleared his throat. “Bedroom’s right here.” He didn’t touch you as you paused in the doorway, eyes immediately going to the shelf beneath the window across the small entryway, two framed photos resting on the top of it. Wonder what those are. You wanted to ask, but didn’t - instead crossing the threshold and finding the bathroom and a walk-in closet to the right, and another entryway leading to the actual bedroomto the left.
It was cozy - shelves with books and vinyls hanging on the wall, a large rug covering a lot of the floor. There was even an overstuffed armchair in the corner beneath the partially opened window, a small table with a coffee mug resting next to it. This is his. All of this is here because he wanted it to be.
You understood what taking the first step into it meant, and so after giving yourself a few seconds to prepare, you did just that, entering the man’s private space and eyeing the bed. It was large - only one side of it distubed despite the fact that there were matching nightstands and lamps on either side, the wood made of the same dark color as the bed frame and headboard. “Bed’s definitely bigger than mine, Joel.” Grinning, you looked back in his direction. “Looks more comfortable, too.” You’d expected that he would have followed close behind as you walked into his room, but Joel was hovering in the doorway, both arms crossed over his chest and a worried look on his face. What’s wrong? “Joel?”
“Weird seein’ someone else in here.” Drawing his lip back and between his teeth, Joel closed his eyes. “Weird havin’ a house and a nice bedroom and lights, and -”
“Hey.” Closing the distance between the two of you, you shook your head back and forth. “You’ll get used to it. If this is too much, we can -”
“No.” The tone he used was final, the man’s eyes opening to reveal that the deep brown was blazing, nearly glowing in the light from overhead. “No, I just needed a minute. I like seeing you here.” Taking it slow was important - and you were in no rush. And he doesn’t need to be either. “I should…” He frowned stepping closer and lowering his hands. “I gotta warn you about somethin’.” What?Suddenly worried, you took a step back, waiting. “After … after me an’ Ellie left Jackson last year? When she saved me? She saved me from bleedin’ to death.” You’d known it was bad, but not the exact cause of his injury, but his admission still confused you. “I… I got impaled.”
He lifted the bottom of his shirt as he spoke and your eyes were drawn to the movement, a loud gasp falling from your mouth when you saw the remnants of his injury. A long scar - at least the length of your hand - had healed poorly, slicing diagonally up the right side of his abdomen. And that’s just what I can see. He was wearing jeans, and though they were low on his waist, the end of the scar was hidden by the waistband. “Jesus, Joel. Ellie took care of this?”
“Yep.” Your eyes moved over his skin - the golden tan of the rest of his body, the coarse, dark that that was scattered over the center of his belly and then down, also disappearing beneath his pants. “I shoulda died. But I’m too damn stubborn. Don’t hurt anymore, but I didn’t want you to …” Cautiously, you reached out, letting the tips of your fingers trail over the raised, puckered skin. Ellie had done the best she could - and you assumed that since he said he’d been impaled, the man’s back didn’t look much better - but there was still evidence of her clumsy stitching, of the fear the little girl had likely felt as she literally held the man’s life in her hands. “Didn’t want it to surprise you.”
“Thank you for the warning.” Raising your eyes to look back at his face, you didn’t pull your hand away. “But you didn’t need to give me one. I guess… I never realized how bad it was when she took care of you.” He had to have lost so much blood. And then … “I know you said it doesn’t hurt, Joel, but if I’m ever touching you, and it’s … just tell me, alright? I don’t want to cause you any pain.”
He let go of the shirt then, the material sliding back down his body and gathering atop your hand. Joel lifted both of his, using them to cradle your chin, his eyes locked with yours. “You won’t.” His thumbs swept over your jaw - gently - and you flattened your hand against his body, palm pressed against the scar beneath it. “Also got somethin’ else to tell you, if that’s alright.”
“Of course.” You closed your eyes as he inched closer, the man’s lips barely touching yours before he pulled away and then returned full force, parting them enough so that you could feel the way his tongue teased along the seam of yours, Joel’s quiet grunt coming with a warm exhale. His grip changed, one hand sliding around to the back of your neck, the other hand settling on your shoulder. “Fuck, Joel. I wan-”
“Remember when I mentioned a while back, over at Tommy’s that Sarah was more than enough for me to handle when she was a kid? That I knew at 26 that I didn’t want another onea her?” He was breathing hard as he spoke, the man’s lips next to your ear. You remembered his words - the conversation coming up when Ellie asked if Tommy and Maria wanted to have kids of their own, or if a lot of people had them in Jackson. And he brought up Sarah on his own. He joked about it, even in passing. That had shocked you, especially with what you’d known about Sarah’s loss and what came after it, but you weren’t surprised that he stillfelt the same way, especially since he’d formed such a bond with another girl like his daughter in Ellie. “I wasn’t just sayin’ that because I wanted to wait ‘til found the right girl, I was serious.”
“What?” You’d closed your eyes, leaning into his chest as Joel held you, but when he said your name, asking you to look up and at him, you did it immediately.
“I don’t know if you remember anything about college basketball, but…” Joel wet his lips. “Fuck, I haven’t told anyone this in years.” Basketball? What? “Used to be this thing called March Madness, it was a bunch of games in the middle of the month that determined who won the -”
“Joel.” You rolled your eyes. “I went to Illinois. We were in the Big Ten. I am aware of college sports.” I haven’t thought of this in forever either, how the fuck did I remember that? He grinned at you, mouthing the word “ok” under his breath. “But what does basketball have to -”
“Tommy an’ me liked college sports. Football. Basketball. Even watched some soccer because of my daughter. But we loved basketball.” The hand on your shoulder moved down, the man stroking slowly over your back. “Sarah’s mom was gone already, had been for a couple years, and as much as I loved bein’ her dad, it was exhausting. Worked a full time job, did construction on the side, raised my little girl. Had help from Tommy and my parents, but …”
“But it was hard.” He nodded, still focused on you. “And that doesn’t even take dating into account, either, which I’m sure you were doing, because -”
“I was.” He looked up at the ceiling and then back down at you. “And I was fuckin’ terrified that I’d get someone pregnant again by accident, so one year, just a couple before the world fuckin’ went to shit, I…” He laughed. “Sounds funny sayin’ it now, but … I did what a bunch of other guys did and I scheduled a vasectomy for the day before the tournament started so I could stay home an’ recover during the first round instead of going to work and missing it.”
You couldn’t help it - the sound of your laughter burst from your mouth at his admission, but even as you reacted, you were running through the meaning behind it in your mind. It means he’s safe. If means that even if my device isn’t good, that we wouldn’t have to worry. It means … “Did your team win, Joel?” He groaned, dropping his head toward your shoulder briefly. “Did you watch them from your couch with a bag of frozen peas on your -”
“Fuck you. No, they didn’t.” He was smiling, though, bringing his gaze back to yours. “And my parents were pissed, even though they sorta understood. Always told me that I’d regret takin’ away the chance to give Sarah a little brother or sister, but after everything happened? I’m glad I did it. This world isn’t a good place for any kid. I wouldn’t wish gettin’ pregnant now on anyone, and I know damn well I’d be half crazy trying to protect somethin’ that was my own flesh and blood.”
You knew it to be true, because of the things that Ellie and Joel had revealed about their cross country trip, and what Tommy had said about his time with Joel before Wyoming. You’d seen firsthand how fiercely they cared for each other, how much Joel loved his brother, and you didn’t know if you wanted to imagine the way he’d be trying to protect a child of his own. “You did what you thought was best for you at the time. And look… no one could have predicted this, but you’re right. People need to repopulate, but at the same time… with as much as people were fucking each other at every opportunity at the beginning of all of this, and how chaotic everything was? It scares me to think about how many -”
“Right.” Joel bit down on the corner of his lower lip. “But I’m not tryin’ to drag all this shit up right now, I was just letting you know that I’m… about as safe as it gets when it comes to -” It was your turn to kiss him in the middle of a sentence, lips sealing over his and preventing him from finishing his story. His grip on the back of your neck changed - tightening further, the man’s fingertips digging into your skin You returned the favor by biting down on his lip, the edges of your teeth tugging it out as you pulled away, despite the fact that you were careful not to curl your fingers against his stomach the way you wanted to. “That mean you’re alright with -”
“More than alright.” You kissed him again, eyes closed. “Thank you for telling me that. It would have been just as easy to warn me and then pull -”
“Told you. I’m tryin’ not to be an asshole with you.” His thumb swiped over the nape of your neck slowly, Joel’s voice low. “And if I can be completely honest right now?” He leaned closer, his beard lightly scraping over the soft skin of your cheek. “I ain’t gonna last long enough to give you much of a warning the first time.” Your knees went weak at his words, an involuntary gasp your only other reaction, but Joel was quick to act, steadying you with both hands.
“Well that is fucking honest.” When you recovered, your words were spoken breathlessly, the hand on his abdomen pushing to put space between you. “And I appreciate it.” He can’t say things like that. No man had ever spoken to you with such candor, and the fact that it was coming from Joelof all people was more than you’d ever hoped for. Get it together. Keep… keep going.
You’d dressed casually for the night - a pair of jeans and boots, a loose t-shirt that was clean but well worn, the neck a slightly stretched out V - and as you spoke, you used both hands to rid yourself of your top, letting it drop to the floor. His eyes were glued to your bared skin, the man’s gaze moving over your chest and then down before rising to settle at the center of your body, a slight tremble the only other indication of his response. “One of us has to start this, right?”
You gave him another second to look and then dropped to one knee, unlacing your boot and removing it before switching to the other, and by the time you stood back up, Joel was undoing his belt, the sound of metal on metal filling your ears. “You started but we’re both gonna finish.”
Joel’s belt joined your shirt on the floor, and when you reached out, hands closing around the fabric of his shirt - a long sleeved one with both sleeves pushed back to his elbows - he didn’t stop you, instead raising both arms over his head to ease the removal. You took your time with your assessment of Joel’s body - fit but not bulky, the man’s broad chest and shoulders finally on full display. There were other scars on his skin - smaller ones that were healed to a pale silver, dark ones that you figured had been inflicted early on into the outbreak or even before, healing under harsh conditions or the bright Texas sun. He’s fucking perfect.
You bit back the words, not wanting to say them and scare him off, but you couldn’t keep from stepping closer to the man again, giving him a smile before you reached out and ran your fingers down the center of his chest. “It’s nice to finally see you, Joel.” Stroking over his skin until you reached the waistband of his pants, you steadied yourself with a long, deep breath. “Can I -”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, reaching out and setting both hands on your hips, the man’s thumbs arcing over your abdomen. It was a light touch but grounding, Joel keeping you there in the moment with him as your fingers worked the button of his jeans open and his zipper down.
Aside from the sounds of your breathing, the room was totally silent - the wind lifting the curtains covering the windows just enough to move cool air over your skin. There was a rustling noise as he stepped out of his jeans, using one foot to kick them off to the side, and then Joel was wearing only underwear - a pair of boxer briefs in a faded gray, the material clinging to his thighs. Continuing the downward movement of your hand, you felt him jerk slightly as your fingers made contact with the front of the cotton - and what was beneath it. I want to see. I want to touch him.
He stopped you, though, just as your fingertips moved to part the slit and slide inside, Joel’s use of your name low but commanding. “Not yet. You’re still wearin’ too much.” Stopping immediately, you curled your fingers inward, raising your eyes to his face. “Let’s get these off, yeah?” He let go of you, Joel using two fingers to unbutton your pants, but then instead of sticking with just the one, both hands began to work the denim down, thumbs hooked over the waistband and moving as he helped you rid yourself of the clothing. Joel could have taken your underwear with it, but chose not to - and by the time you were repeating his move of kicking the pants to the side, your heart was racing, wondering what he thought of seeing so much of you.
You heard it all - the sharp intake of breath as his eyes raked over your skin, the murmur of your name as his hand came back up to rest on your hip, the audible click of the man’s hard swallow when his eyes met yours again. “Not gonna say anything?” Almost unrecognizable, your voice was quiet, nervous even, but you didn’t try to hide the emotion in it. He needs to hear it. “You -”
“Oh, I’ve got a lot to say, I just… can’t.” He tugged you toward him, lowering his head so that he could mouth at the top of your shoulder. “Can’t right now.” The drag of his beard over your exposed skin made you whine, both arms winding around his body as you urged him to press himself against you. Don’t tell me then, just show me. Like you… He bit you unexpectedly, the man’s teeth latching onto the skin at the base of your throat before he let go, followed by the press of his lips - which lingered.
You rubbed his back and nuzzled your face against the side of his, eyes closed, and for the first time in months, stopped thinking about anything but what was happening in the moment. Your entire mind was filled with Joel - the way he smelled and tasted, the way his skin felt beneath your palms, the firm press of him against your belly, the way you could feel your body reacting to his touch and presence, heat gathering in the pit of your stomach and lower, the soft material covering your lower body providing the tiniest bit of friction as you shifted against him. “Joel, I -” Crying out at another bite, you jerked forward, grip tightening for a few seconds before you released him, both hands traveling up the broad expanse of his back to tangle in the unruly locks at the back of his neck. “Kiss me, please. I just -”
It was almost like he’d been waiting for the invitation, Joel raising his head faster than you thought he would to meet your waiting mouth. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue parting your pliant lips with ease in the same moment you realized he was stepping forward and urging you back, ever closer to the bed. Yes. Yes, that’s… I want that. He held you close, the hand on your hip sliding around to your back and down, fingers disappearing beneath the waistband of your underwear and curving to match the shape of your body, Joel grabbing a handful of you as he rocked his hips against yours. Fuck.
You wanted to devour him - would have gladly spent hours standing up and kissing the man, but the presence of the bed reminded you that it didn’t need to stop with kisses that night. It wouldn’t stop with touching - t was going to stop exactly when and how the two of you wanted it to. You let out a long, shuddering breath when you finally pulled back to breathe, and were happy to see that Joel’s eyes were wide, so dark that you almost couldn’t tell where the pupil ended and the iris began, both of them filled with need. “I like it when you look at me like that.” It slipped out, but that didn’t mean that you meant it any less, and he reacted almost immediately, spinning the two of you around so that his back was to the bed and you were facing it.
He sat, keeping his hands on you, and you heard something - likely his knee - crack as he moved, spreading his legs to give you a chance to stand closer. You were unable to keep the smile off of your lips at the sound, though you also caught the roll of Joel’s eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I know, I’m an old man, and -” Reaching for him, you pushed the fingers of one hand through his hair, head shaking back and forth.
“Being old means being alive, Joel. Being here.” Moving as you spoke, you reached around and unhooked your bra, shrugging the straps down over your arms and then pulling it completely off. “That’s a good thing.” You wanted to know what it felt like to have the man undress you - those long, thick fingers sliding beneath straps and elastic, palms gliding up your sides and down your legs, but you had a feeling that there’d be plenty of opportunities for that later - and in that moment, all you wanted to do was show him all of you. “I’m right here. What do you -”
“Tell me if I’m bein’ too rough.” His voice like gravel, Joel didn’t look into your eyes as he spoke, both of them focused on your chest instead. “You gotta tell me, because -”
“I will.” Soothing him, you continued to stroke the man’s hair, watching as he leaned in and let the ridge of his nose nudge against the swell of your breast before he kissed between them, head turned slightly to one side. “You don’t need to worry about that.” The reassurance was all he needed, and suddenly Joel was a different man, large hands roaming over your torso, mouth leaving wet trails over the entirety of your chest as he moved between breasts.
He hummed in appreciation as he mouthed at your nipples, flicking his tongue out and over them before drawing them between his lips and sucking, the sensation unexpected but entirely pleasant. Joel’s beard only added to the moment - the gentle scrape of it over both damp and dry skin making it impossible for you to concentrate on any one thing. But I haven’t touched him yet. That’s not fair, it… Crying out as he gripped your thighs from behind, you pulled on his hair, Joel growling at the sudden pain and backing off. “C’mere.” You didn’t know what he meant at first, but then you felt him tugging on your legs, urging you closer to the bed until you could raise one, kneeling on the edge of the mattress.
“Gonna get comfortable, hmm?” He squeezed again, nodding with his face buried between your breasts, but when you pushed on his shoulders and urged him to lay back, he did so without questioning you. Ok, now what? It only took you seconds to decide, bringing your other knee up so that you were straddling one leg, your weight balanced on the bed - and above him. Bracing yourself with a hand on each of his arms, you leaned forward, taking a deep breath. “Then get real comfortable, Joel.”
You kissed your way up his neck and over his cheek, Joel lazily stroking along the backs of your thighs while you moved, and when you made it back to his lips, the kiss was messy,open-mouthed and more tongue than anything else. You didn’t care, though, losing yourself in the way it felt to finally have his hands on you, to feel him beneath you and to hear the sounds he made in unison with yours.
