Summary: Six months after your day in Greece, you and Joe spend a week together in Samui and get to explore the island and see if there’s something real between you.
Word count: 6.9K
Part I
“How many cities has it been this month? And how many total?” Joe asks, adjusting his AirPods.
“Five, Joe. And it’s only been one city a month. I’m not on some—”
“Biotech US tour?” He finishes for you. “Because from where I’m sitting, that’s exactly what you’re on.”
You laugh, leaning into the camera so you can put on your earrings, not even registering that he’s taking up most of the camera space. Maybe you should’ve just done this in the mirror, even though you’d been on FaceTime enough times with him the last few weeks he probably wouldn’t mind sitting on the phone while you brushed your teeth.
“I will be home in two days…” you tell him with a sigh, “…just to do this all over again and get on another plane. Have you packed yet?”
He groans, “Fuck no. I might just throw some stuff in my suitcase and call it a day.”
Looking at yourself in the mirror one more time, you lift your phone and look him in the eyes. “You cannot show up to Thailand wearing bullshit. So pack carefully, fill up that suitcase. And lift with your legs, not your back, when you put it in the car. Pro tip, and I gave it to you for free. Most have to pay for my services.”
“You think you’re so funny,” he deadpans. “I’m hanging up. You have to go anyway. Enjoy your last stop.”
All of this started back in January after you responded to his DM. Honestly, you don’t even remember the exact words you said; all that really mattered was the conversation didn’t die down after that. It was every single day, random tidbits about your day, his gym adventures in LA, and his plans to stay there throughout the offseason. He was networking with celebrities, attending parties, then there was Super Bowl week.
In San Francisco, maybe 25 minutes from your house.
Life didn’t really make way for a romantic, post-vacation reunion like it does in the movies.
You came home from Greece and went back to work full-time. When Joe was in LA, you were at the office prepping for natural science conferences, awaiting private announcements of scientific advances that start-ups were wanting to showcase and get investors like your company to buy in to advance the field and drive innovation. When the Super Bowl came to town, you were in Boston for the RESI conference, Redefining Every Stage of Investment. Its focus this year was on early-stage life sciences, things like gene therapy and plant-based proteins. Joe called it “green thumb material” and swore your job was pretty cool.
One night, you spent five hours on the phone with him, recapping the day while he gave a thorough, very detailed, physiology-filled explanation of his latest Pilates workout. This accidental quality time made you feel less bad for missing out on what would’ve been a fun week spent with him.
“Something’s different with you. Your voice sounds different,” you told him over the phone a few weeks ago, a little after the draft.
He laughed a little. “I’m happy to be back at the facility, getting to meet the new guys.”
“And…Sexy Dexy?”
“Definitely helps things,” he admitted. “I don’t know. Things feel a lot different this year already. Body feels good. But there’s a new energy and I think—I think we have a real shot.”
There was genuine joy in him, actual excitement. You listened to him talk about workouts that were coming up and how the next few weeks would be busy for you both, but things would slow down in June.
“Football is great, but I’m thinking I need one more trip before training camp. Somewhere warm, probably, adding a stamp to my passport. It’s pretty empty.”
“Joe, what are you implying?”
“Our schedules haven’t worked out. Now they do. We should go somewhere.”
“You wanna go on another vacation, and you want me to come?”
“I want us to plan a trip together. Been long enough,” he clarifies with a shrug, like this isn’t a big deal.
Maybe it wasn’t to him. Maybe planning vacations was a thing he’d done before, but this was definitely a first for you. And yet, after four months of consistently trying to convince yourself that this was a one-day fluke meeting that meant nothing, that he’d get bored and move on, yet here he was going out of his way to see you again outside the country because it clearly wasn’t working when you’d been residing in the same state for the past few months.
Between SynBioBeta and AACR in San Diego and Chicago in April and May respectively, you planned a trip to Thailand like a lunatic.
And you couldn’t wait to go.
There were several outfits laid out on the bed. Swimsuits on one side, cover-ups, nighttime clothes, a few oversized shirts and sleep shorts, and other random walking-around-the-villa-with-no-set-plans outfits. You tossed in some cute island casual wear, cute sets that would work for dinners, and some stuff that would be perfect for sightseeing. And you may or may not have packed the Alo hat and the matching set he sent you a month ago.
