Warnings: Explicit 🔞🔥 🏳🌈 Masturbation, bi-curious!Joel, prescription drug use (antidepressants, blood pressure and anti-anxiety meds - because we do not talk about this canon fact often enough), Joel is still very hooked on that gay construction porn VHS, jerking off in the shower, fingering himself, drinking alcohol, use of a sex toy, Joel discovers his prostate 😌
Word count: +/- 3K
A/N: It's been 10 (!!) months since I've last posted any fic, so I'm just going to drop this without thinking too much about editing or whatever. Skip if it ain't your thing, because it's exactly what it says on the label. Massive love to @sin-djarin @qveerthe0ry @lotusbxtch @mountainsandmayhem @perotovar in particular for enduring my existential crisises about writers' block <3
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Joel sleeps for ten hours straight, his mind reeling with images of the gay porn he watched. After three orgasms in one night, he’s exhausted - and frankly surprised he had it in him to jerk off again after he’d fucked Tess.
But the allure of watching the rest of the construction site porno, that had somehow ended up among his VHS rentals, had been too hard to resist. It was rough, almost desperate, as Young Guy surrendered himself to Boss Guy wholeheartedly.
He is hadn’t even intended to get off again, but within minutes his cock was so hard that he had no choice but to touch himself again. This time he wasn't able to stay quiet as he jerked himself off fast and hard, his breathing messed up as he couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. By the time the two actors were both coming, Joel's climax hit him too as he spilled all over his fist, the wave of pleasure not just a relief but with a sharp bite to it.
He doesn’t remember going upstairs afterwards, but when he wakes up the next morning, it’s with his face buried into a pillow. Distant fragments of a dream still float in his head; something about having had his ass eaten, and a guy on his knees in front of him, while Joel could still feel the wet traces of the man’s tongue all over his cock.
The house is oddly silent - too quiet, as it’s making Joel’s skin crawl, a restlessness that’s hard to cope with early in the morning, not used to being alone anymore. The radio chases some of it away while he has coffee and a sandwich, but somehow the living room feels like a loaded space to walk into, the stack of rental videos staring at him accusatory. It’s ridiculous, he tells himself, as he takes the dreaded tape out of his VCR and shoves it back in the white, unlabelled case, ready to return all of the video tapes - but it’s barely 7 in the morning.
It’s an instinctual response that makes him put the tapes in his bedroom, as if anyone would randomly walk into his house and start going through the stack of them, let alone play them. Before he can contemplate for too long whether that makes him paranoid, he’s saved by the phone.
“Hey, it’s me. Listen…”
Tommy.
Something tightens in his chest, making it hard to breathe momentarily, and he’s unable to focus on whatever his brother is saying. “Is Sarah okay?”, he interrupts him gruffly, ready to grab his keys and jump in his truck, but Tommy’s affirming response makes him take a beat and relax - just a little.
“Fuck. D’you know how early it is?” He tries not to snap too much as he reaches for the pill bottles on his dresser, taking a tablet out of each of them. Prilosec, Buspirone, Amlodipine- the trinity. He still doesn’t like the thought of needing to take them daily, but at least the past half year has demonstrated that they do work. Although there isn’t enough anti-anxiety medication these days to deal with calls like this about the ongoing projects, particularly when it comes to the Johnsons.
He talks Tommy through instructions to replace the missing shipment of materials, fighting the urge to take over as he normally tends to do, because he’s tired. It’s the kind of weariness that settles in your bones, much harder to get rid of than any physical fatigue. It’s a relief when he hears Maria in the background, saying something to Tommy about taking Sarah to her friend’s hair salon, and to ‘leave your brother be for the weekend, he needs the time off’ - and he’s not sure which one of those two things he’s most grateful for.
Time off rarely meant doing nothing, and today was no exception. Between overdue maintenance on the house, laundry - the endless piles from a teenager never ceased to amaze him - and running errands, it was well into the evening until he finally got to sit down.
With the groceries put off until tomorrow, dinner is a quick sandwich while he thumbs through his notepad, marking off what he’s gotten done.