But when he raised his thigh enough to apply pressure between your legs, you outright moaned, Joel swallowing the sound at the same time he slipped one hand to the inside of your thigh, his knuckle dragging along the soaked material of the only scrap of cotton that you still wore. Oh, he fucking … You moaned again as you rocked your hips forward, seeking more friction and Joel smiled against your lips, adding a second finger to the first, though he didn’t try to push them intoyou.Rusty my ass. We haven’t even done anything yet and this is already better than…
You could feel him, hard against the outside of your leg, and without giving him a chance to react, you reached down, running your palm over everything you could touch and feeling the man’s muscles seize while you did it, his hips lifting off of the bed enough to push against your hand. “Please.” It was quiet, but you heard it, Joel’s request one that you never would have expected simply from looking at him, and so you obliged, parting the fabric with your fingertips and then slipping your hand into the open space, the edges of your nails making first contact. He grunted out your name when your fingers first wrapped around him, and then again when you freed him, the sound hitting your ear and going straight to your belly. “Oh, fuck.”
Taking that as a good sign, you tentatively stroked him, only glancing down a few seconds later to get your first glimpse of what you held. He curved slightly in your hand, the tip flushed, and you could feel that he was relatively thick - hot and firm in your hand, though his skin was soft. You wanted to taste him - wanted to shift down his body and take his length into your mouth, wanted to know what kinds of sounds he’d make at that, but you were frozen in place when he did push the material of your underwear to the side, sliding one roughened fingertip against your bare skin.
It was your turn to cry out, eyes snapping back to Joel’s face only to find that he was staring at you, his lips twisted upward into a half-smile that was mostly a smirk. “Fuck you, Joel,” you forced out the words as you moved your hand again, gliding from base to tip and back in one smooth stroke, the motion of your wrist as measured as it could be with him still touching you. “You… fucking…” Grunting quietly, you screwed your eyes shut as he lowered his leg back onto the bed, giving his finger more room to move. “Oh Goddammit.”
“I can keep touchin’ you,” he started, the words forcing your attention back onto his face. “Get you off that way, because I think you want me to.” I do. Very much. “Or we can take the resta these clothes off and -”
“Yes. That.” You hated how desperate you sounded, but you wanted Joel - all of him - and wanted him to know it. “I want -” He removed his hands from you and then used both of them to shift you off to the side, both knees moving against the bedspread as you found your balance. Joel stood abruptly, and though you tried to force yourself to look away, you couldn’t - watching as he pulled the gray material off, the man using one large hand to fist himself as he stood in front of you. Perfect height, he’s at the -
“Don’t you look at me like that.” One brow raised, Joel stepped closer, hand lazily moving. That’s the hand he used on me, which means that it’s wet because of … Eyes going wide at the realization, you parted your lips, waiting. “Take those off.” You did as he asked, scooting back on the bed and sitting back on your elbows before lifting your hips. When you were bared to him, you expected Joel to climb back into the bed, but instead he just stared down at you, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. “Wanted this for months.” He exhaled, blinking a few times. “Tried to tell myself I couldn’t have you, because -”
“You can have me, Joel.” You do have me. “I’m right here.” I’m not going anywhere. He climbed back into the bed then, letting go of himself and using both arms for support as he hovered over you. He didn’t kiss his way up your body, instead opting for taking a straight path to your mouth, one hand slipping between the back of your head and the blanket, fingers curling into your hair. It was a different kind of kiss - an urgent one, almost as though Joel was trying to use it to tell you something. “Let me show you how much I want you.”
If that was what he was trying to show you with the kiss, he was doing a good job of it. It didn’t fully distract you, though, from the way his hips rocked into yours, the man’s length sliding against your slick skin and leaving a damp trail in its wake, or from the way the skin of his lower back felt under your hands, fingertips skating over the poorly healed wound there before dropping lower. He was solid in your hands - present in a way that you knew had more to do with his overall personality than anything else, and in that moment - right before he eased off and separated his mouth from yours - you realized that everything you’d done to try and protect yourself since September 26, 2013 was at risk because of Joel’s arrival in Jackson. Twenty years, you thought as he hovered over you, eyes scanning your features. Twenty years and it all goes to shit because of a guy from Texas and … You lifted one hand, stroking along his brow as you drew your lower lip back and between your teeth. And that’s fine with me. “You ready?”
He was just as affected as you, though he was hiding it better - but you still nodded, taking a deep breath. As you widened the spread of your legs, Joel repositioned himself above you, the hand that had been in your hair used to lift his upper body while the other one snaked between you, once again wrapping around himself as he aligned with your entrance. You were ready - giving him a tiny nod, and when you felt him notch against you, you moved first, rocking your hips upward and then bending one knee for leverage.
He reacted almost immediately, hips thrusting forward enough to bury himself in your warmth. There was a stretch and a small pinch of pain as you adjusted to the sudden fullness, but it felt good, and you gave Joel another nod of approval to let him know. Oh, fuck that’s… great. You couldn’t speak, breath caught in your throat, but as soon as the man started to move, that changed, each inhale shallow, your breath leaving your body just as quickly.
The pace he set was steady, the snap of his hips against yours audible in the quiet bedroom. Joel’s mouth was in front of your ear, the man alternating between groaning and sighing, and even though you hoped that you’d be lucky enough to hear the same sounds well into the future, you filed them away, just in case. Arching your back to press your chest against his, you repositioned your hips as he pulled away. When Joel’s thrust met your body the next time, it was at a different angle, both of your hands gripping his back without delay - and then you felt it, the telltale stuttering of his hips, Joel’s quiet vocalizations growing louder, followed by a flood of warmth between your legs, the man dropping his face against the pillow to muffle the sound of his cry. Wait, did he just …
You didn’t let go until he moved again, the man pulling off - and out - of you without speaking another word, flopping onto his back and covering his eyes with one arm. “Fucking bullshit.” What?His words caught you off guard, the man’s lip curling up and into a snarl. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t…” He’s mad at himself. He’s mad because it wasn’t… Rolling onto your side to face him, you wet your lips, unsure of what to say. “Like a fuckin’ teenager. Who -”
“Joel.” Clearing your throat, you reached for him, letting your hand rest at the center of his chest. “Joel, it’s fine.” It was - you were surprised that he’d come so quickly, but he had warned you, and if you were being truthful, you were sort of proud that it had only taken him minutes to finish, so lost in your bodies moving together that he hadn’t been able to contain himself. “Joel, I mean it.” You moved without thinking, leaning over to press your lips against the scar on his shoulder, running your fingers over it after you’d moved away. Next was the place on the right side of his chest, a long and twisting one that required two points of contact from your mouth to really drive home the point.
“What’re you -” He pushed up onto his elbows as you backed away, eyes scanning his body. Stomach. Ribs. You moved quickly down the bed and tilted your head to the side to angle it in between his hand and body, lips landing on the reminder of what looked like some sort of knife wound. “That ain’t -” You ignored him, eyes moving over to the thin lines that traveled up the length of one forearm. Those.Lightly tracing them with one finger, you followed that with multiple kisses, willing yourself not to cry. Old means alive. “Why are you -”
“I don’t care if it’s five minutes or ten or fifteen, Joel.” You leaned over, not hesitating before you kissed the length of the scar on his abdomen, lingering on the thickest part of it as you squeezed your eyes shut. “I don’t care if you finish on me or in me or before I even touch you.” Returning to your position next to him, you watched as Joel’s head turned, the man facing you. “Things happen. And you have no reason to be upset with yourself because that only lasted for a few -”
“But you didn’t f-” Rolling your eyes you finally leaned over and got closer to his face, puckering your lips and kissing the final scar you’d chosen - the one on the bridge of his nose.
“Then you owe me two next time.” Raising your head enough to look down at Joel, you tilted your head to one side, resting your ear against your bare shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that, right?” He looked like he wanted to argue but instead just rolled his eyes, sighing. “And if you really wanted to, we could lay here and rest for a few minutes before we give it another go.”
“Alright.” He agreed almost immediately, one hand positioned at the center of his chest as he stared at the ceiling. “I’ll prove to you that I know what -”
“No.” Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you turned at the waist to look over your shoulder at Joel. “If you’re just trying to prove something, I don’t want it.” That was the truth - you wanted Joel to want to get back into bed with you because he wanted to, not because he was trying to prove that he had stamina. “And I have to admit,” you continued as you stood, mindful of the fact that you were still completely nude as you headed for the bathroom. “The fact that you got off so fast is a pretty good boost to my ego.”
He snorted in reply and you were happy to hear it, the small noise proof that Joel’s mood wasn’t completely ruined. It’ll be fine. When the door shut behind you, you flipped the light on and stared into the mirror, thinking. Everything up until Joel’s disappointment had been perfect - the man doing exactly what he’d promised by showing you that he was into you, the way he’d treated every inch of your body that he’d touched as if it were sacred, the trust he’d given you to touch him and then later to kiss the memories of his painful past like you’d been doing it for years instead of for the first time.
But you understood why he’d been upset, even if you didn’t share the belief that he needed to be. A few more minutes of hip thrusts - some light pressure from your hands or his, extra seconds of him grunting into your ear; you wouldn’t have had any issues getting off, too. There was nothing wrong with Joel’s technique; it had simply been too little time to let your body relax to the extent that it needed to.
Wincing as you swiped the cold cloth between your legs to clean yourself up, you finished what you needed to do and then rinsed the rag, folding it neatly on the bathroom counter. Alright I can’t just walk back out there naked, so… The only thing available was a threadbare towel, and so you wrapped it around your body, making a mental note to bring him some of the unused ones that you’d had stashed in your apartment for years as replacements.
Joel was standing when you reentered the room, his long legs covered in a pair of drawstring pants, a t-shirt held in his hands. “Thought we were going to have another -”
“Habit.” He looked over his shoulder at you, lips curving upward into a tight smile. “Don’t like bein’ naked. Somethin’ happens, I’d rather have some clothes on than none.” It was fair - a good point, even, and you knew that over time he’d likely relax that mentality, but it wasn’t your place to question it, especially in his house. And I slept with boots next to my bed and a bag packed for years, so I can’t blame him. “I got a pair of pants out for you, too. And you can use onea my shirts if you want, that way yours stays clean.”
Thanking him, you quickly dressed, taking him up on his offer for a shirt, but not bothering with your bra or underwear. You kept your eyes on the way Joel’s muscles flexed when he lifted both arms to pull the shirt on, the material catching on his head for a few moments before it came free. “I’m going to get that drink now, do you want anything?”
“I’m comin’ with you.” He followed you toward the door, but before you stepped through it, you felt Joel’s fingers close around your wrist, halting your movement. “Wait.” You turned at the sound of his voice, staring into his eyes. “Are you … sure that you’re not -”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Joel. Definitely not about something like that.” Sighing, you rose onto your toes, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Think of it as a challenge.” You bit your lip. “Every time, we try for a little longer until -”
“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t said that.” He squeezed your wrist once more and then let go, urging you forward with a hand pressed against your back. “When the sun’s coming up and we still haven’t gone to sleep.” No, I won’t.
You made your way back downstairs and into the kitchen, Joel digging through the refrigerator for a few seconds and asking if you wanted water or iced tea. Even though it was late, you both opted for tea, and while Joel poured it into cups, you hopped onto the island at the center of the room, heels knocking against the wooden cupboard doors. “I wish my kitchen was this open.” You spoke only when he handed you your cup, the man turning around to face you and leaning against the countertop next to your hip. “You have so much counter space and storage. And the light? Would be perfect in the daytime.”
“Tommy told me this place has been empty for years.” He swallowed a mouthful of tea, eyes on you. “You coulda moved in.”
“I like the privacy where I’m at.” Shrugging, you drank, too. “And I don’t need something like this, since it’s just me, but if you don’t have me over to cook something for you sometime, I’m going to be really upset.” He laughed, shifting his weight and leaning closer. “So…. Ellie seemed … excited that I was here tonight?” You lowered your cup, holding onto it with both hands and letting the bottom rest on one thigh. “What did you tell her?”
He was quiet for a few seconds but then laughed, swearing under his breath. Weird.“She was excited. She likes you. An’ I think she likes the idea of me an’ you, too.” You liked the sound of that - probably too much, but didn’t want to get too far ahead of yourself. “And I told her that I invited someone over for the night because I wanted to spend some time with ‘em.” But did you tell her who?She’d seemed a little shocked when she saw you, but he was right - she hadn’t seemed upset or annoyed, instead immediately teasing you. Hmm.“Didn’t tell her who, though. Told her to mind her own damn business, but she refused to leave ‘til you got here.”
“You’ve got a 16 year old screening your company, Joel?” He snorted, turning the sound into a cough. “I won’t tell anyone, but I mean that kind of thing might get you -”
“Think she was more makin’ surea who it wasn’t, you know?” He set his cup down and then reached over to take yours, too. “She knows about Penny.” The whole town does. “That little girl gives me more grief about shit than anyone else I know, so I guess I’m not really surprised, but still.”
“Well she left and went to Tommy and Maria’s, so I guess I got the Ellie stamp of approval, hmm?” Glancing down, you realized that you’d begun absently tracing your fingers over the back of his hand, his tanned skin much darker than the marbled surface beneath it. “I’m not going to make a big deal about this, Joel. Won’t tell people about you in the bar or the grocery store. That’s not -”
“Well if you do tell people about us?” He moved closer, the man’s breath warm on your skin as he closed the distance between you. “I’d really appreciate it if you tell ‘em all about what I’m gonna do with you when we go back upstairs and not -” Fuck.You didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence and so you cut him off with a hard kiss, nearly moaning into his mouth. He crushed his lips against yours, flipping the hand on the counter over to cover yours, and then it was his turn to step in front of you and between your legs, Joel unwilling to break the kiss.
It happened automatically - your legs winding around his waist as you scooted closer to the edge of the counter, and by the time he’d coaxed your lips apart with his tongue, there was no space between your upper bodies. He’d pulled his hand free, sliding both of them beneath the back of the shirt you wore to press his fingers into your skin and you were encircling his neck with both arms, eyes closed as you kissed him back. “You’re making it hard, Joel Miller.” Mumbling the words into the patchy hair of his beard when you both took a break to catch your breath, you didn’t pull away.
“Makin’ what hard?” It was a gamble and you knew it, but if there was ever a moment to take a risk, it was the opportunity to be honest with Joel - and so you did.
“Not getting ahead of myself when it comes to whatever this is and what I’d like it to be.” You wet your lips. “You said you have a bunch of shit to work through, and that’s fine. I get it. But you can’t just tell me that you’re going to try with me, and that you want to know me, and that you want people to know that you and I have -”
“What do you want outta this?” He backed off, gesturing between the two of you. “Most people just want -”
“I’m not most people.” You narrowed your eyes. “And for right now? Knowing that this can continue is about all I can hope for.” You looked away from him, letting your eyes wander around the kitchen for a few seconds while you thought. “I like being around you. And you said it yourself - that kiss the other night? The first one? It would have happened eventually, which means that tonight would have happened at some point, too. Because we both -”
“Wanted it.” He uttered the words at the same time you did, nodding his head. “Yeah. We did.” Joel said your name, stepping back between your legs and setting his hands on either side of your thighs, staring at you. “I’m not the guy that’s gonna fuck around on someone. End of the world or no, if I’m gettin’ to know you, that’s it.”You saw his jaw tic, the lines between his brows deepening. “You’reit.”
You couldn’t believe his words - that Joel was outright admitting that he wanted you and no one else, that getting to know you and sleeping with you would erase the time he spent with other women entirely. Is this really happening? “Ok.” You agreed, hearing the tremble in your voice. “Ok, Joel.” You didn’t know what was driving him to the admission - the talk of Tess from earlier, the things he’d wished that he’d had the opportunity to say to her or to Sarah or to any of the other people he’d known and lost, or just the fact that Joel was beginning to understand what Jackson meant,but you weren’t going to question it. Not now, anyway. “We should…” Closing your eyes briefly, you rolled your neck. “We should go back upstairs. It’s late.” The floor creaked as he shifted his feet, but Joel didn’t step away from you even when you opened your eyes and found his. “And you owe me a couple of -”
He pulled you off of the counter and then led you back down the hallway and to the stairs, his hands never leaving your body as he urged you up to the second floor in front of him, Joel’s quiet breaths filling the space around you. As soon as you made it to the upper floor, though, he spun you to face him and used one hand to tilt your head back, nodding. “This doesn’t have to be hard. Don’t want it to be.” He gave you a chance to speak but you chose not to, and so when he kissed you again, it felt final, like a decision had been made. And maybe it was.