Again, in the back of your mind, you told yourself that it was insane that he sent you a package from his biggest sponsor. It felt weirdly intimate, but you could not let yourself dwell on the little things. Not the fact that he booked a private villa and offered to pay for your flight. You declined the second part after a lengthy discussion but compromised on the villa. It felt weird letting him pay for things for you, especially on top of spending an entire week with him in a foreign country.
You literally hadn’t breathed the same air as this man since the offseason started, half a year ago. And when you were with him, that was one day—not even a full 24 hours either. Was it gonna be weird to go to sleep next to him? To wake up next to him? What if you two realized that you’d been hanging onto this really good day and that you actually weren’t compatible outside of a phone call?
Great thing you had a 20-hour flight to think about the million questions running through your mind.
The driver waiting to take you to the resort was kind, his smile bright, your name etched neatly on the crisp white piece of paper he held for all to see. He helped you with your bag as you settled into the back seat. Everything outside looked like the epitome of a perfect postcard. The trees, the sky, the water you could see from the street—the island’s landscape was one of the Earth’s most incredible creations as far as you were concerned. There was no way this was a real place.
Joe’s text had come through as soon as you stepped off the plane, letting you know that he was waiting in the villa for you. When you got to the resort, the staff was impeccable, offering water and what seemed to be freshly squeezed juice. The offer was appreciated, but your skin was literally buzzing with excitement at getting in the room and seeing him, so you declined. One of the staff members took you to your villa via buggy, giving you a quick tour as he drove by the different activities available right where you were staying.
He gave you a business card with a phone number on it and said that your stay included unlimited service. There was a QR code you could scan for a full menu, delivered right to your door for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Midnight snacking options and a full bar, right at your fingertips. You thanked him, and he smiled and said he hoped you’d enjoy your stay.
You took a deep breath and used your key to unlock the door and wheeled your suitcase inside.
This villa was by far the nicest place you’d stayed in. Not only was the constant service at your fingertips cool, but the view was unbelievable. You felt like you’d stepped into a season of White Lotus.
That thought—and any other—evaporated into thin air when you saw him.
He was barefoot, already comfortable in his home for the week in the most simple outfit: a plain white tee and black shorts that stopped above the knee. But you stared at him anyway. Like you couldn’t believe he was actually here, waiting for you. Some deep, dark, sinister part of you thought this whole thing was still an elaborate joke, that you’d pinch yourself and wake up from this fantasy you’d conjured up in your head.
But here he was, walking toward you, and you expected a hug. Not really knowing why, but him wrapping his arms around you wasn’t a surprise.
“Hi.”
He was warm and smelled great. The cologne was probably expensive, but you stopped thinking about that long enough to say hi back. Your hand tapped his chest, right at his collarbone, and you tore your eyes away from his collar and looked up at him.
Joe didn’t waste much time after that.
Once you locked eyes, everything shifted.
His lips were on yours in a hurry, lightly tugging at your bottom lip. It was a surprise, but a good one, and you parted your lips as the kiss grew in intensity. You felt his hands roaming down to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze like he needed something to ground himself, almost as if he thought this was all in his head too.
Before you realized what you were doing, you had a fistful of his shirt, kissing him back with just as much urgency, more than making up for that almost kiss in Greece.
The kiss was more than a test in chemistry.
It was for that night he laid in bed after you left him in the street, thinking about how he should’ve asked for your number. Or on the plane when he felt like an idiot for taking an earlier flight. For the random times he’d thought about you since then. And the way he tried not to look toward the door every five minutes ever since he got to the villa.
It took every sliver of self-control he had left to come up for air.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for six months,” spilled out of his mouth before he could talk himself out of saying it.
“So have I,” you admitted with a breathless laugh, tugging him by his shirt and kissing him again.
He reciprocated, his composure slipping a little as he heard you sigh into the embrace. He had a speech planned, but he couldn’t remember a single thing he was going to say, not with you kissing him like that.
You rested your forehead on his sternum and took a deep breath before making eye contact.
Both of you just laughed.
“Glad you made it,” he said with a smirk. “Do you want a tour?”
Joe watched you nod, and you noticed him looking at your lips again, but you stepped away from him to grab your stuff that you’d forgotten about when you saw him.
Your shared place was still part of a larger resort. But there was complete privacy here. It almost felt secluded, like its own private island. This entire area—the pool, the terrace with outdoor seating, a TV in the bathroom, outside and in the main bedroom, two massive glass showers, and a floating stone double sink—all this open space was just for the two of you.
If you were to look up paradise in the dictionary, this would be pretty damn close.