- return video rentals
He stares at the note, then checks his watch, groaning when he sees how late it is. There still is just enough time before closing if he leaves now in a hurry, but the thought of going out just to return the tapes feels almost silly. Tomorrow is fine, he tells himself; it’s not like Sarah can come across them now. Besides, he still has to rewind that tape.
Thinking about the VHS makes his skin crawl, the same way it did throughout the day whenever those images would cross his mind again. It’s not even that he’s bothered by how carried away he got last night; it’s the intensity of it that still has him reeling. Particularly when spending time in Tess’ bed did nothing to chase that urge away, nor did a good night’s rest. Most of all, it felt like he didn’t have time to think about this. Not when Sarah would be back home tomorrow night, and the routine of Sunday nights would drag him right into the upcoming week and all the responsibilities waiting for him, often so overwhelming that he’d find himself reaching for an extra dose of anxiety tablets to keep going.
Not yet though. Not tonight.
Have another sandwich.
As he pulls some fixings out of the fridge, he searches for a beer before he remembers he finished those last night. A pang of annoyance hits along with that thought, as the urge for something to take the edge off is stronger than he likes to admit. After searching through the upper cabinets in the kitchen, he comes across a bottle of Jim Beam stashed away - out of reach from Sarah, and out of sight of Tommy, because some things just never fuckin’ change.
Turns out, bourbon goes down real easy with a turkey sandwich after a busy day. A part of him is ready to zonk out for the night, but that low current of electricity is still running under his skin. Clicking through channels is not much of a help; nothing is interesting enough to catch his attention, and the news outlets keep going on about the invasion in Iraq. It’s not that he doesn’t care, but the visuals and running commentary get to him too much. All it makes him think about is when Tommy was sent overseas - and the risk of that happening again, gone for god knows how long. The endless waiting for that weekly call from Tommy, because it’s the only way Joel could be reassured he was still alive.
By the time Joel finishes his third glass of bourbon, he feels a lot better. His skin seems to fit him better again, and the rising tension from earlier has subsided at last. He grabs the bottle of bourbon as he makes the rounds to turn off the lights, then makes his way upstairs, eager for the soothing heat of a shower. The steam and water help him mellow out some more as he washes his hair, and by the time he’s soaping his body with the shower gel, he’s half hard and eager for some more specific touch.
He groans as he lazily pumps his fist around his cock, leaning his head back against the shower wall as he closes his eyes. It doesn’t surprise him that his mind wanders off to the video again, mentally replaying the scene where Younger Guy gets his ass eaten. He hesitates for a moment, but his horniness and the alcohol in his bloodstream get the best of him, making his brain feel even more fuzzy as he reaches back to touch himself. Not all that new, he realizes now, as his fingers move instinctively, because there have been more than a few nights in the past with Tess - both of them tangled up in her bedsheets for the evening or a weekend, her body hot and sweaty against him.
He can almost taste her pussy on his lips again, and how she’d gush over his fingers or tongue after several orgasms. The breathless way she’d say his name, hoarse and wrung out, practically urging him to stop, even though her body remained so damn responsive. He enjoyed playing with her like that, seeing how swollen she was for him, her clit so sensitive that he could see it throb whenever he’d blow cool air on her.
“Joel, I can’t,” her words slurred together, but he could never turn away from that sight. Especially not when he’d see more slick drip out of her, gleaming in the dim light of the bedroom, as it’d spill down over her asshole. He ran his thumb through it, spreading it over her tight rim, and heard her gasp - saw how needily her hips pushed up towards him, now in a different way than before. It didn’t take much to figure out what she liked, how easily she took one finger and more once that muscle relaxed, and how dizzy with desire it’d made him to feel her heat when she’d clamp down on his fingers, crying out his name as he fingerfucked her like that while eating her out.
In that same way, it takes Joel very little effort to find out what it is he likes. That same heat flaring in his belly as he runs his finger over his asshole, exploring tentatively at first, his other hand still wrapped tightly around his cock. But soon that grip loosened considerably, his attention now focused on the slight pressure of his finger tip slipping inside, and - oh. Oh, fuck. He bites his lip hard, trying to control his breathing that has suddenly sped up, and for a moment it overwhelms him. Even without touching his dick, he can see it jerk in response to the new sensation, and all he can think about is that he needs more.