You stepped backward and toward his bedroom as the two of you kissed, continuing to move with him until you felt the blunt edge of a piece of furniture against your lower back, the sound of something falling forcing the two of you apart. “Oh, shit!” Moving on autopilot, you reached for the picture frame, which was face down atop the dresser, flipping it upright and coming face to face with a much younger Joel, his arm around a child’s shoulders. Oh no.
“Thats my little girl.” He reached past you, fingers stroking over the smudged wooden frame. “Sarah. Scored two goals that day, they won the championship. Tommy brought this with him all the way from Texas, and it’s the only -”
“She has your eyes. Not the same color, but…” You saw the resemblance, even with Tommy. “Same shape. Same -”
“Took after her mother.” Joel’s right arm was still around you, and it tightened as he spoke. “Tommy always told her she was lucky causea that.” You couldn’t stifle your giggle, and even though you knew it wasn’t the right moment for it, you were relieved to hear Joel laugh along with you as he settled the picture back into its place. “She woulda liked you as much as I do.”
“Yeah?” You made eye contact with him again, the man’s expression slightly sad, though you could tell he was fighting through it. “Well if you were the one raising her, I’m sure I would have been a big fan of her, too.” He looked genuinely shocked at the comment, but didn’t say anything before he lowered his head again, kissing you softly, almost like he was thanking you for your words.
It was him that led you away from the dresser and back into the actual bedroom, Joel’s hands warm at your waist. And it was him, too, that pulled the shirt you wore over your head, dropping it before returning his hands to your body, sliding them down your arms and then over your stomach, fingers hooking into the elastic waistband before he eased your pants off, the man falling to his knees in front of you and only looking up when you’d stepped out of the flannel and he’d shoved it to the side. If someone had told you six months earlier that you’d have a man like Joel Miller kneeling in front of you and looking at you like he’d never seen anything he was more interested in, you would have told them that they were crazy. But I don’t want him on his knees.
Giving him a tiny shake of your head, you reached out, waiting for him to take your hand. “What’re… why?” It was time for another truth, and before you answered, you let your gaze fall from his face and to your joined hands.
“Wanna know what these hands can do.” Rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, you looked back up and winked. “You teased me earlier, and -”
He was on his feet before you finished, Joel ripping his shirt off and pushing you further into the room, your head turning to the side to gauge your position. You dropped onto the bed when you got there, scrambling back and to the center of the mattress as you watched him remove his pants, the man already half-hard again. At least I know he’s turned on. He crawled over your body as he got into the bed, Joel ducking his head down to kiss the inside of your knee and then higher, lips and beard moving slowly up the skin of your leg. When he made it to your thigh, he skipped a few inches, the next kiss aimed at your abdomen, just below your belly button.
You gasped at the sensation of his nose dragging against your sensitive skin, both hands going to his hair. When you tugged on it, Joel growled, speeding up his progress as he kissed his way up the center of your chest, your hands falling away from him and onto the blankets beneath you. Laying down next to you, Joel slid an arm beneath your body and urged you to rest against his chest. “You ready?” He nipped at your jaw and then kissed it tenderly, lips catching on your skin - but before you finished telling him that you were ready, Joel’s hand was between your legs, fingers flat as he touched you.
Crying out at the way it felt, you squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled through your nose, focused on the quiet murmur of Joel’s voice in your ear. He rubbed slowly, applying pressure on the backstroke of his fingers, and then after long moments, the man changed the angle of his hand, switching from three flat fingers to one - the slimmer digit gliding through you with no resistance. At the touch, you widened the spread of your legs and Joel hummed in approval, switching from broad strokes of his finger to tight circles. “More, Joel.” Your head lolled to one side, bumping against his shoulder and he did as you asked - adding another finger and a little more pressure.
You wanted to keep your eyes open, wanted to watch what he was doing to you, but you couldn’t, the feeling of him touching you too much, the words he spoke into your ear only adding to the overall stimulation. “Shoulda done this sooner.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, groaning. “Tell me what you need.” The circling stopped, replaced again with the pads of Joel’s fingers moving lower and then pressing lightly into you. “What you -”
“That.” Nearly gasping the word out, you nodded, hips jerking off of the mattress. “More of that, fuck,it feels -” He took the hint, fingers gliding into you deep enough that he could curl them before dragging them back out. “Keep doing that. Keep…” Your breaths turned into panting as he continued to talk into your ear, words blurring together as he alternated the movement of his fingers with the press and roll of the heel of his hand.
You had no idea how long he touched you for, but you knew that as time passed, you felt the pressure gathering in your lower body, heat building in your belly with every flex of his wrist. You were whimpering, hips rocking up and against his hand, but it was Joel’s words combined with the feeling of being filled with his thick fingers that did you in.
“C’mon. Let me feel you. Let me feel what it…” He paused. “Fuck, you feel good, you feel so… Goddamn…” That’s it. That’s… Toes curling and your entire body trembling, you sailed over the edge, Joel’s name spilling from your lips as one hand rose to grip his forearm, fingers tight around it even as he continued to guide you through your climax, the motion of his hand slowing but not stopping. “That’s it.” He was speaking into your skin again, lips moving along the crest of your cheek. “You’ve got another in you, I can tell.” Do I? He gave you a few moments to recover, but then Joel twisted his wrist, fingers finding a slow and steady rhythm as they pumped in and out of you, his thumb moving against the already sensitive spot beneath it, the added slick from your body decreasing any resistance that he might have found.
You wanted to be angry at him for being right, but you couldn’t be - especially when only a few minutes later, Joel’s nimble fingers coaxed another orgasm from your body, knees bending as your legs tensed up, head thrown back and your lips parted as you wordlessly reacted. How the fuck did he… The strength of it stole the breath from your lungs, and you were only dimly aware of the fact that you were digging your fingers into the meat of the man’s thigh, your other hand tangled in the blankets. Christ. He just … he…
Joel slowed the movement of his hand down and then when your body finally relaxed, he pulled it away entirely, though he didn’t make a move to reposition the rest of his body. “”Knew it.” He scoffed, nudging the side of your face. “Knew you could -” Finally gaining control over your body again, you rolled toward him, angling your head so that you could capture his lips in a kiss. It wasn’t that you were just thanking him, though that was part of it - you were anxious to have your hands on him, desperate to connect with him in another way, and so you pushed him onto his back, lifting one leg to straddle the man’s waist.
Bent in half at the waist as you knelt above him, you continued to kiss Joel, even as he tightened his grip on your hips, the man’s fingers spread wide. Your legs were still somewhat shaky, but you settled in, rolling your hips against his. Joel’s reaction was to meet that movement with one of his own, coating the length of him in what he’d just drawn from your body with his fingers. Breaking the kiss, you stared down at Joel, the man’s lips parted as he waited to see what you’d do next. “Feel real good from this angle, right?” Your hips moved again, Joel dragging them down so that they were as close to his as they could be. He didn’t reply, instead the man began to slowly rock his hips back and forth, the drag of him between your legs making you bite your lip.
“How’s that feel?” The sound of his voice was rough, Joel doing his best to keep it together, but you knew that he was close to breaking. “Feels fuckin’ incredible to me.” Yeah. It does. “Want my help?” He let go of your leg, raising the hand to your face and tracing over the full part of your lower lip with his thumb. “I need to -”
“I’ve got it.” You were still grinding against him, the feeling of him so close to where you wanted him most beginning to wear you down. “Gonna have to let me loose, though.” He immediately relaxed his grip and you let out a breath as you reached between you, rising up enough to lift him into place. “Go slow to start, Joel. Please. I want to get used to -” Assuring you that he would, you squeezed him once more, glancing down so that you could watch as he slipped into you.
There was no pain that time; the earlier encounter plus the slickness of your body made it easier for him to enter you. But you’d been right. The new angle allowed him to go much deeper, and you didn’t waste time sinking all the way down onto him, the backs of your thighs meeting the tops of his. He let you set the pace, eyes locked on your face, and you didn’t even try to hide your facial expressions as you moved, Joel filling you the exact way you’d hoped he would.
The hand near your face slipped down, Joel’s fingers trailing over the length of your arm until he could take your hand. What is he… But you figured it out quickly - the man lacing his fingers with yours and then urging you into an upright position with his other hand before he nodded. “Been thinkin’ about this all goddamn day.” You gasped at the admission, but still continued to move on top of him, rasing and lowering yourself slightly and circling your hips when you were fully seated. He squeezed both of your hands, wetting his lips as he looked up at you. “Do it. Know you want to.” You hadn’t expected Joel to be a talker in bed, but you had to admit that it was turning you on, the man’s deep, gravelly voice making you shiver, as was the intensity of his hooded gaze. Fuck it. I want to, and he wants me to.
You began to bounce up and down slowly, building up speed over time. The sounds of your bodies meeting mingled with your strained breaths, the glint in Joel’s eyes telling you that he was getting what he wanted, too. But after a few minutes, you realized that you’d leaned down again, sliding your joined hands up and toward his head, changing the angle back to one that gave you more leverage.
Letting go of his hands, you braced yourself with your forearms on his shoulders, and Joel surprised you with a single hard thrust, punching the breath from your lungs. That’s what he wants? Alright. You began moving in earnest after that, thrusting your body backward and then rolling your back and hips to find a rhythm. Fuck, yes. You hummed out in quiet approval, letting lost in the motion, but your eyes flew open at the sensation of his wet mouth on your chest, the man’s teeth and tongue working one nipple over.
He bit down at the same time his hands returned to your ass, but he wasn’t guiding you. Instead he was just holding on, Joel’s eyes rolling back in his head when he finally pulled his mouth away from you, head hitting the pillow. It was a marked change from the way he’d been with you earlier - the man still just as intense and focused, but able to control his body better, giving both of you a chance to enjoy what was happening instead of it ending too soon.
You felt the strength in him as you gripped his shoulders, speeding up the motion of your body. Joel was solid beneath you, the muscles in his thighs and lower body tight as he rocked up and into you, meeting each movement in perfect unison. You wondered if he could come that way, with you on top and maintaining the pace, and were suddenly overwhelmed with the need to find out, saying his name and waiting until he’d opened his eyes to continue. “Point proved.” Without breaking stride, you watched as his expression changed into one of confusion. “Fifteen seconds or fifteen minutes, remember?”
He got it immediately, nodding his head and letting go of you so that he could wind an arm around your lower back, the other hand moving to the nape of your neck, holding you in place. “Gonna give you what you want,” he grunted the words out, the snap of his hips more direct. “What you’re askin’ for.” Good.Closing your eyes at the feeling of him inside of you, you were dimly aware of the fact that he’d bent his legs to give himself more leverage, the man’s pace picking up while your own slowed, your body immediately giving him the go ahead to take control. “Still want me to come in-”
“Yes.” You gasped the reply, nodding even as his hold on you tightened. It was enough for him - the permission you gave him - and Joel’s thrusts came faster, though they weren’t any more shallow, the man’s angle hitting a spot inside of you that he hadn’t the the first time you’d been together. He’s going to make me come again. He’s going to… fuck. You cried out as you felt your body racing back to the edge, eyes opening again to find that Joel was staring at your face, though his expression was one that you weren’t expecting. The confusion had shifted into want, his lips parted and his eyes blazing. “Fuck, Joel -” Your nails dug into his skin and you were unable to look away, breath leaving you in quick, harsh pants that you knew he could feel over the skin of his cheeks.
With one final roll of your hips, the friction of your skin against his was too much, and you came with a cry of his name, your muscles constricting around him even as you fought to keep moving for his sake. Your entire body shook - knees wobbling with the effort of keeping yourself upright, and before your eyes slammed shut you saw the change in his expression again, the man hissing as his own eyes closed, the web of lines at the corners of them deepening. But Joel’s movement didn’t falter; he kept punching up into you without breaking stride. Even though your body was oversensitive, the evidence of your orgasm coating him - and the inside of your thighs - and making his motion smoother, you didn’t want him to stop.
But you did want him to come - and he didn’t keep you waiting.
You felt him tense beneath you after one particularly forceful thrust, Joel’s hips smacking against your thighs, and then he swore under his breath, the motion of his hips stopping briefly before he resumed. His strokes were short then, much quicker than they had been only moments earlier, and you lowered your head toward his, trailing your tongue over the side of his throat and feeling the tension of the muscle just beneath the skin. That was all it took and you felt him come again, his heat spilling deep inside of you, the motion of his hips momentarily stalled, though you could feel the pulsing of his muscles. Oh, fuck.
You went boneless a few seconds later, hands leaving his shoulders and your elbows hitting the mattress on either side of his head. You nuzzled against his neck as Joel’s hands fell away from your body and his lower half relaxed, too, both of you breathing hard. You could feel it - evidence of your releases leaking from your body where you were joined, and though you knew it was going to be an absolute mess, you weren’t concerned. Clean it up later. Right now I just wann
Rating: M There’s mention of what happened to Dieter, but not in detail. Language. Alcohol. Talk of sex.
Summary:Dieter has a gift for you less than two days before he’s set to leave England … what is it? And what does it mean? And after you find out - how will the two of you begin your last weekend together for months?
Author’s note:
This one has been a while coming - and I hope that all of you are just as excited to figure out what Dieter’s gift is *now* as you were before. Thank you for being patient with me - and thank you so much for the support on this story.
He led you out onto the balcony after you’d put a pair of shoes and your own robe on. Even though it was chilly, it made sense for the two of you to go outside and continue the conversation. This is where we first really talked. The two of you remained behind the short wall, blocking some of the breeze, but Dieter pulled the chairs back from the railing, arranging them to face each other. He’s nervous. You could see the look on his face - the man’s expression determined, and while you had a ton of questions for him, you decided not to ask, instead waiting for him to speak again and steer the conversation.
Whatever he had to give to you was obviously important, and after everything you’d learned about the man, you wanted it to be on his terms and not your own that things progressed. “Did you get good footage at the interview today? It seemed like you did.” He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “We all behaved.”
“You did.” Grinning, you nodded in agreement. “And yeah, I did. It think it’ll be a good way to bookend the BTS stuff, you know? All of you were really different in the beginning. It’s only been a couple months, but … a lot’s changed.” You meant it in general terms, but also specifically referring to Dieter. You’d never imagined from the first encounter in the lobby that the two of you would have reached the point that you were at, but you certainly weren’t about to complain. “Noticed the biggest change in you, though.” He tilted his head to the side, brows furrowed. “I’m serious. You really opened up, Dieter. And I think it did you good.”
“Maybe.” He straightened up, eyes darting away from you for long moments before they returned to your face. “Guess we’ll have to see what happens when we get outta here, hmm?”
“That’s going to happen sooner for you than for anyone else.” You tried to make it into a joke, but your voice wavered at the end of the sentence, Dieter immediately reaching out to take your hand in one of his. “I’m fine. I’m just … sad.” You figured it was better to get it all out early instead of waiting until the morning that he left, but Dieter’s expression was serious as he watched you, his gaze focused. “I’m going to miss you, Dieter. I know we’re still going to talk, but -”
“We’ve pretty much lived together since October.” He cleared his throat. “And for whatever reason, you haven’t gotten sick of me.” I haven’t. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d told me to fuck off after my overdose. I know you wouldn’t have, but a lot of people would. You didn’t owe me anything then, and you still don’t. But instead of pushing me away or giving me an ultimatum, you just … you were there for me.”
“Because I wanted to be.” Squeezing his hand, you closed your eyes. “I still want to be, Dieter. Even if it’s over the phone for a while, you have to know that I mean it.” He assured you that he did, the man’s tone serious. “And even if it doesn’t end up the way -”
“Just stop.” He interrupted you, holding up his free hand. “Stop right there.” What?“Before you say anything else, just …” Dieter shifted on the chair, scooting closer to the edge - and in turn, to you - reaching into the pocket of his robe. “I know it might seem like I don’t take a lot of shit seriously, but that’s not what I’m doing here.” What does he mean? “I know you’re set on us using the next few months apart as a way to figure out … if this can work in the real world.” His hand was still in his pocket, Dieter pausing and wetting his lips. “But I meant what I said, too. And so I wanted to give you something to… back it all up.”
“Dieter, you don’t have to prove yourself to…” Trailing off as he pulled his hand free, you felt your breath catch as you saw what he held. That’s a fucking ring box. “What is…”
“It’s not what you think it is. I promise.” He laughed, but it was a nervous sound, the man holding his hand out toward you. “Open it, and then I’ll explain.” He released your hand and you reached out, blinking furiously. Dieter was holding a small green box in the palm of his hand, and you took it from him, trying to keep from shaking as you did so. He said it’s not what it looks like, but …
Slowly, you opened the box, holding your breath the whole time. Oh, shit. You gasped at the contents, eyes immediately moving up to Dieter’s face and finding that he looked downright terrified. “Dieter?” Transferring the box to one hand, you used the other to prod at what was inside, confused. “What…”
“I wanted to give you something that meant something to me.” Dieter said your name and you glanced up, meeting his gaze again. “Something that you wouldn’t need to hide if you didn’t want to.” Ok, but… He held his hand out, pointing at the ring he wore on his pinky. “I bought this after I won my Oscar. Figured since I don’t really spend a lot of money on myself otherwise, I’d get something to commemorate the win.” You’d wondered about the ring before, the shape of the metal unique but not easily discernible, even up close. “So I picked a designer and had ‘em make me a ring out of the knife I used in the movie.” Oh, shit, that makes sense. “Melted it down and now I wear it.” But that’s not this one.