“How’d you even find this place?”
Joe sighed, lips curled into a soft smile.
“I asked around. Knew some people that had been to Thailand before, and it was pretty easy from there. Pretty cool spot,” he said, looking out at the water.
“Pretty cool? Yeah, I’d say that’s the understatement of the century.”
A dry laugh escaped you in disbelief.
“I didn’t really notice how much I needed a break from…” You gestured aimlessly, unsure of how exactly to describe how exhausting being an adult with responsibilities and bills could be. “Needed a break from everything. And the company isn’t so bad, I guess.”
“You guess?”
He folded his arms over his chest, standing up straight. You knew he was trying to look intimidating, but his face gave him away. Every ounce of him was wordlessly screaming that he was thinking about kissing you again.
And Joe knew that you knew exactly what he was thinking, so he cleared his throat, adjusting his stance.
“You’ve been on a plane all day,” he said, changing the subject. “If you wanna get some rest before we explore, I don’t mind.”
“I’m not tired,” you told him quickly.
Truthfully, your entire body was still buzzing from seeing him and kissing him, and all the jet lag had practically jumped out the window.
“We should go see the sights.”
He turned and walked back to the living room and grabbed his shoes and his phone, texting someone.
“Car will be here in five. You sure you’re good?”
“Honestly? Never better.”
“Joe, look, there’s a 7/11 here.”
His eyes were bright, walking through the night market like this was Disney World. His phone was out immediately, no doubt taking a picture and sending it to Ja’Marr.
“Should we go in?”
“I think we kinda have to,” you nudged him, heading towards the gas station, dragging him along. Not that he seemed to have an issue with that.
This market had practically everything you could ever need—clothes, a British baked potato bar—but you guys were more interested in the street food. Joe was a little more apprehensive, understandably, with the whole athlete diet thing—but he honestly was less picky than you thought he would be. Probably because you started off with an easy, familiar option.
“These are the best dumplings I’ve ever had in my life,” he said between bites.
“Should we try the pad thai or the pad kee mao next?”
Joe continued staring intently at the menu.
“Let’s split both. And we can get the Chinese BBQ chicken skewers too, those look great.”
“They do.” You leaned over, seeing someone walk by with a full stack of them on a heavy-duty paper food tray. The food smelled so incredible it was almost hypnotizing. “And…mango sticky rice for dessert?”
“And mango sticky rice for dessert,” he affirmed with a slight chuckle.
Four plates sat between you as you dug in, sampling your finds without a care in the world.
“Do you remember our first phone call?” you asked, picking up a skewer. “I was so nervous, and then it felt almost weird seeing you again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’d seen pictures of you leaving Oscar after-parties, and in the morning I’m seeing you eating egg whites in your Airbnb like life is completely normal.”
Joe laughed, shaking his head. “I forgot about that.”
“I didn’t. I remember thinking, ‘Oh, we just do not live the same life.’ And then you went to the MET.”
He reached for another spoonful of dessert before answering.
“And now we’re sharing mango sticky rice at a night market in Thailand.”
You looked around at the crowded tables, neon signs glowing in the background as other people were engaged in their own conversations.
“We flew across the world just to hang out with each other. It sounds a lot more insane now that I’m saying it out loud.”
Joe smiled, innocently wrapping his foot around yours under the table.
“A little crazy, but it feels like a full-circle moment. And I wanted to see you again.” He turned his spoon in the rice a little before he spoke. “Turns out FaceTiming someone every day makes you miss them.”
“I missed you too.”
A smile formed, blooming over your entire face, and you were glad he didn’t look up.
“And I wanted to see you. Phones are great, but nothing beats the real thing.”
The silence was comfortable afterward, a mutual sense of relief that the feelings you’d developed since the day you met weren’t exaggerated. And when the food was gone, you walked side by side to see what they were selling.
Your first stop was a sunglass shop. There were endless options, but you and Joe bought matching pairs of frameless yellow lenses, and Joe bought a waterproof camera at a souvenir stand to document the trip. There was a bag store, a customized claw clip booth that almost had you, but mostly you just enjoyed walking around shoulder to shoulder with him.
“Are you getting tired? We can head back.”
You shook your head no, even though you’d just yawned. Joe gave you a pointed look and walked ahead toward the buggies.
“You know we don’t have to do everything today, right? We’ve got time.”
You lagged behind a little, like him saying the word “tired” made you want to look at the back of your eyelids for the next 20 hours, at least.