The second time his finger slips in easier, spit serving as an improvised compromise for lube. He’s able to manage his breathing slightly better now, flashbacks haunting him of how he’d urged Tess to relax into the feeling. The heat in his lower belly is rapidly growing, and when his mind flits back to that fuckin’ tape, the response from his body is so instant and eager that it nearly makes him dizzy. The vague thought he had a moment earlier - that maybe Tess would be up for slipping him a finger - is gone now, his heart feeling like it’s going to hammer out of his chest as he pictures Boss Guy’s dick pushing into Younger Guy’s hole, and the loud moans coming from both of them. When did ‘being filled’ suddenly end up so high on his list - all because of one damn VHS?
“Fuck.” He grits his teeth as his legs feel unsteady, then manages to turn around and rest his forehead against the wet shower wall, feeling the warm water beating down on him. Somehow maintaining his balance is easier this way, and slowly he feels the tension in his shoulders creep away, just like the previously tense muscles in his legs. It feels like there’s more room now behind him to continue what he’s doing, somehow the position being easier on his arm too. The angle is still awkward though, but that last bit of practical thought is quickly chased away as he takes his dick in his spare hand, letting the sensation drown out the rational parts of his brain.
Not so much the other thoughts, though.
The look on Younger Guy’s face, pleasure with just an occasional hint of pain as Boss Guy fucks him hard. The way the camera pans away from his face after a little bit, showing how he’s leaking on the ground, then the view of Boss Guy’s hands grabbing onto the younger man’s meaty thighs. A close of Boss’ cock - fuck, oh, FUCK -, thick and flushed with an angry red color, as he’s pounding the younger guy’s round ass like there’s no tomorrow. Heavy balls slapping against those cheeks, the dark thick pubes damp with sweat and other fluids. It makes Joel wonder how it would feel, to have that guy’s hand resting on the back of his shoulders or neck. Holding on to steady him, or that thick arm around his waist as he-…
The sensation hits him hard when his finger thrusts deeper inside than planned, and for a second he feels like he’s going to black out. The heat in his lower belly combusts in a way he hasn’t experienced before, zapping shockwaves through his body and up to his brain. He cries out in pleasure, a howl he almost doesn’t recognize as his own, but he curves his finger once more to push against that spot inside, which is way more sensitive than he had ever even considered before. Again and again and- oh, FUCK.
His hips jolt as the repeated stimulus quickly becomes too much, way too much and too quickly - pushing against the edge of pain in a way that feels both surprisingly good and like he’s going to pass out. With effort he regains the sense of mind to slip his finger out, resting his forehead against the wall as he pants heavily, almost unable to catch his breath. He expects to see his release painted all over the tiles, but instead there’s nothing but drops of water rolling down the wall. His cock is still rock hard, too, a fat bead of precum welling at the tip, and for a moment Joel’s brain is too scrambled to figure out what’s going on.
He turns off the water as he stumbles out of the shower, automatically reaching for a towel before he pauses, then re-routes to the handsoap for a quick wash.
Too much. He drank too much, probably, then got horny and… somewhat carried away. But he wants more - another drink to make his head buzz as much as his body is doing right now. Something to match that feeling in his lower belly, until that is the only thing that drowns out his thoughts and makes it feel like he doesn’t even have to think about anything anymore.
He pours himself another glass, savoring the smokey warmth of the whiskey when it hits his tastebuds again, and this time he doesn’t think - or hesitate - as he pushes the VHS tape into the VCR, then turns the tv on.
Nobody knows.
On screen, Younger Guy has Boss Guy’s dick down his throat.
Fuck- it’s really the whole damn thing.
There should be lube in his nightstand, he remembers finally. But what he finds in addition to that bottle while searching the back of the drawer is about the last thing he expects. Brightly colored silicone, of which he has no memory, but must have been Tess’ at some point.
There’s no way the battery on this thing still works.