“I like that.” You gave him a smile. “You’ve never admitted to that in any interviews before.”
“I haven’t.” He cleared his throat, pointing at the box in your hand. “But that one’s… that one’s even more special.” Within the box - and threaded onto a silver chain was the ring that Dieter usually wore on his first finger; an oval-shaped, deep onyx stone set into a silver band. “That one… was the first thing I bought after I got paid for my first movie. I’ve had it since I was 21.”
“What?”Why would he give this to me? “Dieter, what…”
“Only time I take it off is when I’m filming.” Dieter took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it. ”And I took it off now because I’m giving it to you.”
“Dieter, I can’t take this. It’s your -”
“It’s not for you to keep.” He cleared his throat. “Just to … borrow. You can wear it and then give it back when we see each other next.” You understood the meaning of his words, the thing that he wasn’t saying. I’d give it back when we make a decision. “And um… there’s something else in there, too. So that if the ring’s not…”
You hadn’t noticed earlier, but when he mentioned it, you saw the small piece of metal behind the ring, a tiny flat pendant with a flower etched into it. What?“Dieter, it’s…” You pulled the chain from the box, flipping it shut and setting it on your lap so that you could inspect the jewelry closely. “It’s gorgeous.”
“That’s what took it so long to get here. Had to special order the pendant, and it took a little longer than I thought it would.” He reached out, using one finger to tilt your chin up and bring your face back up to eye level. “It’s … a Christmas cactus flower. I just thought that…”
“Cactus flower. That’s what you called me while we were running lines.” He nodded, the look in his eyes growing more hopeful by the second. “And Christmas because you got me flowers as a …” Ah shit. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, determined not to let them fall. “As a gift, Dieter.”
“Yeah.” He smiled at you, the man’s lip trembling slightly. “Yeah that’s… you get it.” I do. I do get it. You didn’t know what to say, letting the pendant and the ring roll over the center of your palm as you stared down at them. It was a gesture that you hadn’t expected - the man surprising you with an actual gift before he left. That’s the second time he’s done that, and all I have for him is … nothing.
“Will… you put it on for me?” Holding the chain out to him until he took it, you pulled the shoulders of your robe down, turning in your chair so that your back was partially to him. “See how it looks?” Only a few seconds later, you felt the weight of the chain and the two additions resting against your chest, followed by Dieter’s hands on your shoulders - and then his lips on the nape of your neck. You tilted your head down and then reached for the necklace, trailing your fingers over it. This is really happening. “Well?”
Turning back to face him, you bit your lip. He stared at you wordlessly for long seconds, the man’s eyes focused on where the pendant and ring landed against your chest. “I … really like seeing that on you.” He reached out then, his hand covering yours as both of you closed your fingers around the jewelry. But… if I have it and he doesn’t, people will notice.
“Dieter, you’ve had this thing for 20 years. It’s in almost every picture of you, what happens when -” He laughed quietly.
“Yeah, I thought of that, too.” The man cleared his throat. “I’m sure people will wonder. But I’m not gonna replace it. And if anyone asks, I’m just not gonna answer… yet.” Yet?You figured that he’d be good at deflecting, sidestepping a question with such a personal answer. But that still doesn’t tell me what I should do.
“Am… I allowed to wear it in public, Dieter? When I film my show, or if I’m out with friends?” You had a feeling that he’d say yes, but the words that came out of his mouth next still surprised you.
“I want you to. That’s the point. Want you to have a reminder of all this… of me wherever you go.” He removed his hand from yours, sitting back and resting both hands on his thighs. “But if you don’t want to, I’ll take the ring back, and you can just keep the -”
“Absolutely not.” Standing, you held your hand out and waited until he took it. “This is the most meaningful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I’m… speechless, to be honest.” Pointing at the balcony door, you tugged on his hand. “But I’m also cold, though, so we should …”
He stood immediately, and when the two of you were back in your room with the door closed, you wound both arms around his neck and rested your forehead against his, the man ducking down slightly to make it possible. “Anika helped me out with this, by the way.” What?Confused, you backed off slightly, waiting for him to explain. “I knew I didn’t really have time to order something, so I asked her if there was a jeweler around that she trusted that could do a custom piece.” He bit his lip and then released it, fighting back a smile. “She got me in touch with ‘em. And it uh, came back just in time.”
“I’ll have to thank her.” You used one hand to stroke over the back of his neck, fingertips gliding through his curls. “But Dieter… I don’t… I honestly don’t know what to say to you right now. This is …” It’s too much. “This is a big deal. This is like … if it were the 50’s and you asked me to go steady and wear your class ring.”
“Yep.” He was grinning again, the look of apprehension gone from his eyes. “And I know we’re not calling this anything while we’re apart, I get it. But I still… I wanted you to know that I feel -”
“I’m happy to wear it, Dieter. I’m…. thank you. Thank you for trusting me w-” He stopped your words by kissing you, the man’s right hand on your lower back, the left one raised to cradle the back of your head. There was more you wanted to say to him, more that you wanted to tell him, but you knew that the words wouldn’t come out properly - that if you tried to speak, you’d stumble over everything. So don’t talk. Don’t… even try.
When you broke apart, Dieter stared at you again, the look in his eyes warm. “What do you want to do tonight? You’re off tomorrow, and I don’t have to be on set until noon, so -” Pulling out of his arms, you shrugged the bathrobe down, letting it fall to the floor. The warmth changed to heat, the set of Dieter’s mouth shifting into a smirk, which only grew as you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving yourself in only a pair of leggings, a bra and the necklace.
“First, we’re going to get into that bed, and I’m going to thank you properly for such a thoughtful gift, Dieter.” Reaching around to unhook your bra, you dropped it onto the floor, too. “And then we’re going to order dinner.” He removed his bathrobe as you spoke, the man moving quickly to rid himself of his shirt immediately after. “But after that?” Hooking your thumbs into the elastic of your waistband, you shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
As soon as you’d removed your pants, leaving you completely bare in front of Dieter, he reached out for you, pulling you up against his body and then spinning both of you, urging you backwards and toward the bed. “I think I can figure something out.”
—-
It turned out that you didn’t order food until hours later, after you and Dieter had woken up from a short nap. Following the delivery of that, you ate in bed, going back to your original activity of choice for the two of you: Netflix.
The two of you stayed awake well into the night, laughing over the movies and shows that you chose, and when you fell asleep again, it was with your cheek against his chest, Dieter’s arms wrapped around you.
He left the following morning to go down for hair and makeup a little before he was supposed to, and as soon as the room was empty, you sat straight up in the bed, removing the necklace you wore. It wasn’t the pendant you looked at first, even though the floral etching was delicate and lifelike, the flower easily discernible. You instead held the ring up, eyeing the stone and the band before running your finger along the inside of it.
It wasn’t perfectly round, and you figured that that was due to Dieter’s nervous habit of tapping his hands against surfaces. But that meant that it was perfectly shaped to fit onto his finger, and before you could stop yourself, you slid yours into it, too, just to see the difference in size. It was much too large, even on your thumb, but just seeing the jewelry on your hand in the same way you’d seen it on his for months made your chest tighten, your other hand coming up to cover your mouth.
When you removed it, you caught an engraving on the inside of the band, just two letters and a date - 7/16/2002. It took a second, but you realized that the letters stood for the title of the movie, and the date must have been when he was hired, which arguably was a more important date than when the movie had premiered. It was the real deal - not that you’d assumed otherwise - but knowing that you held a piece of Dieter’s history in your hands, and were being entrusted to keep it safe for months was as good as any verbal declaration of affection, or any public admission that he wanted to be with you. And I’ve gotten both of those, too.
Yet again, you second guessed the decision to use the following months as a thinking period, but after a few seconds of reflection, you settled the necklace back into place around your neck and climbed out of bed, deciding to take a shower before leaving the room. You had to be apart anyway; there was no point in pretending otherwise, and even though you were questioning the likelihood of something working out long term with Dieter less and less by the second, it would still be a good time for you to think. He’d given you the ring, yes, but that didn’t mean that things wouldn’t change, especially when he was on a much more structured and professional set with very different restrictions.
Your body ached in a pleasant way, and so you let the hot water soothe it for longer than usual, soaking beneath the stream until your fingers were pruney. You didn’t know how long Dieter would be on set for that day, but you didn’t want to seem like you were hovering, so when you finally left the room, you grabbed a jacket, figuring that you’d go for a short walk outside to pass some time. Surprisingly, the front desk was empty when you walked past, and so you made it to the main doors quickly, stepping through them and into the early spring sunshine.
You walked down the main path and then to the right, wandering past the still closed café and toward the main road. Wonder what this place is like when it’s really busy. You had no desire to go back to the hotel after filming was done, but you were still curious - the property itself was gorgeous, the grounds meticulously maintained, and when it was bustling with guests, you figured that things would feel much more comfortable than they had under the restrictions.
Instead of walking all the way down to the fountain, you cut across the main driveway and made a loop, enjoying the way that the sun and slightly chilly air felt on your skin. You realized that in only a few weeks, you’d be back home - surrounded by familiar things and places, and that you’d have to trade the open spaces of Clifton for narrow sidewalks and steadily rising humidity whenever you wanted to take walks. As excited as you were to finally be done with Cliff Beasts, and as much as you were looking forward to sleeping in yourbed after nearly seven months, there were things about England that you’d miss. And not all of them have to do with Dieter, either. That was a revelation, and as you strolled past the outdoor pool and spa, you paused to consider it.
But your reflection period was short-lived, the sound of someone saying your name startling you out of your thoughts. It was Carol, to your surprise, and she was bundled up, though you could tell that she was wearing stage makeup and had on clothes for interviews beneath her jacket. “Surprised to see you alone, it seems like every time you’re out of your room and not at work, you’re with Dieter.” Is that meant to be offensive? You stared at the redhead for a few seconds, confused.
“He’s filming today. Same thing you are, the final interviews?” Turning to face her, you fought the urge to cross your arms defensively over your chest. “I’m off, because they’re all for private companies or sites, so -”
“I’m just saying. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten the chance to talk to you alone off-set.” Carol stepped closer to you, giving you a small smile. “I’m happy for him. Happy for you. I’m not sure if he told you, but he and I were supposed to … well, we were going to act like there was something going on while filming, just to drum up some interest in this stupid fucking movie.”
“He did.” The longer she spoke, the less malicious she sounded, and you relaxed, taking a long breath. “But he said that he didn’t really want to do it because of one of your exes?” Carol laughed, tossing her hair.
“Yeah, it turns out that neither of us wanted to do it, but I think it worked out for the best, right?” She cocked her head to the side, wrinkling her nose. “Are the two of you together? Or are you just making the most of being stuck here?” Here’s the first opportunity to say something to someone, and …
“We’re not together. Not officially. He’s got another movie lined up right after he leaves here, and I’m going back to my job in Atlanta. We’re just going to … see what happens.” She nodded, giving you another once-over. “I’m not stupid, Carol. I know that there’s a chance it’s not going to -”
“No, you’re not stupid.” She sighed, reaching up to scratch the side of her head. “But I want to tell you a little secret about Hollywood.” She moved closer, dropping her voice. “Most of us, you can’t trust. Actors, I mean. It’s all about making ourselves look and feel better, and if we don’t know you, you’re not gonna get the real thing until we do.” She met your eyes, sincerity in hers. “But Dieter? He comes off like an asshole a lot, but he’s actually one of the good ones. He wouldn’t lead you on, especially after spending so much time here with you.” Carol wet her lips. “He had other options here. Plentyof them, and he didn’t take any of them up on it.” Are you included in that list?
You didn’t think so - she’d seemed pretty set on getting Dustin’s attention whenever she could, and you hadn’t ever seen her even flirt with anyone else off-camera. “Carol, I -”
“The night he… that Anika saved him? That would have been a perfect excuse for him to get with her as a thank you, and then frame it as ‘oh, you can’t blame me, she saved my life.’ He didn’t. And it seems like after that night, the two of you… well, you’ve been pretty damn inseparable, haven’t you.” You were surprised that she’d noticed, but since she was right, you didn’t see a reason to lie, agreeing quickly. “You’ll see him again soon. They’re going to edit the shit out of this movie and add a million low quality special effects, but it won’t take them long at all.”
You couldn’t hold back a laugh at that, rolling your eyes and glancing up at the sky. “No, I’m sure it won’t.” The two of you started walking again, back in the direction of the hotel. “What were you doing out here? Just taking a break?” She nodded in agreement, both hands in her pockets. “How many interviews do you have to do today?”
“Three more by myself and then one with Krystal.” She paused. “And then one with Sean and Dustin.” You didn’t envy the cast at all; even the easy days were filled with work to do, and you winced at the admission. “Yeah, but after today it’s back to our regularly scheduled 13 hours of bullshit with Darren.”
“At least we’re almost done.” You were back at the front doors of the hotel, the two of you pausing before entering. “Maybe things won’t be as hectic for the last weeks of the shoot.” Carol actually laughed as she reached for the door handle, the sound echoing off the high ceilings of the lobby.
“I wish that was true. But it’s only going to get worse.” Great.Her phone rang then, Carol reaching into her pocket to pull it out. “I have to go. I’m due on camera in ten. But don’t forget what I said, alright?” You had no idea why she’d gone out of her way to give you a Dieter pep talk, but you weren’t going to question it. Not so close to the end.
Carol made her way off in the direction of the hallway you’d used the day before and you decided to go to catering and grab something to eat. Surprisingly, there were only a few people in the room, and none of them were cast - but one of them was Darren, the man sitting across the table from Gavin, the two men engrossed in conversation. That looks interesting.
Under the pretense of getting food, you made your way over in their direction, listening closely to see if you could overhear what they were talking about. As you grabbed your meal, you overheard words like “rewrite” and “reshoot” and “night shoot”, barely containing your groan of annoyance. That wasn’t going to go over well with anyone - including you. But at least if we’re doing night shoots again, it’ll be easier to sleep without … The fact that your first thoughts were of missing Dieter told you just how fucked you were when it came to him, and what the time you’d spent together had done to your way of thinking about yourself and your relationships. But it was worth it. It’ll all be worth it. Doubling back to get another side of fruit, you listened again - to Gavin speaking, his hands gesturing wildly.
At his words, you froze in place, unable to keep from reacting. Shooting the seventh movie right after this one? What the… absolutely not. They can’t… You heard someone clearing their throat and turned your head toward the sound, finding both Gavin and Darren staring at you. Shit.“Are you eavesdropping?”
“No, I’m getting lunch.” You held up the food in your hands. “Decided I wanted more fruit, so I came to grab another container.” Good. I don’t sound guilty. “Why, are you talking about something that I shouldn’t hear in the middle of the public dining room?”
“No.” Darren spoke first, the man sighing loudly. “We’re just talking about the end of the shoot, and what the studio wants.” Right. They apparently want to keep everyone here longer. He laughed, the sound thin. “That fruit does look good.”
“Yeah.” You held the container out to him, the man reaching for it without hesitation. “Take this one, I’ll grab another.” You smiled at both men, lifting and dropping your shoulders in a shrug. “I’m going to go eat now, if that’s alright.” Neither of them said anything and so you turned back to the fruit, picking up a third container and then making your way to the lobby - and the elevators. I was planning on eating in there, but I guess not now.
You didn’t know what to make of the conversation you’d overheard, but figured that Dieter might be able to explain his take on it next time you saw him - whenever it was that he got done filming. That gave you time, and so you sunk down onto your freshly made bed, crossed your legs and spread your lunch out in front of you, the TV playing in the background while you ate.
A knock on your door interrupted some British sitcom while later, and you answered it to find Jenna standing in the hallway, looking more uncertain than she had in all the months you’d known her. “Can I come in?” Stepping aside, you let the woman into your room, motioning for her to take a seat at the table if she wanted to. She did, though she didn’t say anything for long minutes, instead staring at her hands, which were clasped together on the table in front of her. “I’m sorry I ruined your dinner the other night. I really thought that Dieter would have told you that we were leaving. I didn’t mean to … surprise you like that.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Jenna. You didn’t know. I overreacted. I knew you were going to be leaving before me, so I don’t … I don’t know why it surprised me so much.” She thinks I’m upset with her? “And hey, at least you delivered the shitty news, and he didn’t need to do it.”