“Okay, fine. I just need a shower and I’ll get my second wind.”
“Sure.”
“I promise I’m not tired,” you said for what was probably the fourth time that evening.
Joe looked up from unpacking the last few things from his suitcase.
“You’ve been awake for like thirty hours.”
“I’m fine.”
He studied you for another second before shaking his head. “Okay.”
You disappeared into the bathroom to shower and change, emerging in sleep shorts and an oversized T-shirt, feeling extremely grateful to get rid of that long plane ride.
“Movie?” you suggested, climbing into bed and grabbing the remote. “Kinda wanna do a Spider-Man rewatch before the new one comes out.”
Joe glanced over from where he was gathering his toiletries.
“Sounds good.”
By the time he finished showering and changed into a different T-shirt and shorts, you were scrolling through Disney+.
He stood in the bathroom doorway, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth while washing his face.
“Are we starting with Homecoming?” he asked, opening the floss container.
No response.
Joe looked up.
You were curled up against the pillows, remote still loosely clutched in your hand, completely asleep.
He couldn’t help but laugh quietly to himself because five minutes ago you’d been insisting you weren’t tired. He moved carefully, as quiet as he could, taking the remote from your hand and switching the television off before climbing into bed next to you.
The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you shifted over as he pulled the blanket over your sleeping form. Joe shut the light off and stared at the ceiling, thinking about how this was so much better than anything he envisioned over the last six months.
But it wasn’t this super nice villa or any one part of the vacation he’d been looking forward to.
It was this.
The little things. You sleeping next to him after trying to convince him you’d make it through an entire movie.
“Liar,” he murmured affectionately into the dark.
“Mmhm,” you mumbled sleepily, not even opening your eyes.
Joe smiled and said, “Goodnight,” knowing he wasn’t getting a response.
He stayed on his back, arm behind his head, until he fell asleep.
He only teased you about the movie twice, which was fine.
You slept in, took your time in the morning lounging around, ordered breakfast, and got in the pool for a bit while actually watching Spider-Man: Homecoming. Your activity for the day didn’t start until late afternoon, so you got to nap.
And kiss him a few more times.
The ride to the elephant sanctuary didn’t take long, and the introductory presentation about the elephants, their behavior, and other fun facts was educational and brief. You’d obviously grown up watching America’s Next Top Model, dreamed of coming here and riding an elephant, but after learning how dangerous it is for them and how they’re exploited, you started looking into elephant sanctuaries.
Joe wasn’t a zoo guy. He hated seeing animals in captivity, so this was an easy yes for him as well. Seeing animals in their natural habitats, getting to interact with them and observe them, would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience that he was really looking forward to.
“We do have two new babies that’ll be excited for visitors,” your guide explained, walking you inside to get ready for your first activity. “They’ll be ready to eat in 45 minutes, so we’re going to cut this fresh fruit for them. They’ve been very into the watermelon lately. It’s very sweet this time of year, so we only give it to them once a week to avoid overwhelming them with sugar. Here’s everything you will need. You can fill up your rolling basket, and when you are finished, we can go out and see them.”
“There’s fruit and look.” You picked up the laminated instruction sheet. “You can make little rice balls for them.”
“Do you want to cut the fruit up first and then do the rice? Or we could split it? I can—”
You held up a finger.
“I think I should do the fruit. And before you say anything, yes, I know you know how to use a knife. You’re 29, not 4. But…the last thing I want on my conscience is you hurting your $40 million hand fighting with a watermelon.”
Joe made a face that almost looked like a wince.
“It’s $55 million actually.”
“Oh, even better. Yeah, you’re gonna make some life-changing rice balls today.”
You laughed, and he joined in, knowing you had a point.
Starting with the large fruit first, you cut large chunks of watermelon and placed them in your basket as Joe held the sticky rice in his hands with a level of concentration that you were sure he used at work.
And it made you feel warm inside that he considered wrapping these rice balls in banana leaves just as important as anything else. He really cared about doing everything right and making an effort, which made him even more attractive, and you placed your focus back on your portion of the task.
There was comfort in the quiet. Just you and him in the room doing your own things, not needing to fill it with small talk and meaningless noise. Just the sound of him wrapping his rice balls and you tossing fruit into your basket until both baskets were filled to the brim.
Your guide walked back in to check on you and walk you out to the open space where the elephants roamed free.