On screen, Younger Guy’s mouth is slick with precum when he pulls back - his lips ruddy and beautifully bruised as he gazes up at Boss Guy. Joel knows there’s some kind of dialogue happening, but the words aren’t registering with him. All he hears in that moment is the silicone buzzing in his hand when he presses the innocuous looking button.
Shit. Is he really going to do this?
The rest of his bourbon burns while going down as he swallows it - the ol’ cliche liquid courage that makes him feel like he’s fuckin’ nineteen and trying to talk himself into something. The visuals and sounds coming from the tv help to distract him just enough to not think too closely about how his hand shakes slightly, or the loud squirting noise from the lube.
“Please, fuck me,” Younger Guy gasps on screen as Boss Guy pushes him down, manhandling him on his knees and into the position he wants. Joel’s eyes fall shut as he feels the pressure against his asshole again, definitely not just his finger anymore, and his hips buck up as the vibrations rock his lower body more intensively than he was expecting.
Goddamnit, that feels really fucking good. Wait. Easy. You can’t have that thing on and then…
Minutes later, the lubed toy is inside of him and Joel is so far gone that he can hardly think anymore. Stroking his leaking dick with one hand, feeling painfully hard at this point, he switches the device back on with his other hand. The rush hits him immediately, making him gasp as it rocks through his entire body, and he comes so much harder than he expected - spilling all over himself and the sheets, as it feels like his heart is going to hammer right out of his chest.
The moment he catches his breath, he fumbles to turn that damn thing off, which is anything but easy. It’s not just that he feels wrecked, but he can tell how dangerously fast it’s trying to push him beyond the boundaries of what’s comfortable - and the last thing he needs is for this to go wrong or have him end up in the ER like some TLC show.
Well. You actually went there, huh Miller?
It feels like he has no brain left - at this point, it seems pretty plausible that it must’ve melted and leaked right out of his ears. The vibe ends up wrapped into a bunch of tissues and pushed somewhere into the back of his nightstand, and he lazily grabs a nearby shirt to use as a cumrag as he wipes himself down. He’s already half asleep as he watches the rest of the scene play out on his tv, but by the time Younger Guy and Boss Guy are being replaced by another onscreen couple, Joel is out cold.
He doesn’t hear his cellphone buzz, or the voicemail that Tommy leaves for him.
“We’ll pick you up at 11 am, alright Joel? Don’t oversleep, you grumpy bastard. We’ve got plans for tomorrow.”
A/n: finally got to write on a computer, but it gave a space to the start of every paragraph 😔
Warnings: smut, somnophilia, masturbation, Slash cums on readers face, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
Kinktober
When you first met Guns they were playing a show at the Cat House, you’d been having a hard day and they managed to cheer you up.
You got to talking with the band, specifically the bassist and lead guitarist, Duff McKagan and Slash respectively. They were looking for a place to stay, their old manager had kicked them out, as well as quitting as their manager. You happened to be looking for roommates, and managing would get you out of your current job which was very quickly draining you, killing you day by day.
Obviously, they accepted. You met the rest of the band the next day at practice where you got to watch them, they offered you their drugs and you accepted, the weed at least. They had their extracurriculars, as you preferred to call their chemical habits, but they were focused on the music, they cared about it, and they were good at it.
That night you took Duff and Slash home, getting them keys to your house and driving them there after. You weren’t all too invested in the scene at the time but you made friends quick, and made sure those friends had friends, anything for Guns to keep you around.
When they started living with you, they both had partners, or regular fuck buddies at the least. Those got switched out and exchanged frequently, but when they really had no one they came to you.
Wanting to keep things professional you said no, repeatedly, assuring them you would if not for your new job associated with them.
One night it wasn’t good enough. They had their set up in the living room, you had a couch and an old mattress on the floor, lots of blankets and pillows for them, plus they got to watch TV all night. They were getting antsy, you didn’t let them do drugs in your house because you didn’t want to take the fall for it, which also meant not having any drugs in the house, not even weed. Usually they had women, but they didn’t have that either.