“Yeah. Great.” She rolled her eyes. “I really am sorry, though. I know how close you’ve gotten, and it can’t be easy to know that you’ve only got a couple days left.” You’re not wrong. Her eyes moved from your face down and then back up, confusion switching to surprise. “Is that his…” Shit.
“Yeah.” Reaching up to take the ring between your fingers, you rubbed your thumb over the stone. “Yeah, he… fuck, Jenna, he gave it to me to keep while he’s filming Valley of Shadow, because he said he wanted me to have something meaningful of his, and …” You pushed it to the side, showing her the pendant. “And he got me this to keep once I don’t have the ring anymore, so -”
“Dieter did that?” She leaned over the table, reaching out and putting her hand behind the pendant so she could see it better. “A flower? Wh-”
“We were reading over his lines for his self tapes, and he ad-libbed a nickname for the girl in the scene, and called her Cactus Flower, which fit because of the setting, but…” She let go of the pendant, letting it - and the ring - fall back against your chest, but didn’t look back up. “Then he gave me this, and I just … I’m confused Jenna. Because I know we need to figure out what happens when we’re apart and can’t be around each other all the time, but I… this is a grand gesture. This is huge,and -”
“In all the time I’ve known Dieter, he’s never done anything like this for anyone. His gifts to people? He sends them bottles of wine and standard gift baskets. He sends them off to a spa or a massage or sends them weed.” You snorted at that, but she kept going. “He doesn’t do sentimental, ever, except with his family. This is … I don’t even know what to say to this.” She was beaming, the woman happier than you’d seen her since she found out she was going home for weeks at Christmas. “Shit.” Jenna rubbed her forehead, scoffing out another quiet laugh. “Wow. Ok, well, this changes a lot of things.” It does? “I just came to apologize and to say goodbye. I figured that you and Dieter will be … well, that we won’t really see much of you tonight or tomorrow, so …”
“It’s up to him.” You shrugged. “I think he said something about the cast wanting to say goodbye tonight, but …”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be at that.” She stood from the table, looking down at where you still sat. “I’m not cast.” Neither am I. “But I’m sure I’ll see you on Monday morning, before we leave for the airport. “ She tapped on the table with one finger, raising a brow. “Take care of that ring. If you don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it.” You began to laugh as she headed for the door, but before she could pull it open, someone beat her to it, Dieter stepping into the room, with his hair still styled from set. Oh. Hi. “Dieter!”
“What are you doing in here, Jenna?” He looked past her and at you before returning his attention to the other woman. “Something wrong?”
“Nope. I was just coming in to apologize and say goodbye. Didn’t want to interrupt the two of you before Monday morning.” Dieter’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile, but Jenna didn’t even pause as she stepped past him and into the hallway. “Make sure your shit’s packed, Dieter. I don’t want to have to contact the hotel in two weeks when you figure out you left something here.” He grumbled under his breath that he wouldn’t forget anything, and then the woman was gone, the door closing behind her.
“If you do forget anything, I can just send it home to you.” You balanced your chin on your palm, watching as he made his way toward where you sat. “You know, if you trust me with your address.”
“Of course I do. I’ll text it to you.” He leaned down, kissing you on the cheek. “I actually stopped here to see if you wanted to help me pack. I’m supposed to meet some of the cast for drinks tonight, and figured we could get most of it done and then go down for that.” You want me to go with you? “I didn’t bring too much, so it shouldn’t take long, but folding everything’s a bitch.”
“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to that at all.” Leaning back in your chair, you stared up at him. “Yes, I’ll help you pack. And if you want me to go to your party tonight, I’d like that.” You paused. “But only if we eat dinner first.”
“Deal.” Dieter’s smile grew, the man stepping back from the table and toward the door. “It’s a date.”
—
You didn’t get back to Dieter’s room until late that night, both of you stumbling through the hall and stopping in front of his door, the man fumbling for the key to let you both in. You weren’t drunk, but you were tipsy - the result of Dustin’s insistence that the two of you not leave early since it was a celebration. Dieter was less intoxicated than you, the man sipping his drinks slowly after leading with a hefty pour of whiskey. You’d expected to feel out of place in the room filled with actors and actresses, but instead, they’d made you feel more welcome than ever before.
You were included in conversations, asked questions and even listened to when you were simply speaking, and to your surprise, before the end of the night, both Carol and Sean had added you on Instagram, something that completely shocked you. It meant more exposure - and more of a link to Dieter, but there was nothing that you could do about it, especiallywhen they kept you in a group shot of them sharing a toast to Dieter, and then Carol posted it immediately after on her page, tagging you.
But the most interesting part of the night was their response to you telling them what you’d overheard Darren and Gavin talking about. They’d believed you immediately, none of them happy about any of those options. You didn’t blame them, and weren’t surprised to see Carol, Sean and Dustin moving off into one corner to talk between themselves as you and Dieter said your goodbyes on the way back to your rooms.
“Are we packing more?” You sunk down onto Dieter’s couch, stretching out on the cushions. “We can finish tonight, Dieter, and then have all day tomorrow to -”
“No.” He was already changed out of the clothes he’d worn to the party, the man dressed in only the green bathrobe and a pair of shorts. “We’re not packing anything else tonight. I’m mostly done anyway.” Cracking one eye open, you turned your head to look at Dieter, eyes raking over him from head to toe. “I can finish Monday morning.”
“I’m gonna miss you.” You spoke without thinking, the sentiment spilling from your lips. “Gonna be lonely here without … “ Sitting up, you sighed. “Without you, Dieter.” You’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry, that you’d stay composed because it was stupid to be upset when you knew that the separation was temporary. But I will miss him. A lot. “Especially if they’re planning on keeping us here for longer to shoot 7, and have a ton of reshoots planned.” He joined you on the couch, pulling you onto his lap, and without pause, you ducked your head down, tucking your face into the side of his neck and sliding one hand beneath his robe to press against his skin.
“They can’t keep you here for 7. I don’t know what anyone else’s contracts are like, but they had no reason to write an additional movie into yours. You can’t do anything about reshoots or nights, but the minute 6 wraps? You get to go.”You felt his chest rising and falling against your body as he spoke, Dieter’s voice comforting you. “And believe it or not, I’m going to miss you too.” He tilted your face up with one finger, giving himself a chance to look you directly in the eye. “A fucking lot.”
The admission made your entire body warm, and you couldn’t resist angling your face so that you could kiss Dieter in response, not trusting yourself to speak. He kissed you back, but made no attempt to deepen the kiss, instead moving the finger beneath your chin so that he could rub his thumb over your cheek, swiping it in a slow, steady circle. It’s going to be a long four months. “Dieter?” You took a breath when he pulled back, blinking to get your bearings. “Take me to bed?” He laughed at you, shaking his head no. What?
“We’ll go to bed, but you’ve had too much to drink tonight. I know that you’d probably be alright with whatever happened, but I wouldn’t.” What? I’m not that … “We’ll have all day tomorrow to make up for it, but how about …” He leaned closer, lips against your ear. “I’ll rub your back, put you to sleep.” It sounded like a good idea, and the thought of his massive hands all over your body was more than appealing, so you agreed. “Get ready for bed. I’ll be here.”
You peeled yourself from his lap and then headed for the bathroom, smiling the whole way. While you stood and brushed your teeth, you realized that you were less sober than you’d thought, and by the time you were guzzling down a large glass of water, you were thankful that Dieter had turned you down. I don’t even know that I’d be able to do much anyway. The lights in the room were mostly off when you emerged from the bathroom, and Dieter was waiting, telling you that he needed five minutes and that you should get comfortable. “Am I allowed to take my clothes off, or -”
“You sure are.” He raised an eyebrow, running one hand through his hair. “Bra and underwear on though.” Five months earlier, you wouldn’t have believed those words were going to leave his mouth, but instead of replying, you just nodded, waiting until he was inside of the bathroom to begin taking your clothes off, removing the necklace and setting it carefully on the bedside table. When you were just down to your underwear, you climbed into the bed, staying on top of the blankets but stretching out on your stomach, cheek pressed to the pillows. It was comfortable, and you were tired, but you managed to stay awake until you heard his voice again, the sound strained. “Fuck.” Cracking one eye open, you saw that Dieter was standing at the foot of the bed, his hands curled into loose fists at his sides. “Fuck, you’re…”
“You’re the one that said no to me, Bravo.” He groaned and you laughed at the sound. “And you promised me a massage, so…” The mattress dipped as he climbed into bed, straddling your thighs, and the next thing you knew, he had his hands on your back, palms flat and fingers spread out.
He was strong but not overpowering, and you relaxed beneath his touch, the man working his way up your torso and then back down, focusing on the center of your back with his thumbs. “You’re really tense.” He spoke quietly, digging in. “Carrying that camera around too much.”
“It’s my job.” You sighed, fighting back a quiet moan at the way his hands were working over your skin. “Can’t just stop.” Dieter stayed quiet for a few seconds, and then you felt his breath on your bare skin, only seconds before his lips were too. “Dieter…”
“I’ll behave.” He kissed his way across your shoulders, the movement of his hands on your lower back never faltering. “Can’t help it, though.” Good. I can’t either. You were slightly disappointed when he sat up, but Dieter moved both hands in unison, his fingertips pressing down on either side of your spine, hands spreading out when they reached your neck. “Gonna unhook you, that alright?” Whispering back a ‘yes’, you felt him do it seconds later, and the next time he ran his hands up and down the entire length, there was nothing in his way, the pressure consistent the whole time.
You let him work on you for a few more minutes, feeling that your body was going slack beneath his touch, and then you spoke, shifting on the mattress. “You can stop whenever, Dieter. It feels amazing, but you don’t have to -”
“Wanna touch you while I can.” He laughed, almost like he was embarrassed. “Fuck. I sound like a … Christ, I sound like…” He trailed off, moving backwards to slide further down your legs, hands following. You gasped as he squeezed your ass with both hands, followed by a light smack to one cheek, and then his weight was gone, the man laying down next to you. “Sorry. I said I’d behave, but -”
“Dieter, for you, that was behaving.” He smiled in the darkness, the man’s cheeks going round, and when he reached for you, one arm winding around the upper back that he’d just been massaging, you moved closer to him immediately, not caring that your unhooked bra exposed your chest. He kissed you soundly, and before you knew what was happening, Dieter had both arms around you, crushing you to his chest as his lips moved with yours.
You understood immediately - it was the beginning of him saying goodbye; the man trying to show you different sides of himself that hadn’t been exposed yet. But I like all of him. You realized it as he backed off enough to take a breath, his eyes meeting yours again. I like everything. “We should go to sleep.” He licked his lips. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise of behaving.” It was your turn to laugh, but you moved as you did, shrugging out of your bra and dropping it to the floor before sitting up to reach for the blanket.
You faced away from him when you laid back down, letting your back meet his chest. Dieter curled around you from behind so closely that there wasn’t any space between you, but it was comfortable, your body still pliant from the time he’d spent with his hands on you. “If the movie career ever dries up, Dieter, you could always turn to massage. I’m sure there are plenty of people that would killto have you touch them like that, even if they had to pay for it.”
“Does that bother you?” It was as direct as he’d ever been when it came to discussing his popularity and what it might mean if the two of you were together.“That people feel like that about me?”
“No.” There was no hesitation in your reply. “You’re an actor, Dieter. You have been for years. It’s part of the territory.” Should I even say it? Yes. “I’ve watched you kiss other people on camera. I’ve… seen you do sex scenes, and know you’ll be doing another on the next movie. You’re supposed to be appealing to the people that watch your work, that’s part of what comes with it all.” Part of what it would mean to be with you. “I wouldn’t want you to act on any of it if you and I were … together, but I understand that there’s always going to be people trying, or you’ll have to do it for roles, so I’d have to be alright with it..”
“You’d be surprised,” he replied after a few seconds of thought, his breath fanning out over your bare skin. “I think I’ve only filmed one or two scenes that weren’t just … work.” He kissed the back of your shoulder, lips lingering on your skin. “It’s hard to really enjoy any of that shit when there’s 20 people in the room and three different cameras and you’re wearing a cock sock.” You snorted, rolling your shoulders slightly and settling further into the bedding. “I’m being serious. It’s not as sexy as some people make it out to be.”
“Good.” You felt your breaths lengthening. “I’m not an actress so there’s no way I could compare if it was.” Dieter said your name urging you to turn back to face him, and when you did, he kissed you on the mouth - the affection short but firm.
“I kiss actors and actresses all day at work. I don’t want to do the same thing at home.” You could still see his eyes in the dim light, and though you weren’t fully awake, you saw honesty there, the man telling you the absolute truth. “I -” He was cut off by a yawn, Dieter’s eyes squeezing shut. “Shit. Sorry. I was just gonna say that I hope you still feel this way when you haven’t been drinking.”
“I will.” It was your turn to yawn, the end of it cut off in a quiet yip. “It’s fucking late Dieter. We need to go to bed, otherwise we’ll sleep all day.” And I’m not wasting our last one.
He settled down behind you again, and within minutes, both of you were sleeping, his arm still securely around you.
Rating: M - language, mentions of the events that occur within the TLOU universe, mentions of sex, talk of death, drinking
Warning: This gives away some of the plot points of TLOU. If you don’t want to know them, don’t read!
Summary: Accepting Joel’s invitation to come and visit - on your own - leads to some pretty deep thoughts. And after the two of you are alone in his house, those thoughts turn into conversation … and more admissions between you.
Author’s note:
This takes place immediately following Waiting For This Sky to Fall. I started writing and got carried away. As a whole, the thing sits at just under 20k with some left to write, and that’s entirely too long for a one shot, so I split it into 2. Like I said earlier - there’s plenty of intimacy, but no actual smut in this part… that comes next.
Song Suggestion: “Bonfire” by Third Eye Blind
The walk to Joel’s simultaneously felt like it took forever and no time at all.
You’d never gone straight there from your place before, and so you thought that that might have had something to do with it. You’d also never gone there alone, and you knew that that was the real issue.
But it’s not an issue, not really, because… He’d invited you. He’d explicitlyinvited you, only moments after he’d kissed you and warned you that he didn’t want to fuck anything up. You didn’t want to either, but in the day and a half that you’d had to think since you’d last seen Joel, you’d decided that the chances of that happening were slim to none.
Hewas nothing if not practical, and after so long in Jackson, you understood the way things worked. Since very few people passed through the community and most that did chose to stay indefinitely, it was common for relationships to grow and shift before fizzling out, exes remaining in close contact with each other. Those connections were necessary to keep the town running at full strength, especially when people had met and grown close simply because they worked together.
There were outliers of course - a handful of people had chosen to leave rather than stay and be confronted with their pasts, and some couples that had gone their separate ways that made it a point to avoid each other at every opportunity. But that’s rare. As you turned down Joel’s street, a small bag containing DVDs tucked beneath one arm, you took a breath. And it won’t with him, even if … this goes nowhere.
You weren’t stupid - you knew that a few kisses and an admission of attraction weren’t a guarantee that you’d have any sort of non-platonic future with Joel. He seemed like the type of man that could engage in casual sex without getting emotional about it, scratching an itch and moving forward, business as usual. You’d done the same in the past, not wanting to deny yourself the necessary release, but at the same time, not allowing yourself to get emotionally involved with your partner of choice. That option had been your go-to after Charlie, preferring to keep yourself focused on routine and the day to day instead of letting yourself care so much about anyone that it altered your behavior and inevitably backfired on you.
And then Joel and Ellie came to Jackson. The more time you’d spent with the two of them, the more you realized that your resolve was being tested. The better you got to know them - together and separately, with Tommy and Maria and without, you knew that their arrival changed things. For me and for Jackson. They were assets in every way, and you counted yourself lucky to be welcomed into the inner circle, even before you’d realized that you were attracted to Joel. At the very least, you’d gained more people that you could count on, and if it went somewhere else? Even better.
Joel stopping over to check on you and everything that had ensued had flipped everything you knew upside down, though. You’d felt it before - the crackling, almost electric charge between the two of you when it was just the two of you, the easy way that you spoke to and joked with each other, the presence of something just beneath the surface that neither of you were willing to put a name to. Why then? Why did he … His house came into view, the steps and railing the first thing you saw, and without thinking, your footsteps quickened. It doesn’t matter. It happened, and now … I’m here.
Where things would go was an entirely different story, though. He’d invited you over to watch a movie, and you figured that you’d spend more time talking, a couple of hours exploring whatever the new phase of your friendship was before you headed home. He’ll offer to walk with me, you guessed as you rested your hand on the curved top of the railing. Because it’ll be dark.