One by one, they slowly walked over to be fed. Your guide, Dara, carefully demonstrated the proper feeding method and allowed you and Joe to take over.
“What are their names?” Joe asked, running his hand gently down one of the elephant’s trunk.
Three of them had chosen to stay with you while others grazed from other guests partaking in the experience.
“This is Ziggy. He’s about 40. Malee is around the same age, and we’ve been calling this little one Sprout because she loves bean sprouts.”
“Sprout?” You placed a hand on your chest. “That’s absolutely adorable.”
“Do you have any bean sprouts we can give her?” Joe asked. “If not, don’t worry about it.”
Dara nodded. “I do have some. Let me grab them for you.”
“Thank you,” you both told her at the same time.
You handed out your watermelon pieces and watched the adults go to town while Sprout stayed close to her mom, nibbling on scraps here and there, not wanting to step too far until Dara handed Joe a bowl of bean sprouts.
He took some and held out his palm, and Sprout lifted up her trunk, placed it in his hand, and took all of the bean sprouts before shoving them into her mouth.
You watched him alternate between the sprouts and the fruit, mesmerized by her appetite and how she kept getting closer and closer to him.
Ziggy playfully threw pieces of banana in the air and walked in a circle while Sprout blatantly followed Joe around.
“I see you’ve made a friend,” Dara noted.
Her mom was still close by, but Sprout let Joe caress her face and feed her a few rice balls.
You walked around to the shaded area as the elephants went for a swim, observing them existing peacefully, learning that Ziggy used to work at a circus and now lived in a place where none of the elephants were forced to perform or do any kind of labor.
After a few hours watching and interacting with them, you were led to a restaurant. After thoroughly washing your hands, you got to enjoy a nice, quiet meal to close out a day in the sun.
By the third day, you felt like you’d known him and been with him for years.
“Did you put on sunscreen?”
He scoffed. “No, I didn’t, mom. Don’t need it.”
“I’m not putting aloe on your back when your skin starts peeling,” you warned him.
“The goggles are a great look.”
Joe raised the camera as you held your thumb up and smiled for the picture.
You held out your hand after adjusting your headgear.
“I’m gonna swim out and take some pictures, see what I can find.”
Thankfully, the water wasn’t very deep before you came across the coral. All of the colors blended together so harmoniously the sea plants resembled flower bouquets, and an octopus wiggled through the rocks, hiding from you and your camera. You just hoped if you clicked enough times you’d capture at least some of the legs.
There was a conch shell too, empty. You picked it up and held the bright pink and orange interior facing out, with the tan shell wrapping the outside, capturing the crystal-blue sea in the background.
Joe came up behind you, arms wrapped around your shoulders, examining your find.
“That’s pretty awesome. Where’d you get that?”
“Right over there,” you nodded towards the little cove.
“I went over there. I didn’t see anything like that. How do you find all the cool stuff?”
You handed him the shell, and he turned it over a few times, feeling like the star of one of those National Geographic specials.
Holding up the camera, you told him to smile as he held up the shell that doubled as your trophy for the day before you swam out, putting it back where you’d found it.
At the end of your snorkeling date, you sat on the speedboat and looked through all the pictures you’d taken so far.
Yesterday’s art explosion when you visited several temples and fulfilled the history part of your vacation. The Red Temple, Wat Ratchathammaram, had a dress code and was worth wearing pants for. The Buddhist temple was a visual masterpiece, and getting to see the gold sculpture again through the eyes of your market camera was still breathtaking.
“These pictures are so high quality,” you told him, remembering Joe trying to capture as much as he could as he walked. It was hard trying to be present in the moment, to read what the symbols meant, but also document the artistry.
Then the lengthy gallery of food pictures. So many meals had been shared it wasn’t even funny. You were kind of thankful you’d been swimming all day, getting a workout, because the rolled ice cream last night was going to be something you’d think about for a while.
Joe’s hand rested casually on your leg as you looked through underwater photos, deleting blurry ones and stopping at the one he took of himself holding your hand as you swam ahead. You hadn’t even realized he was holding the camera then.
“I can’t believe both times we’ve hung out you’ve gotten me on a boat.”
“What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes.”
You placed the camera back in the bag as the boat reached its next destination.
Joe stepped off first and immediately turned and offered you his hand. You happily took it and let him help you step off the boat.
The sand was delicate and bright, this baby-powder texture and smoky white color, the brightest sand you’d ever seen. You knew it was blinding and you weren’t just being dramatic because Joe actually put on his sunglasses when he looked down.