Slash got up abruptly, it was late, you were sleeping. He crept quietly into your room, being sure he wouldn’t wake you up. He slipped in, Duff followed close behind. You were sprawled out in bed, a fan facing you to combat the terrible LA heat. Also to get past the heat, you never slept in much, a tank top usually sufficed and panties, though it was little coverage it helped to feel less exposed. The door was closed anyway.
They gave each other a quiet look, knowing they were going to hell if they actually did this, and that you’d probably kick them out. Still, they got on the bed, again being careful to not wake you.
When you stirred, they paused and waited for you to stop, but they got their dicks out, using your body as free porn while they jerked off. Occasionally one would grow a little more eager, reaching out to touch you, running a hand up your inner thigh, squeezing your ass, pushing your shirt up higher. It all kept building, they bit the meat of their thumbs to keep from groaning. You shifted in your sleep again, pulling your leg up, ass perched in the air now.
Slash looked to Duff, whose eyes were glued to your near bare cunt. “She’s gonna wake up.” Slash whispered, reading Duff’s mind.
“She’s not gonna wake up.” The blond brushed him off.
“She’s gonna wake up if you do that, she’s gonna hate us and kick us out.”
“She’s gonna wake up if you don’t shut up.” Duff shot him a warning glare before looking back to your sleeping form, reaching out slowly. His long, slender fingers dipped under the band of cloth between your legs and pulled them to the side. They were practically drooling now, your perfect pussy on display for them, already wet. Neither of them questioned if you were already awake, just brushed it off as a good dream. You definitely thought it was.
Duff moved closer, hovering above you. He pinched the fabric with his thumb, both hands now on your ass and spreading you for him. With slight guidance from his free hand he lined his cock up with your cunt, pushing the tip in while watching you for any sign of wakefulness. When he was sure you were asleep he pushed in deeper, stopping every few seconds.
Your breath grew heavy, hips lifting off the mattress the deeper he got. You groaned softly, making them both freeze, attention shooting to your face. Your nose scrunched, but you kept your eyes closed, scared it would all disappear when you opened them.
Your cunt squeezed Duff’s cock, making his hips buck, in turn drawing a moan from you. Duff looked to you, then Slash who was watching intently.
“Dude, if she’s not waking up yet fucking go.” He urged, stroking his own dick faster.
He couldn’t resist. He pulled his hips back and snapped them into you, making your body jolt. Seeing you were still refusing to be awake, he kept going, getting rougher and not bothering to watch his tone. “Fuck, take it just like that.” He groaned, holding your hips tighter.
Slash moved up the bed, kneeling next to your head. He saw your lips parting in silent moans, your nose scrunching slightly. His eyes widened slightly as he realized you weren’t asleep, but he didn’t want to say anything yet, didn’t want to ruin this for him or his bandmate.
He reached down for your face and gently thumbed at your cheek, tucking hair behind your ear. “Just look so innocent like that.” He mumbled, still firmly stroking his cock. “So perfect…” He chuckled softly and looked to Duff. “Could use a little frosting, huh?” Your eyes almost shot open, almost. The dream wasn’t over yet, you weren’t ready for that.
You couldn’t keep your moans silent forever, soft ones leaving you as Duff managed a good rhythm, bringing you closer to the edge. Your gut tightened and you could feel your high creeping up on you, of course neither of them could say anything, tell you to stop, hold on, you just smiled and let them do all the work.
Slash reached for your head, holding it in place. You listened to the soft sounds of his hand on his skin, his heavy breathing through gritted teeth, cock angled just over your face. “She’s gonna cum.” Duff rasped, thrusts losing their rhythm.
“Well, pull out.” Slash huffed, beating red tip leaking onto your cheek.
Duff just shook his head, your moans growing clearer. “Can’t-can’t pull out-” His mouth opened, a sound coming out like there was more to come. As the knot began to slip and unravel inside you, you came, pulsing around him and sucking him in deeper, it sent him over the edge, your pussy filling with his cum.
The blond’s mouth fell, soft moans leaving him speechless. His hips bucked a last few times as he came. Slash’s eyes rolled back, rutting into his hand as he came over your face.