But it wasn’t dark then, though the sun was on its way toward the horizon, and while the two of you hadn’t decided on an exact time for your arrival, you hadn’t wanted to head over too early. Or too late, because then people might think… You knew what people would think already, but you only cared about the opinions of a few of them. Very few of them. After taking and releasing a deep breath, you stepped up onto the porch, the wooden boards creaking slightly beneath your feet as you raised your hand to knock on the frame of the screen door that Joel had installed for the summer months. It’s just a movie.
You heard music - faint but audible, and you peeked inside, waiting for a response to your knock. “I’m in the kitchen!” At the sound of Joel’s voice, you sucked in a breath, hand freezing above the handle. He sounds … normal. For a moment, you were back in Illinois, and it was another Friday night of hanging out with friends, gathering at one person’s house until you could figure out what to do and where to go. But when Ellie peeked around the wall that led into the living room, her eyes lighting up, the illusion was broken. This will be interesting.
She stepped fully into the hallway as you entered, making sure the door was shut behind you before you spoke. “Hey, Ellie. I just came over to -”
“You’re here to hang out with Joel.” She was fighting back a smile, both arms crossed over her chest. “And you’re why I have to go to Tommy and Maria’s for the night so the two of you can be alone.”Here come the assumptions. Ellie was one of the people whose opinion you cased about, and so you immediately moved to diffuse the situation, wanting her to know that she didn’t need to go anywhere.
“You can stay.” Holding up the bag of movies, you moved your head back and forth. “You don’t need to go. We can all watch a movie, I brought -”
“Ew, no, and watch the two of you cuddle on the -”
“Ellie.” Joel’s voice was sharp, the man appearing in the doorway of the kitchen, a towel in his hands. “That is no way to talk to a guest.” Her eyes left your face and moved to his, but you saw the glint in them, realizing that if she’d been teasing before, it was only going to get worse with his intrusion. You’re in for it now.
“Sorry,Joel. Must have missed the day in school where we covered manners when we snuck out of Boston.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But am I wrong? Isn’t that what happens when you ‘watch a movie’ with someone? You -”
“Who you been watchin’ movies with to know that, hmm?” Joel raised an eyebrow. “You tell me so I know who I gotta talk to next time I see ‘em.” It was always a pleasure to watch the two of them interact, and it was impossible to contain your smile as they went back and forth with each other. If you didn’t know better, you would have assumed that they were actuallyfather and daughter, though Joel was quick to draw the line - and for good reason.
“Ugh.” Ellie rolled her eyes, dropping her arms and shaking her head back and forth. “Like I’d tell you, Joel.” Barely concealing your snort, you waited to see what she said next, but instead of speaking to Joel, she returned her attention to you. “I’m just fucking with both of you.” The girl winked, scratching the top of one forearm, a still healing chemical burn taking up a large portion of her skin. “And I’m spending the night over at Tommy’s, by the way. Won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. That gives you plenty of -”
“Oh, Ellie. I’m just here to watch a movie. I’ll be gone in a couple hours. You don’t need to staythere.” Does that mean she assumes that I’m spending the night? Or… You didn’t know what to say to that, and so instead of speaking, you risked a glance at Joel, finding that he was staring at you, a curious look in his eyes. Does he want me to stay?
“Watch two movies then.” Ellie widened her smile, stepping past you and to the door. “I won’t know… or be here to stop you.” Before either you or Joel could reply, she was gone, the screen closing behind her and the two of you watching as she hurried down the stairs and toward the street.
“I don’t know where she gets it from.” He sighed at the end of his sentence, but you heard him step closer to you, stopping just behind where you were standing. “She likes givin’ me a hard time about every damn thing.”
“I have no idea where that might come from.” Slowly, you turned to face him, tilting your head back slightly so that you could look into his eyes. “She definitely doesn’t know anyone that -”
“Quiet.” His eyes were gleaming, bright with the laughter he was desperately trying to hold back. “I’m glad you came over.” Joel let out a breath, reaching for you with one hand. “Got a surprise for you, if you want it.”
“A surprise?” He nodded. “What is it?” You felt his fingers as they tightened against your shoulder, the hand holding the towel still down by his side. “You didn’t have to do anything. It’s just a movie, like I told Ellie.”
“Is it?” The man blinked, his eyes focused on your face. “Seems to me like this is a date.” Jerking his chin in the direction of the kitchen, Joel urged you to follow him. “C’mon.” A date? Ducking into the living room to set the bag down on the small table, you took a deep breath before making your way into the kitchen after Joel. You hadn’t even dared to entertain the thought that spending an evening at his house watching a movie would be anything more than friendly, but Joel had been the one to call it by a different name, filling you with hope.
“Does that mean that I have to wait til the end of the night to see if you’re going to kiss me, Joel?” You had no idea where it came from; your question far bolder than anything you’d ever said to anyone in the past. Oh, shit. He stopped between the island and the sink, his broad shoulders rising and falling before he turned to face you, movement slow.
“Hell no.”
He moved toward you with purpose, Joel closing the distance between your bodies in only a few steps, and when he reached for you that time, there was nothing tentative about it. One arm wound around your waist to pull you closer and the other hand settled against your shoulder, fingers curling over the top of it. He lowered his head while you tilted yours back slightly, eyes closing. I’ve been waiting to feel this again. His lips were warm, Joel humming quietly as your mouths met, and it took only seconds for you to relax into his hold. “You wanna touch me, touch me.” His words from the previous night on the mountain echoing in your ears, you did just that, running your hands up and over his lower back, the material of the shirt he wore soft against your palms.
Joel pulled away first, though he didn’t pull out of your arms, and you were surprised to see that he was flustered, the look in his eyes slightly off, even though he didn’t look away. “Six months.” Joel closed his eyes, head shaking back and forth slowly. “Six months ago, Ellie an’ me were still makin’ our way across the country, and we didn’t …” He trailed off. “And now I’m standin’ here in my kitchen, getting ready to watch a move with a woman I …”
“It’s a lot to take in, Joel. Especially for someone that was on the move as much … and for as long as you were.” You were familiar with the way people reacted to their first months in Jackson - the disbelief, the fear that it would all change at the drop of a hat, the discomfort at letting rigid rules and ways of life change enough to be comfortable.Joel was no different, and if what Tommy had told you over the years was true, it was going to take more than a few months to get Joel to a point where he was relaxed for longer than a few moments at a time. “There are still days where I think that this is too good to be true, but it’s not. We’ve been here for two decades, and we’re stillhere. I promise, the longer you’re in Jackson, the easier it gets.”
“Yeah.” He wet his lips, swearing under his breath. “Yeah, I know.” Distract him. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but you knew that it needed to be done, getting Joel out of his head and all the way back into the kitchen with you.
“You said you had a surprise for me?” He was still holding you, both hands tightening as you spoke. I like that. “What is it?”
“I do.” His eyes flicked to the right, toward the counter. “Probably not much of a surprise for you because you’ve been here, but…” You followed his line of sight and saw a bowl of dried corn, along with a small bottle of oil.
“Popcorn?” Unable to contain your smile, you rose onto your toes and kissed his cheek, and overwhelming feeling of appreciation for the man you were still getting to know surging through you. “Who’d you have to bribe to get that?”
“Maria.” Joel laughed, but the sound was affectionate. “And I didn’t bribe her, I offered a trade.” That made sense - there were plenty of things to trade including services and skills, and in the months that they’d been in Jackson, Joel had more than proven he was up to the task. “Got salt, too. But no butter. I -”
“Salt’s fine.” You didn’t know what else to say without getting overly sentimental. It was just supposed to be a movie, and if I keep talking, it’s going to … Joel was trying - very hard - to make the night special for you. You didn’t know if it was because he knew you were still upset about Josie, or if it was something else, but either way, you appreciated it. “And you’d be surprised, Joel, popcorn’s still kind of a luxury here. Most people don’t ration it the way Maria does.”
He busied himself with moving the kernels and oil and getting things out of the cupboards, pulling out a large cast-iron skillet and a pot lid, the man’s shoulders flexing beneath his t-shirt. Fuck, Look at him. “I haven’t ever cooked it like this before, so I hope I -
“I can help.” Tearing your eyes away from his back, you stepped next to him, taking a breath. “I don’t mind. I’ve been cooking in a cast iron for a lot longer than you.” He didn’t reply, and so you nudged him with an elbow. “You can do it next time.”
“Deal.” He stepped away, leaning against the counter beneath the wall shelves and crossed both arms over his chest. “Maybe next time it’ll be actual food.”
“I donno, Joel.” You twisted the knob to ignite the flame, positioning the skillet on top of it. “We’ll have to see how tonight goes first. A girl’s gotta keep her options open.” He snorted but didn’t speak as you poured the oil in, ears trained on the quiet sizzle. “Do you want me to make all of this?” He told you yes and so you poured everything into the pan, shaking it so that they spread into an even layer. Towel. I need a towel. Reaching for the one hanging from the cabinet handle, you covered your hand with it, holding the lid over the pot. The two of you fell into an easy silence, the sound of a dog barking reaching your ears through an open window.
It was comfortable in his house - with Joel - and you tried not to let yourself think about it too much. “I know you brought movies with you, but…” He shifted on his feet, scratching one arm without uncrossing them. “This house had a bunch of DVDs when we moved in, so -”
“I brought all comedies.” Shaking the pan lightly, the end of the towel wrapped around the handle, you looked over at him. “Wanted to laugh this week.” The kernels were starting to pop, the smell filling the kitchen. “Brought The Hangover 1 and 2, the newer Jump Street movie,Horrible Bosses…” You shook the pan faster, glancing over at Joel only to find that he was watching you intently. “Wedding Crashers andAnchormanare…” Trailing off, you frowned. “I don’t even know if you remember any of those, but I saw them on the shelf, and all kinds of memories came back, so -”
“I saw the first Hangovermove in a theater.” He cleared his throat. “Was on a date. Tommy offered to babysit for me. I can’t… remember her name, but she didn’t laugh as much as I did.” You recognized the tone of voice there, too - the man recalling things from before that he wouldn’t have had he not been in a position like Jackson offered. It still happened to you occasionally, so you knew how jarring it could be. He’s not alone.
“I think I did, too.” You continued to shake the pan, even though the popping had slowed. “Not with a guy, though. Friends.” Carefully, you lifted the pan off of the heat and set it on a cold burner, fully turning your head to look at him. “Got a big bowl?” He pushed away from the counter and bent over, reaching in to get one for you. “I’ll let you salt it, Joel.”
It felt normal, moving around the man’s kitchen with him, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over one of his arms and snagging a few pieces of the popcorn before he’d had a chance to fully season them. “How’s it taste?” It was an opportunity - one that you weren’t going to pass up on, and so you lifted your hand to his lips, a few pieces between your fingers.
It was a gamble - you didn’t know if Joel would react - but only moments later, he did, leaning forward slightly to let you push the popcorn between his lips and into his waiting mouth. It was easily the most intimate thing you’d done with anyone in years, and as he began to chew, you pressed yourself against his back, chin on his shoulder.
It hadn’t been more than a half hour since you’d stepped foot into his house, but every minute that passed reconfirmed what you already knew: when it came to Joel, you were in trouble. It was more than attraction, more than interest - the level of comfort and ease you felt when you were with him was unfamiliar to you, and you could only wonder if he felt similar. He wouldn’t be letting this happen if he didn’t. “It’s real good.” He reached for your wrist with one of his hands, bringing your fingers back up to his mouth and pressing his lips against the pads of them, the tip of his tongue darting out to remove the salt there. “Guess I gotta keep you around, hmm?”
“Guess so.” I want you to. “I’ve got some very useful skills, Joel.” He laughed quietly, the man’s shoulder’s shaking. “Ready to go into the other room?” He agreed, waiting until you straightened up to hand you the bowl.
“Want a beer?” He gestured to the fridge, eyes on you. “Tommy said this batch is good, but -”
“Popcorn, a movie and a beer?” Widening your eyes and holding your free hand to your chest, you gasped. “Joel, you’re going to spoil me.”
“Guess that’s a yes, then.” While he reached for those, you headed back into the living room. Setting the bowl down next to the bag you’d brought, you spread the DVD cases out on the table, figuring that you’d let Joel choose. “Here.” He appeared moments later, holding out two cups. “Take these an’ I’ll get the movie goin’.”
You wanted to take a drink from one of the containers, but held off, instead settling back against the cushions and watching as he eyed the movies on the table. “You pick. I honestly don’t care what we watch.” His hand hovered over the cases, for long moments before he chose - The Hangover - and stepped toward the TV, turning everything on. Good choice.
“Mind if I sit with you?” He had one hand on his hip and his head cocked to the side as the DVD load screen popped up. “Know there’s a chair, but - “
“Plenty of room right next to me.” Giving him a smile, you shifted so that there was more room between you and the arm of the couch, staring up at him. “But only if you don’t mind me leaning up against you.” He didn’t speak, instead dropping onto the cushion and immediately throwing an arm around your shoulders, the remote held in that hand. Guess he doesn’t mind. You waited until he pushed play and set the remote down before you handed him one drink and then grabbed for the popcorn bowl, settling it into your lap.
The first part of the movie played without the two of you speaking - though you both laughed a few times, eyes focused on the screen while you periodically reached for the popcorn and sipped your drinks. You felt yourself relaxing, the apprehension about your visit disappearing as the movie went on. He kept his arm around you as you watched, Joel’s laugh rumbling through his whole body.
You felt a pang in your chest at the first sight of the brightly lit Vegas skyline, the streets crowded with people and cars, and for the first time since the movie began you spoke. “Did you ever go to Vegas, Joel?” He took a deep breath before he answered, his arm tightening around your shoulders briefly before it loosened.
“Once. Me an’ Tommy rented some Harleys on a birthday trip, rode across the country. Drove up north from Austin to Oklahoma City an’ then went west. Hit a bunch of places in New Mexico an’ Arizona, and then decided to spend a night in Vegas before we kept goin’ to LA.” It didn’t surprise you - you’d seen Tommy on a motorcycle more than once, and he’d mentioned riding out west when he was younger, but the thought of Joel on the back of a bike, carefree and enjoying a few weeks of adventure with his brother made your chest tighten further. “It was … busy. Loud. Lotta fun.”
“Wonder what it looks like now.” You cleared your throat, chewing on your lower lip. “Wonder if any of the hotels are still -”
“Probably. It was a QZ for a while, at least. We used to hear about ‘em in Boston. Good place to hide, y’know? Lots of beds and rooms for people to stay in. Easy enough to cut the rooms off from street level, keep people safe.” It made sense, and hearing the matter of fact way he spoke about one of the world’s former most popular places to visit was yet another reminder of everything that you’d lost - of everything that had ceased. “Gotta be hard, though. There’s not much water. Be hard to grow crops or keep animals alive there.”
“I didn’t even think of that.” Your eyes were back on the screen, watching as the group started trying to piece the previous night together. “You’d think it would be saferbecause it’s in the middle of nowhere, and nothing could survive outside of the walls, but then … surviving inside could be just as hard.” You realized it then - how lucky you were to have made it to and stayed in Jackson. It got cold in the winter, sure, but there were plenty of natural resources, the opportunity to grow and raise your food in the wild, and the mountains shielded much of the city from danger in at least one direction. “Still, though … would be fucking cool to see, right? Even without the lights. All those machines and the money? Chicago had some really tall buildings, but I think after so long, seeing so many would…”
You trailed off, thinking. Idaho Falls and Salt Lake City were the two largest cities you’d laid eyes on since your arrival in Wyoming, and none of them compared in scope or scale to ChicagoorVegas. “It would.” He shifted next to you, sliding lower on the cushions, his face closer to level with yours. “We’d be rich after about ten minutes. Breakin’ into one of the casinos for more money’n we could carry.” It would be worthless, but you aren’t wrong. Turning your head toward his, you laughed, meeting his eyes. “Be as rich as all these actors used to be. Millions of dollars just for showin’ up to work and readin’ a script.”
“Some of them were really good, Joel!” Clicking your tongue at him, you waited while he rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Bradley Cooper was funny.And he’s not in this one, but Charlie whatever his name was, the one from Horrible Bosses that was in that comedy show, too? He was great.And then you had people like Hugh Jackman, and Brad Pitt and Nicolas Cage, and -” Holy shit I haven’t thought of any of these names in a long fucking time.
“Jennifer Aniston was real good looking.” He raised an eyebrow. ‘You been namin’ a lot of guys, but -”
“Not the ones that I think are … were attractive, Joel, just…” Taking a moment to think, you wrinkled your nose. “Yeah, alright. A lot of them were pretty good looking, but -”
“What was that one’s name? She…” He frowned, thinking. “She was in those superhero movies? Normally blonde, but I think she had red hair, and -” He wet his lips, glancing down at your body and then back up. “Big chest, and -”
“You definitely did not like her for her acting, Joel.” Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “I can’t remember her name, but I know who you’re talking about.” He hummed in agreement and the two of you went back to watching the movie, but after a few minutes, you interrupted the silence again. “Do … you think any of them made it? The ones from Hollywood, I mean. The famous people from before?”