And in the water, right next to you, marched four legs ready for a swim.
This was a regular occurrence for them. They hadn’t paid any attention to you or Joe or the watercraft that had just stopped in their way. They just went around on both sides.
“Are those…pigs?”
“Welcome to Koh Madsum,” the boat driver announced excitedly. “Pig Island.”
You laughed, watching them trot in the turquoise water, pink snouts glistening in the sunlight.
“They love it here.”
“A local rescued them a few years ago. They have roamed free on this land ever since.”
Joe knelt down to touch one that was super close.
“Cool. Not as cute as Sprout, but I guess they’re alright.”
“Please don’t tell me you got attached to the baby elephant at the sanctuary,” you said flatly.
Although the look on his face made his feelings pretty clear.
“We had something good going. I don’t think she wanted me to leave. These guys aren’t as personable. Sprout welcomed me with an open trunk.”
You stared at him for a second, trying not to make a big deal about how cute it was that he actually missed the elephant he’d spent one afternoon with.
“And mouth,” you noted. “We did have food.”
Pig Island also had little gift shops. You gave the pigs walking around in the sun a drink of water. They were precious.
Giving them the rest of your water was fine because on your walk you got to try Thai tea from the source, trying the Hop Apple Jasmine tea, and Joe had the Lemon Berry.
He took maybe two sips of his drink before saying, “Switch,” and handing you his cup.
You hadn’t held hands in public. He hadn’t placed his hand on your shoulder or outwardly shown any interest in PDA, which was fine because you felt like swapping drinks was intimate in a different way.
Slowly but surely, there had been a level of trust built this time around. No nervousness or awkward what-ifs. He’d literally tied your swimsuit for you that morning before you left and kissed you behind your ear afterward, so gently it tickled. Neither of you had said anything about it. He’d just smiled when you swatted at his arm and told him to hurry up before you missed the boat. Joe then explained he was trying to get both ears, to keep the balance. You let him kiss you again before telling him you really, really did have to get going.
Joe pulled you out of your thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”
“Huh?”
“You look like you’re pondering something big.”
Your shoulders shook with laughter. “Pondering?”
He nodded, proud of himself. “Thinking very carefully before making a decision,” he explained, even though you knew what the word meant. “We’re almost back at the villa. You thinking about a nap?”
“A nap does sound good. But I was more thinking about how I can’t believe we’re leaving soon. And thinking about how I don’t really want to.”
“Yeah,” he breathed out. “This was a great decision.”
“It was yours,” you glanced over at him with a sideways expression.
“Hm. Was it?”
You stepped off the boat and thanked your driver, walking to your door and heading straight to bed “This vacation, a nap. You’re just full of good ideas. I might have to keep you around,” you joked, resting on his chest.
His eyes were already closed, but the smile on his face let you know he heard every word and just wasn’t going to respond. You pressed your lips lightly against his jaw anyway.
The entire trip so far had been filled with excursions, unique activities catered to seeing as much of the island as possible. No amount of naps was going to physically and mentally prepare you for the flight home. So you guys went for the next best thing.
Traditional Thai massages are closer to yoga, focusing on blood circulation, flexibility, and relieving muscular tension through mobility work. You didn’t want to ask, but it was probably Joe’s favorite part of the week. Both of you were fully clothed, resting on the padded mats on the floor rather than typical massage tables as the licensed therapists used their elbows, hands, knees, and feet to assist in the stretch.
The therapeutic experience was meant to balance internal energy, enhance circulation, and support overall health. At least that’s what the brochure said. They allowed you to completely shut your brain off, allow positive activity to flow through you in this almost meditative state with your body and mind at rest even though you knew you weren’t sleeping.
“I feel like I took a two-hour nap,” Joe said as you walked towards the next room.
He’d booked out the spa for a few hours, and you both got to choose which activities you wanted in a total relaxation package. A mud bath was next. You’d never done one, and it seemed harmless enough.
“Seriously, I didn’t think that would feel like that. It was so peaceful.” He nodded, and you looked down at his clothes. “Did you get me this workout set so we could match?”
Joe snorted, taking in your all-black Alo two-piece, essentially the women’s version of what he was wearing.
“Maybe.” He turned away quicker than normal, hiding his glee.
There were two steps to the mud bath. One larger area where you could put the mud on yourself, kind of just an excuse to touch each other, which you weren’t opposed to. So you would stay in that area while the staff filled two tubs full of mineral-rich clay for you to soak in for 10–15 minutes.
“What’s the point of this?”
“Mostly skin detox, exfoliating dead skin. And the soak helps your joints and inflammation, I think. So there’s health benefits. I know that’s what you wanna hear.”
You told him after you’d both gotten in your swimsuits and covered your hair. Clay and mud didn’t exactly sound like something you wanted to dig out of your head tonight. Your answer seemed to satisfy him enough that he dug his hand in the bowl and scooped up some of the mud, using his fingers to put it on your shoulders and back.
Once he was done and you turned to face him, you did the same, lathering it onto his forehead.
“You need this stuff to nourish your skin since you refuse to wear sunscreen. You’re gonna look 80 when you’re 40.”
“My skin is fine.”
“Yeah, it’s blemish-free, but it will wrinkle earlier than it should if you don’t introduce it to some SPF.” He rolled his eyes and kept applying the mud on you, meticulously, like he didn’t want to miss a spot.
“You know you don’t have to do everything perfectly, right?”
“If I’m gonna do something, I wanna do it right. If not, then what’s the point of doing it at all?”
You paused, taking your hands off him. “Are you talking about the mud right now? Or us?”
Joe stood still, wanting to run his fingers through his hair out of habit, but one, it was covered, and two, there was excess mud dripping from his wrist.
“Can’t help it. I’ve been thinking critically about… a lot of stuff. And I want to do this right. I want this to make sense in real life, not just foreign countries and sporadic phone calls.”
“I get that. We are professional overthinkers. That’s what drew me to you in the first place, but—” One of the staff members came in to let you know your baths were ready, and you thanked her, heading into the room.
“We can figure out all that stuff later, we've done it before. I didn’t think I’d ever talk to you again after you left Greece but you made that happen. So I’d say you’re doing pretty well so far. Don’t let yourself get so lost in your head that you don’t get to live in the moment.”
Gesturing towards the clay-filled tubs, you sighed and told him, “We have a lot to talk about when we get home. We know that. But for now, let’s just sit in it…literally.”
He shook his head with a short chuckle and stepped into the warmth. “This feels kinda gross.”
“It does. Now sit and stop thinking so hard for ten minutes.” Your eyes were closed as you leaned back, and he followed suit, trying to get back to total relaxation like he had in the massage room.
He didn’t want to sit in his feelings, or the bath, for that matter, for too long, but he had no other choice.
When the timer rang and the staff ushered you to the showers, giving you privacy, he honestly did feel a lot lighter.
“Why don’t we just shower together?” Joe asked, back to himself. “To conserve water.”
“Right, of course.” You stepped into the shower, and he closed the door behind you, letting the spray wash off the mud and clay and everything else that you’d just been fully submerged in.
When you hugged him, most of the mud was already gone, pooling at your feet in some strange gray-brown mixture flowing down the drain, but he wrapped his arms around you anyway.
Your bodies were pressed against each other so closely that his heart was beating out of his chest, and he hoped you couldn’t feel it through his skin.
Getting on the tips of your toes, you reached as much as you could and kissed him. You hoped that there would never come a day that you’d forget what kissing him felt like, his low laugh that he tried to bury in the back of his throat but couldn’t help, the bliss that consumed him while your mouth was on his. The water disappeared. The spa, everything. It didn’t even occur to you that you were still standing there for a full minute, fully immersed in this, with this person you couldn’t get enough of.
He cupped your face and placed a kiss on your lips again before grabbing the soap and remembering what you two were actually in there for.
You’d almost forgotten how early in the day it was, somewhat surprised by the sunlight on the walk back to your villa where you changed and got back into the water because it was scorching outside.
Joe turned the next movie on after he got new swim trunks on and waited for your food before getting in.
“Do you need help?” you asked wide-eyed, seeing him come down the small steps carrying a huge tray.
“I got it.” He carefully stepped in and walked the tray to the edge of the pool, closer to the TV.
“Are we supposed to eat all of this?”
Joe handed you a fork.“Guess so. Hope you’re hungry.”
“Hungry for one meal, not…” you looked at the platter and counted all the items you saw, “…six.”
“This is definitely not enough for six meals.”
You shrugged. “Maybe not for you. But I don’t play professional sports and get pantsed on national television. I eat normal-people meals and do not take flag football too seriously.”
“Okay, that was essentially an Olympic tryout, so yeah, I wanted the call,” he defended. “The pants weren’t super high on the list of priorities.”