You didn’t know why you were asking. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. If celebrities or other public figures had survived, you’d probably know nothing about it, especially after the collapse of communications across the world. There was no more phone, no more Internet. You had no news broadcasts on TV, and there certainly weren’t blockbuster movie releases. They would have just been surviving… like us. “I’ve never come across any.” His hand was moving slowly over the top of your arm, fingers massaging the meat of your shoulder. “Not on the way from Texas east, or even in Boston.” He paused. “Not on the way here with Ellie, either.”
“Me either.” Shifting, you tilted your head to one side, letting it rest against his arm, your right hand settled on his knee. “We didn’t leave Illinois til almost a year after the outbreak, though. So by then… by then most people were …” Turned. Changed. Gone into hiding. “And we tried to avoid people on the way here.”
“Smart. You said you went north first, right? Wanted to go around Kansas?” He remembered. It made your heart pound that he’d remembered the detail of your trip west and why, and you told him as much after confirming that he was right. “Middle of the country’s no fun no matter what route you take. Was impressed when you told me ‘bout your trip.” Yeah?“Bet some of ‘em made it. The ones that had places to go and hide, away from everyone? Might not have made it to now, but they probably survived a while before they had to come outta their safe houses an’ try to find food and all that.”
It was a sobering thought - that people like you and Joel and Tommy and Maria had outlasted so many others, including the ones that had formally been considered untouchable. “Maybe they’re all still in places like New York and California, or on those little private islands off the coasts of bigger countries.” He shrugged.
“New York City’s gone.” Joel’s tone was flat, and you knew that he wouldn’t say much about it. “Me an’ Ellie… we passed it. And … there’s no people there. Not anymore.” It was chilling, but you trusted that he was telling you the truth - because he had no reason to lie to you about it. “Lots of shit’s gone, right?”
“We’re not.” You tightened your fingers against his leg. “But I didn’t mean to make this sad, Joel. I just started thinking about all of this because of the movie.”
“Why are you apologizing?” He said your name, waiting until you’d angled your head so that you could look at him, to continue. “I’m the one that brought up my date, so I opened the door.” You opened the door to your past, not world history. “And besides, we’re all from different places, seen different things in the last 20 years. I know shit you don’t, so…” He was right, but you still stayed quiet, even though you didn’t lift your head from his shoulder until the movie ended, Joel laughing as the credits rolled. “That the kind of stuff you have on yourcamera?”
“Absolutely not. Not even before the outbreak, when I was in college. My friends and I had fun, but not that much fun.” You were sitting straight up, Joel’s arm removed from your shoulders for the first time in nearly two hours. “And I never got a chance to make it to Vegas, so … no, Joel. No strippers, professional boxers, zoo animals or drugs on my camera. Sorry to disappoint you.” He looked like he wanted to say something in response, but instead the man only stood up, holding his hand out to you. What?
“Come on, let’s sit outside. Got a porch, and it’d be a shame not to use it.” You had doubts, but still stood, stretching your arms out above your head. “Need anything?” No, not right now.
“I’m good for right now, thanks. Maybe before I leave.” You didn’t know when that would be, but figured it wouldn’t be late, and since the movie was already over you didn’t want him to think you were overstaying your welcome. He led you out the front door and onto the porch, gesturing for you to take a seat at the small table - much like the two of you had done on your balcony earlier in the week.
It was still nice out, and even though the sun was completely down, the dark gathering around the town, you could feelthe calm around you. Joel sat first, the porch light behind his head, but the man didn’t look at you, instead staring out and into the darkness of the street. “You know you don’t have to leave.” He slowly turned toward you, lips pushed out into an expression that was half scowl, half frown, the lines between his brows deep. “If Ellie’s gonna be gone all night, there’s not a -”
“The neighbors will talk Joel.” Gesturing with one hand, you rolled your eyes. “A woman staying the night?” You were trying to lighten the mood, winking at the end of your sentence. “I’m sure they’d all have a -”
“Let ‘em talk.” He wet his lips.”Ain’t like you an’ me are gonna put on a show on this porch, so … they’ll have to make up anything they say.” Biting back a smile at that, you eyed him, waiting to see if he’d say anything else. “I wasn’t kiddin’ the other night when I said that I didn’t plan on this.” He used one large hand to indicate the space between you, and all you could do was nod. “We’ve only been here a couple months, and I’ve just been … tryin’ to get settled. Get to know some people, figure out if we can -”
“You and Ellie can have a life here, Joel.” You interrupted, though it wasn’t unkind. “Even if this goes nowhere, or… if it does and it doesn’t work out. As long as the two of you want to be here, Jackson can and will be your home. I told you that when I gave you guys the tour, and I meant it.” He watched you silently, dark eyes fixed on your face. “You found your brother again. Anything else that comes from this is just …” You paused, wanting to get the expression right, even though you hadn’t used it in years. “Frosting on the cake. Wait, that’s not… icing on the cake.”
“This is already goin’ somewhere, though.” He looked torn, and as he continued to speak, you realized it was because he wasn’t used to being so honest with his emotions. “You’re here, in my house. We’re friends. This isn’t… it’s not just …”
“Things are different now.” You knew that you didn’t need to tell him that, that the man knew that sex and friendship and everything that came with it were vastly changed from the way they’d been before. But he needs to know. He needs to hear it from someone that’s lived it the way people here have. “It’s not … yes. I feel differently about you than I do about the other people that have come to Jackson throughout the years. I’d like it to be more, to see what happens between us over time. And we could do that here. We could get to know each other, have nights like tonight, or go and have a drink at the bar, or even go out on rides and patrols together. But we don’t haveto.”
“What are you sayin’?” He leaned in, twisting in his seat so that both elbows were on the table between you. “Because I don’t -”
“Jackson’s safe, Joel. Probably one of the safest places in the country, to be honest, but shit still happens. People still get sick, or bitten or lost. People still get angry and hurt. And a lot of people use those things as excuses not to get close. It makes sense. Why get close to someone if the chance that you’re gonna lose them somehow is high?” Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you thought for a few seconds. “It’s easier to be with someone if the stakes aren’t raised. Take emotions out of the equation. It’s just sex. It’s just physical. It’s just … a transaction that meets a basic human need. People here do it all the time. Tommy and Maria are an exception. They fell in love and got married, but they know the risks of going that far, just like we all do.”
“You sound like you’ve been on both sides of this.” He blinked. “Am I right?” You thought of Charlie then, the way that the man’s eyes hadn’t given anything away when he’d told you he was leaving, his voice firm but resigned as he explained what the next part of his life would involve.
“Yeah.” Covering your mouth with one hand, you averted your eyes, looking down at the uneven boards beneath your feet. “Yeah, I have.”
“Do you wanna tell me about it?” It was uncharted territory for you, and you knew it. Joel asking about your previous relationships was personal, just as him telling you anything about his in more than passing mention would be. “You don’t have to, but -”
“I’ve been with a handful of guys since I got here.” Rip the bandaid off. Just do it. “Most of them just like you and Penny - just because we both needed it and it was convenient. It was… I was a little reckless when I first got here, still reeling from losing my sister, and feeling like Jackson wouldn’t last, or that my time was limited. There were still people coming in and out then, people that would stay a few weeks or months on their way to wherever, and …” You shrugged. “There were still condoms then, too. Birth control. Plan B. Stuff like that was easy to find, especially in a place like this because it never … Jackson wasn’t ever vacant or looted, and it was easy enough to go out into the hospitals and stuff around here and get the extras. No one was stealing birth control implants or morning after pills or condoms, because they were focused on actual medical supplies.”
“Makes sense. Whenever we were goin’ through stores and buildings, there was always the same stuff left, the shit that wasn’t useful to people except in a handful of situations.” Nodding in reply, you took a deep breath.
“Yeah. But eventually that all expired. Condoms first. Then the pills. People started having to be more careful with what they did and who they did it with.” You grinned at Joel. “I was one of the lucky ones that had gotten a copper IUD a few months before the outbreak. I knew that I was good for years, but I was always extra careful, you know?” You wrinkled your nose. “The last thing I wanted to do was put myself or anyone else in danger because I got myself pregnant while we were trying to fortify this place.” He nodded, still studying you. “And, just as an FYI, Joel, I do still have an implant in. It’s newer, the third one, actually, and even though it was technically expired, since it’s non-hormonal, there’s nothing to gobad. It’s sort of an untested theory, but the doctors here, with everything they’ve read? It should still be effective to a degree.”
“You tellin’ me you want to test that out?” He smirked at you, one eyebrow raised. “Seems kind of dangerous.”
“It is. But, I’m not the only one that’s chosen to keep replacing them like this. So far, none of us have gotten pregnant, and some of them are having a ton more sex than I am. We’re doing our own clinical trials in Jackson, I guess. A few women have gotten their tubes tied since the world went to shit, but we don’t like doing unnecessary procedures here, so… it is what it is, and it’s … good to have some peace of mind in case of accidents.” The time for jokes had ended, and you knew that it was time to bring Charlie up by name - getting into the difficult part of the conversation. “And as for testing it?” Using one knuckle, you rubbed at the bottom of your nose, taking a breath. “It’s been years since I’ve done that, because it’s been years since I was with anyone that I’d take a chance like that with.”
You didn’t know how he’d respond to that, but Joel let out a quiet “oh”, his eyes going wide. It hadn’t been that long since you’d been with anyone, which you were quick to tell him, but none of the men since had meant as much to you as the man you’d been with for nearly two years, the dark-haired charmer just a little younger than you that had shown up with a small group a decade after you’d gotten to Jackson. The first man that I think I loved.
“Charlie was from Erie, Pennsylvania. He and a bunch of other people managed to survive for years without leaving the area because they were able to fortify a state park. It… It was like a peninsula, and they isolated themselves from the mainland, kept infected and dangerous humans from crossing. They built houses, got food from the lake, and were able to go back and forth when they needed for supplies by boat and by car.” Joel nodded, listening intently. “They traded with another group that had done the same thing on the other end of the lake, the western part of Ohio? I guess there’s some small islands out there, so they had a good thing going between them for a long time.”
“Why’d they leave? Seems safe and pretty convenient.” It was.
“There was a really bad storm one winter, and a lot of what they built got destroyed. They tried to rebuild, and couldn’t, so they made the decision to leave, to try and see if the people on the other islands had room for them. It was only about fifty people, but… they couldn’t take everyone in. And so Charlie and some others kept moving west. They didn’t want big cities, and they were trying to make it all the way to the west coast, because there’s no ice storms there. But when they got to Jackson, they … they decided to stay.”
“And that’s when you met ‘em.” You nodded. “Had to be a hard trip. Especially so late on.” Joel frowned. “But you’re not with -”
“Everything was good. It was nice to have new people around again. More help. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but ten new people coming in changed so much for us. We had the room, we had the supplies, and we finally had another real doctor. It was … a good few years.” It had been. For the first time, you’d found true happiness, a reason to get up each day that wasn’t just survival. “I met Charlie the same way I met you - giving them a tour of the city, but I didn’t even try to hide how interested I was in him from the beginning. We hit it off. I lived closer to downtown then, and he was in the same building as I was, so we saw each other all the time. I thought … for a while, that we’d end up like Tommy and Maria, but … it didn’t get to that point.”
“What happened?” He reached out, taking your hand and running his thumb slowly over the back of it. “He get -”
“He left Jackson.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, though it was smaller than you’d thought it would be. “We were together for two years, and then he just … left.”
“Left?” Joel’s confusion was nearly tangible. “Why?”
“He never gave up on heading west. Never gave up on getting to the coast. He asked me to go with him, said that we’d be happier in a place where it never got cold, that there was no snow, that we could wake up every morning and see the ocean.” You wet your lips before they twisted into a sarcastic smile. “Said that we’d only have to fend off attacks from one direction instead of every direction, and that he was leaving Jackson with a small group that wanted the same thing.”
“But you didn’t go.” I didn’t. “Why?”
“This is my home. Maria is my family. I loved Charlie, but not … not enough to try my luck for another thousand miles without knowing what was waiting for me there.” You often wondered what had happened to the man and the group - wondered if they’d made it to California, wondered what they’d found there. “It’s safe here. We have a community. I have a life. I gave that up once because I had to, to survive, and I didn’t want to do it again. Ever.” You didn’t blame the man for leaving. You couldn’t, because you understood the appeal, understood what it meant to see the ocean again, to go as far as you could across the country and make a home in a place where there wouldn’t be snow or ice or as many people or threats. “But he was the last person that I really let myself get attached to, Joel. And now I don’t know what happened to him. I watched him walk out of the main gates and he didn’t even look back.”
“Well, you and I know it’s possible that they made it to where they were goin’.” Joel squeezed your hand. “We both made it all the way across this damn country, so there’s no reason to think they didn’t make it the rest of the way.” You liked to think that - liked to picture Charlie waking up every day and looking out at the Pacific with some of the others nearby. “I’m sorry that he left you here.”
“I didn’t think he would. I guess I really…” You frowned. “No, I hoped he wouldn’t. It was nice not being alone, knowing that someone cared about me. But it’s been years since they set out, and I’m still here, never had any interest in heading out after them, so…” So I guess I didn’t want to be with him as much as I thought.
“There was a woman, after the outbreak?” Joel pulled his hand from yours, running his fingers through his hair and then gripping the back of his neck. “I tried not to let myself get attached to anyone becausea what happened to my daughter and how much that fuckin’ hurt.” He’d mentioned Sarah by name to you previously, and Tommy had also spoken about her, but you knew not to press. “And for a while, I didn’t. Did the same as you. Sex was sex and it didn’t last, most people were gone after a few days or weeks, but when we got to Boston? Met her and everything … it was all different.” Boston? A woman? Does he mean - “Tess an’ I worked well together. We got along. She understood my sense of humor, and didn’t take shit from anyone. I liked her. Before we even got anywhere near a bed, I liked her.”
Joel was staring out into the darkness, one thumb rubbing at the knuckle of the other as he held his hands together. It was a difficult subject for him, and you knew that whatever he told you came at a price for the man. Ellie liked Tess. They started out together, they… You knew that she’d died before the trio had even left Boston, but hadn’t gotten all of the details. Might get them now.
“She called me Texas. Donno when that started, but I remember she called me Texas one day while we were out on a supply run, and it … I kissed her. Came outta her mouth and I just went for it, and after that that’s just the way it was between us. We never called it anything, and it didn’t change how we worked together, but I think she loved me, and I loved her… and I think we shoulda said it but we never did.” Shit. I called him that same thing when we first met, but it was just because that’s what I called Tommy in the beginning, too.
“I’m sure she knew.” It was your turn to reach out, one hand settling on the man’s arm. “Even if you didn’t ever say it, I’m sure she knew.” How could she not? You could see the pain etched into his features as he spoke about the woman. Even though you’d only known him for a little while, and you were certain that things had been different when he was in Boston, there was no way he’d been able to keep everything from a woman that he’d had an extended relationship of any sort with. Because he can’t do it with me now and he’s only known me for months.
“I wanted to tell her. Was going to right before me an’ Ellie … when she said she’d stay behind to give us a chance to get out, but she …” He curled his lip, drumming his fingers on the table. “She asked me to make it easy for her because she knew she was already done, and so I didn’t. Because if I’d said it, she would have said it back and then -” Then you never would have left her, and you might not have made it here.
“That’s love, Joel. She did something selfless for you and Ellie. She knew. If she said that to you, she knew exactly what she was asking you not to say.” The man’s feelings for the woman were still raw, and you knew it would be that way for a long time. It’s barely been a year. “I’m sorry you lost her. I think she would have liked it here. She would have fit right in the same way you and Ellie have.”
He stared at you for a few moments, the man’s eyes focused, brow furrowed deeply. What? What did I say? It was the truth - and if he’d shown up with a woman, you would have simply done your job and introduced them to the community, helping them to get settled and start their new lives together. You would have found him attractive, of course, but you wouldn’t have acted on it, which would have put the two of you into a very different set of circumstances. “She would have. Would have been real different for her here than in Boston, though.” That was also true, but over time, they would have both adjusted, falling into the daily routine with relative ease. “She woulda liked you. You would have gotten along real well.”
“Maybe.” Raising both brows and blowing out a breath, you crossed one leg over your knee, pulling the hand that was on his arm back. “Maybe not. Women have a 6th sense, Joel. And It’s no secret that I’m attracted to you, so even if I wouldn’t have done anything about it, she might not have been too happy to know.” He laughed then, the sound carrying away from you and into the darkness. It was a good sound, loosening the tightness in your chest that had been slowly growing over the course of the conversation. “Thank you for telling me about her, though. I feel like … I know you a little better now.”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a quiet cough. “Guess you do.” The two of you sat on the porch, a slight breeze blowing through the dangling pieces of his wind chimes and creating a gentle tinkling noise. It was peaceful, even though you didn’t know what to say next, and as you replayed the conversation in your head, you lifted one hand to the side of your neck, gripping it.
You’d both shared something deeply intimate about yourselves that night, blurring the last line of defense that you had up between the two of you further. Tess and Charlie. Me telling him about the people I’ve been with. Talking about how we see relationships and attachments. “You’ve got no plans of leaving Jackson, do you.” It wasn’t a question, but you still answered it as though it was. “You said you loved Charlie and you still -”
“If I had to leave, yeah. I want to live, Joel. So if it was a matter of life and death, yes. I’d be out of here as fast as possible. But for something uncertain? For a chance of something different somewhere else? No. Going to California isn’t as simple as getting on a plane and then coming back after a couple days at Disneyland. That’s a commitment. Going that far from here means never coming back. And all of the people and things that I love are right here in Jackson, so why would I go anywhere else?”
“You said you loved him, and he’s not here anymore.” Joel wasn’t pulling any punches, and you respected him for it, though it didn’t make the man’s statement any easier to answer.
“He’s not. And I did. I won’t lie, Joel, it hurt for a long time, but I got over it, and now it’s just … another leaning experience in a long, long line of them. I hope they made it. And I hope he found someone out there that he can spend the rest of his time with, no matter how long that time is.” Too much. You stood, raising a hand to point at the front door. “If it’s alright, I’m going to in and get something to drink real quick before I go home. This whole conversation changed the -”
“You can get whatever you want to drink, but I meant it - you don’t need to leave. You can stay. We’ve got plenty of movies to pick from if you want to watch another one, or there’s a couple board games in the closet. I even think there’s a full deck of cards in one of the kitchen drawers.” He wants me to stay. Even after all that. He wants me to stay here with him.
“Joel…” Closing your eyes, you inhaled, holding your breath. “This is all new for both of us, right?”
“Yeah, I haven’t had much time to date over the past couple years, especially with bringin’ Ellie from Boston, so…” He looked up at you, head cocked sharply to the side. “Sorry if I’m a little rusty when it comes to makin’ small talk.” It was a good sign - he was still trying to joke with you, to lighten the overall tone of the situation, especially after both of you had dredged up difficult parts of your past in a relatively short period of time. This isn’t going to happen overnight. He needs time to get used to being here. He needs time to figure out how he feels about the idea of… trying to live normally.
You leaned against the door frame, letting your eyes wander to the road and then back to him, one arm crossed over your belly, hand holding onto your opposite elbow. “This is a good thing, you know.” You saw the confusion on his face, nodding as you continued. “Joking. Flirting. Having a movie night -”
“Me an’ Ellie have movie nights all the time. She didn’t get to see a lot of them in Boston, so I’m showing her the ones I can, somea my favorites.” Good.“But… yeah. I know what you mean.” He stood then, taking a few cautious steps toward you and running one hand through the hair at the back of his head. “I want … to believe that this can last. That this place is going to be better than Boston or Texas or anywhere else I’ve been in the last 20 years.” He closed his eyes, frowning. “I want to be like you, like Tommy an’ Maria. I want to give Ellie a place to grow up where she can be a kid for a couple more years at least.”
“This is that place, Joel. This is the best chance that I know of for that. It happens for all of us eventually. The danger isn’t gone, but it’s… less. Jackson isn’t perfect, and neither are the people, but if you stay here long enough, you… you’ll wake up one day and just feel… better. About everything.” That was true, too, and you needed him to know it. “I’ve been here, I’ve seen it. And I’ve seen the way you and Ellie are now compared to the way you were before, and there’s already a difference.”
“You helped. Both of us.” He moved again, closing the distance and partially blocking the light from behind him. “Showin’ us around. Being at Tommy an’ Maria’s. All those times we talked in town or at your place.” Joel wet his lips. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been around anyone for long enough to start trustin’ them, but you have no reason to lie to us, so… I trust you. And that means Ellietrusts you, too.” Good.“I understand if I crossed a line today, when I took a crack at your -”
“You didn’t. It’s the truth. He’s not in Jackson anymore, and it doesn’t do me any good to worry about where he is now or how he’s doing.” That was something that had taken you months to admit to - and even longer to be okwith. “I loved him, but we didn’t love each other enough to figure out a way to make it work. He moved on - so I had to, too. We made our choices, same as everyone else.” And now… “And now I’m here, and you’re here, and we’re standing on this porch together.”
“We are.” You realized with some surprise that while you’d been speaking, you’d reached out, linking your fingers with his, the man’s palm dwarfing yours as they pressed together. “And I’ve got nowhere else I plan on goin’.” You didn’t know what he was angling for with his final comment, but it still filled you with hope. He’s telling me he’s staying just like I told him I planned to. If Joel was talking about staying in Jackson permanently, that was a good thing. He wants Ellie to grow up here. He wants her to have a life. He doesn’t want to be on the move anymore. “Well… except for the places I’m told to go, y’know? Supply runs and patrols, and -”
“We’re all at the mercy of Tommy and Maria Miller’s instructions.” You rolled your eyes, leaning closer. “Especially when it comes to Jackson.” His lips curved upward into a smirk, Joel winking at you as he tightened his fingers around yours. “But that’s good to know. I’d hate to see you ride out of here again not knowing if you planned on coming back.”
“Why’s that?” His voice dropped slightly, the sound thick and slow, his accent more pronounced and reminding you of the way that Tommy’s had been when he’d first arrived. I hope he never loses that.
“I’d like it if you stayed here for a long time, Joel. You and Ellie, but…” You raised your free hand, pressing it to the center of his chest. “Definitely you.” He stared down at you, chest rising and falling beneath your hand. “I want to stay here tonight. And I’m happy to do that even if it’s just watching another movie and falling asleep on the couch with you.” Here goes nothing. “But I’d prefer your bed, because…” He surprised you, pulling his hand free from yours and sliding it along your hip, his fingertips resting just inside the top of your back pocket. “Because we’d both enjoy it. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned through all of this, it’s that if you wait for things to happen, they sometimes don’t.” You flexed your fingers, gathering the material of his shirt between them. “So I’m being direct with you and telling you that if you want to go to bed with me tonight, I won’t turn you down.”
It was quite the shift in conversation, but it was something that you felt needed to be said. You’d been interested in Joel for months, the kisses you’d shared on the mountain doing nothing but stoking the flames and making your desire burn hotter, especially with the man right in front of you.”I’m no good at this.” He sighed out the words, lowering his head slightly so that he could speak into your ear. “Wasn’t lyin’ when I said that I was rusty. With Penny, it -”
“I’m not Penny. You don’t need to compare us.” It stung, even though you knew that it shouldn’t have. “And she didn’t complain. Talked all about you at the bar, seemed more than happy to go back a second time, and definitely wanted a third, too.” Swallowing hard, you forced a smile. “So whatever it was you did, it was something righ-”
“I ain’t comparing you to her. And just because I showed her a good time doesn’t mean that it was right.” He said your name, his fingers curled against your skin. “Don’t know her. Didn’t really want to, or try to. And if that makes me an asshole, it is what it is.” You felt for the woman at his admission, but at the same time didn’t,because she’d gotten a Joel that you never would: the man raw and needy from months on the road, desperate for the comfort of someone’s arms just to relieve the tension, even a little. “I’m trying with this. I want to. With … you.”
That froze you - the man’s voice strong, words earnest - the slight inhale before he said the final one cutting straight into your heart, where it had no business being so easily. I know you are. I can tell. And I appreciate it. “Say the word, Joel.” Your heart pounding against the back of your ribs, you focused on his face, the man’s eyes boring into you. “Tell me that you -”
“No.” It was sharp, his voice raised slightly as he pulled you even closer. “Not gonna tell you. Let me show you how much I want you.”
Summary: “If you choose to join us, you won’t be independent vigilantes anymore, you’ll be part of the Heroics. You watch our backs, and we’ll watch yours.”
Warnings: A ridiculously self-indulgent Superhero AU, Heavily inspired by Justice League Unlimited (aka my favorite childhood cartoon), Language, Angst, Reader has anger issues, Reader has a superhero name but no physical characteristics, Canon? I hardly know her, Worldbuilding
Author Note: I binge marathoned JLU and I remembered how much I loved it. Then, me being me, I turned it into a fic featuring lots of Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe characters Hope somebody out there enjoys this! I’m about 85% done with the story, so another update should be coming soon!
Also shout out to @brandyllyn for suggesting Blond Arrow for William Garin’s superhero alias. I just love the mental image of Pero grumbling every time he says it And thank you so much @beecastle for putting up with my longwinded rants and self-doubts and for always being super supportive. And also, perhaps most importantly, coming up with Javi G’s name Loop
I am loving this! Such a good idea and so well done. Please tag me in the updates.
Am loving Eggsy and how we’ve only had a teaser of Din. I don’t know why but the idea of Shadowman refusing to be seen outside of his costume tickled me. Him just grumpily walking about in a full costume, all the time.
A/N:I have been wanting to challenge myself to write a drabble a day for a whole month for quite some time now, and I finally decided to just go for it. The goal is to fill every prompt on this listby@creativepromptsforwriting with a short one shot (500 - 2k words) by the end of June. Can I do it? I do not know. But let’s find out! Kicking it off with a flashback for Ezra and Clara from the PoNR universe, because no one else comes to mind so quickly when I hear “fairytale”.
Word Count: 1,816
Warnings: slight hint at smut but nothing explicit - Ezra is one charming little shit and he knows it.
Summary: Clara tells Ezra another one of Kamrea’s constellation myths about Kevva and the depth of her love.
Ezra’s thumb swept slowly over the base of Clara’s wrist as she spoke, his fingers laced through hers and latched over her knuckles.
“…Hixeo thought that he had finally found a way to punish her for the crime of loving Kamrea more than she loved him. He had his loyal jata bahlu dig up a hundred boulders from the rocky terrain of the moon -” Clara raised the hand that was not joined with Ezra’s to point out divots on the lunar surface - “and then as the sand bear slept, he threw them down, bombarding Kevva’s beloved planet with them, trying to destroy all the beauty that she had created here.”
The deep purple sky was clearest at the tail end of the Harvest season. On those nights, when Ezra was home with her instead of spending his cycles on Bahkroma’s Green Moon, the two of them would sprawl themselves out in the clearing between the Thulian fields, backs to the ground and their eyes on the stars while Clara used the constellations to teach him the folktales and myths that she grew up hearing. It was a tradition that started the very first season that he spent there on Kamrea, and while Ezra always listened intently, enraptured with the stories about deities in the stars and the way that Clara told them, he also always found a way to connect the magic and the legends back to the two of them and his love for her.
Rating: M. Some swearing, just a little angst. (a mention of some spice but nothing graphic)
Summary:Dieter’s gone, but that doesn’t mean you’re not in contact. But with him on the other side of an ocean, you’re free to pay more attention to your surroundings - and growing discontent with the rest of the cast.
Author’s note:
This chapter (and the next) are much different than the others in this story - and have been a challenge to write. Please enjoy.
You felt much better the following morning, especially when you woke up to the feeling of Dieter kissing your stomach, the man kneeling over your legs, the weight of his body suspended above you on his elbows. He’d pushed your shirt up to give himself access to your skin, and he hadn’t showered or shaved while you slept, meaning that his hair was still sleep-wild, making it much fluffier than usual. “Morning, Dieter.” You hummed out his name as you stretched, bringing a hand up to cover your yawn. “What time is it?”
A/N:Thank you all SO MUCH for the encouraging feedback on the first part of this series. I am going to be responding to some of the comments and reblogs that I didn’t get to in the next few days, but for now I want you to know that I truly appreciate anyone who has read and will read this story. This one doesn’t have a ton of Joel, but I promise you the next chapter does. ;)
Warnings: language, weapons, discussion of illness, death and loss, general canon-typical apocalyptic hell. A close up of Joel Miller’s face.
Word Count:5,304
Summary:When Tommy and Joel said that they would bring you back to “Jackson”, you had no way of knowing what would be waiting for you once you got there. Finding the town to be far more than you ever imagined, you are faced with a major decision - after so much time on the road, are you ready to try to put down roots?
Joel had told you the truth - the ride back with him and Tommy hadn’t been longer than an hour. You hadn’t encountered any more infected, the cluster of them that you’d put down earlier seemingly the only ones currently wandering these woods, and the two men and their horses were extremely familiar with the route, so you’d reached the main gate just as the sun was starting to make its way behind the mountains. And though you’d seen the time-ravaged and weather-beaten sign about a mile back, though you’d read the chipped, barely legible words, you were still stunnedat what you were looking at.
This wasn’t a settlement. Or a camp. It wasn’t a rogue group of survivors huddled together in an abandoned building. This is a whole goddamn town.
The way you paint a picture with words is amazing. Simply amazing
Letting out a long breath, you slowly opened your eyes. When you tilted your head back to look up you found that Joel’s were waiting. In the dying light of late afternoon - at arm’s length - his eyes were a softer shade of nutty brown, not quite as dark as they seemed behind the barrel of his rifle. You noticed the accordion fold of crows feet that fanned out from the corners of them, and the deep ravine of an old scar cutting across the bridge of his nose. At this distance you saw the patches in his beard and the windburned skin of his cheeks directly above the line of his facial hair, and despite the way your mind was blown to bits by everything you’d seen since the town gates had opened, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was noticing about you for the first time. The exact color of your eyes? Or the silvery strands that muted the original tone of your hair? Was that little hike of his eyebrow caused by the fact that he’d just found the thin scar that struck top to bottom through both of your lips? Was he following the creases in your skin the same way that you’d involuntarily done to his?
A/N: I have been wanting to challenge myself to write a drabble a day for a whole month for quite some time now, and I finally decided to just go for it. The goal is to fill every prompt on this listby@creativepromptsforwriting with a short one shot (500 - 2k words) by the end of June. Can I do it? I do not know. But let’s find out! - Today’s prompt goes to a character who I desperately need to get back to, Pedro Across the Street… or in this case Gabe, because this flashback one shot is related to The Long Con (part one here). Pats talking to Patrick about the “pig blankets” in Calls stuck with me, I guess.
Summary: A flashback to a different job a few years before your current one, when you and Gabe were playing different roles, before either of you had been honest with each other about how you felt, neither of you ready to suggest taking your criminal professional relationship to a more personal level.
No one really knows their neighbors. Not allof them, anyway. And the ones that they think they know? Like Jeff two doors down who mows his lawn every weekend, Charlotte with her political bumper stickers from four election cycles ago or the Hendersons and their picture perfect holiday display that goes up every December? All they really know about those people starts and ends with the superficial basics - the things that they want you to see, that they decide to let you in on or try to fool you into believing.
Jeff could have ties to the deep web. Charlotte might be stealing from the PTA. And who knows what the Hendersons and all their lights, wreaths and tinsel were trying to hide.
Most suburbanites were happy to toss half-hearted waves and nods at one another from their porches and mailboxes. They were satisfied with recognizing the cars that inhabited the driveways on either side of their own, somehow equating knowing what their neighbors drove to knowing anything real about them. The illusion of conversation and camaraderie was far more palatable than actually achieving those things.
Rating:There’s only like one or two instances of language, everything else is very tame - this is a first date, after all.
Summary:Your first date with Javi brings up some uncomfortable topics, but at least you’re being honest … right?
Author’s note:
I’m still unsure of where this one is going - but I’m having fun so I’m not going to complain. I am really happy that the intro was so well received, and I hope that you enjoy this part just as much. Javi is a lot of fun to write - and I’ve been trying to balance that playful, child-like charm that we see throughout most of the movie with what we learn about him in the end … it’s challenging. I welcome questions, concerns and criticism - so don’t be shy!
You were outside of the restaurant at 6:40 on Friday, second guessing whether or not you even wanted to go in.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Javi - it was that you regretted making the suggestion in the first place. Javi telling you that he was staying on the Upper West Side should have been your first clue to the man’s status. The offer to send a car for you should have been the second. But I suggested it before, when I thought he was just … just some guy.
But Javi wasn’t just ‘some guy’ and a simple Internet search had confirmed the reason why you’d recognized his name and face - at least somewhat.
One of the things that I most appreciate about the Reader in your stories is that they are authentic and honest. Especially when it might be easier to tell white lies or what they think the other person might want to hear.
I look forward to Javi showing her that some things are not too good to be true