“Oh, they weren’t high, period. That was the problem.”
He laughed, telling you about the time in college when it was his bare ass instead of compression shorts, so this time was a lot less revealing. “The fact that this has happened to you twice?”
“I know. Believe me,” he stressed. “I know.”
You poured a little of the coffee into your glass and tasted some of the bread, one of three grain options sitting in front of you.
“Would you want to play in the Olympics?”
“Yeah. Getting a gold medal would be pretty sick. And it’d be in LA, the world’s biggest stage. Sounds like a lot of fun. I’ve been missing that with football the last few years, but getting to play in that and then camp with the team, it’s been the most fun I’ve had in a while. I’m excited to get started, to win something meaningful.”
“Sounds like the Bengals are gonna make some noise this year. In a good way.”
“I think we will,” he said confidently.
Not in an arrogant way, but in a hopeful way.
“And maybe you can come watch in person? Our next vacation could be a staycation. In Cincinnati.”
“Joe, do you think I like you enough to spend an extended amount of time in Cincinnati, Ohio? On purpose?”
He looked at you and was actually beaming, his perfectly white teeth were definitely worth the investment.
“It’s not that bad of a place.”
“I don’t care,” you admitted. “Because at this point, I like you enough I’d visit you anywhere. Unfortunately.”
“Good.” Joe paused, leaning in to kiss your cheek.
“Because going another six months without getting to do this again would really suck.”
hello starting off with clingy joe right away? what a treat 😁 i love their dynamic because yes they’d of course be calling every day and yes he would nerd out over her job and yes she would notice the little shifts in his demeanor (&be receiving alo pr duh).
i forgot how much buzz the last part had until that initial kiss because whew yum. their dynamic almost gives childhood friends separated by distance and brought back together to me just because of how much chemistry they have right off the bat.
“to conserve water” whatever you say husband 🙂↔️
overall all the little fluffy moments just had me smiling to myself like a fool, 10 stars
thank you for the tag, @w1ldthoughts, @burrowswomen, & @coasttocold <3
RULES : Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then tell them something about it!
(i can’t find anyone who hasn’t been tagged yet)
JOE BURROW
spring break, baby! (ch1-3) : As it turns out, feeling something again has a way of making a mess of everything. Because somewhere in the middle comes something you didn’t see coming…someone you didn’t see coming. Especially when that someone isn’t Joe, for once.
untitled : Moving in with Joe is a series of small things. Routines that form without meaning, habits that are picked up without decision, and noticing the details you’ve missed in your time apart. Turns out there’s more to learn than you thought.
RAFE CAMERON
aftertaste : follows the events of taste me now
CLARK KENT (😏)
a siren’s song : For the last few weeks, Clark’s been haunted. By a pull he can’t name, some melody that isn’t really a sound, threading itself through the city noise and settling underneath his skin. Clark Kent has faced forces that could level entire cities, yet never once has he felt anything like this.
bby went straight home to tell songbird about what a nightmare it was while laying on her chest as she runs her fingers through his hair and rubs his back.
quite literally. she had been watching the live stream, her brow scrunched in confusion as she tried to make sense of why it had started half an hour late. the picture was grainy, the video lagging, and the tiny, cramped conference room where joe sat front and center felt unbearably exposed even through the screen. she found herself wincing for him, imagining the harsh lights stabbing at his eyes, and immediately wondering, did he even bring his sunglasses? she could practically see the strain in his gaze when he was on the stage, the way he must’ve been squinting through every awkward pause and forced smile.
when he came home, she was lying on the couch, one arm draped over a half-drunk glass of wine on the side table, headphones still snug over her ears, oblivious to the door opening behind her.
then, warm hands, gentle but insistent, slipped the headphones off her head. the mixture of tom ford cologne and her saffron & cedar body lotion from salt & stone easily gave away who it was. five seconds later, he appeared in front of her, and without a word, he just (gently) plopped onto her without warning, body heavy and exhausted, letting out a long, shuddering sigh that vibrated through her chest. his face nuzzled into her stomach, head slipping under her shirt so his cheek was pressed against her soft skin, his hair slightly damp and mussed, sending shivers down her spine. she instinctively wrapped an arm around him, her fingertips soon tracing lazy, soothing circles over his back as he said,
"yeah…that’s gotta be top five most awkward things i’ve ever done in my twenty-nine years of existence. right up there with my mom making me record the pledge of allegiance for her students."
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