They’re breathing was heavy as they looked over you, seeing how heavy you were breathing, your worn body. “Alright,” Slash spoke, “how long have you been awake?” Duff’s face flushed as your eyes opened and you looked back at his cock still buried in you.
jackson!joel miller x javier peña || crosshairs part 2
summary: Joel spends a dangerous night at Javi's side.
tags: 18+ MDNI. shameless flirt Javi. Joel is bad at feelings. an inkling of smut. jealousy. canon-typical violence. canon-typical moral ambiguity. minor injuries. sexual tension while bandaging the minor injuries. angst. protective!Javi. protective!Joel. lusty, Joel-POV descriptions of Javi on horseback. sexy smoking. untimely boner (or very timely boner?). inaccurate horse lore, don’t try this at home. one slut-shamey comment. “oh no, the only way out of this is smushing our bodies together” trope. everyone is still bi, and Joel is still pretty comphet coded.
wc: 7.5K
dividers by @/bonnieknowsbest
series masterlist | ao3 | playlist | part 1 | next part
Joel stood in the evening snow and stared at the door to the farmhouse. The door stared back.
Go inside already, he growled at himself. Go on in and talk to Maria.
It would be an easy conversation. She didn’t need Joel as badly for the patrol lineup as she once had, but if he asked, she’d send him out.
And Joel needed to patrol. It was the only thing that made him feel right lately – getting out in the quiet Wyoming hills, actually protecting Jackson, and not just worrying about it. Patrol was when he felt the most capable. It kept him sharp.
He even liked the kids Maria would assign as his partners. Kat and Jesse had a lot to learn, and Joel felt useful when he got to teach them. But Joel had already signed up for every patrol he could with Kat or Jesse, or Tommy, or Eugene, and even then, he barely got to go out once a week.
The problem was Peña. He’d taken over the patrol roster, like he had everything else in town. His name was on it almost every day.
Joel glared at Maria’s door. He had no other choice. It was time to go inside and sign up for one of the slots with Peña.
He didn’t budge.
Maybe Joel was imagining it, but it felt like Peña was already paying him too much attention. It was that damn shooting match on the wall, Joel thought. It had changed the balance in a way he didn’t understand. Sometimes, in the mess hall, Peña would catch Joel’s gaze and hold it, like if Joel didn’t look away, Peña would come sit beside him.
Joel always looked away. What would he even talk to Peña about? It wasn’t as though Peña needed Joel’s help. And Joel didn’t want to hear Peña’s stories.
Joel’s skin itched. He'd been steering clear of the Tipsy Bison, but there wasn’t much else to do on a winter night in Jackson. He’d tried to keep busy in his woodshop. He’d dragged Ellie out of her room for movie nights. Hell, he’d even tried reading – a moth-eaten copy of the first Jack Reacher book.
Joel had actually liked it. Jack Reacher was strong, he thought quick, and he knew how to make tough calls. Something about him put Joel at ease, but when the story was done, Joel was back in the mess of his head.
He just needed to patrol.
His stomach squirmed at the thought. It wasn’t just talking to Peña that worried him. It was that look in Peña’s eyes, like he saw Joel for what he was. Joel might have the rest of Jackson convinced that he was a good man, that he could handle himself, but he wouldn’t be able to fool Peña.
Joel took a resigned breath. No. He wouldn’t ask to patrol with Peña.
He turned from the farmhouse.
He was halfway down the walk when he heard the door open behind him. Somebody called out his name. Jesse.
From the red on his cheeks and the layers he was wearing, he must have just come back from patrol.
“I was just about to look for you,” he said. “Something came up. Do you have time to meet with Maria?”
Joel had nothing but time these days. He turned and trudged back to the farmhouse.
“Everything alright?”
Jesse’s brow creased. “For now. Kat and I saw smoke on patrol.”
Raiders. Joel’s pulse quickened, and clarity washed over his thoughts. A hysterical part of him almost welcomed the distraction.
“How many? Were they armed? Did they see you?”
“We don’t know,” Jesse said.
The door to Maria’s office was open. She stood at her desk, talking with Tommy and Kat as she pored over a map of the mountains around Jackson. The three of them looked up with relief when Joel stepped into the hallway.
It felt good, the way they counted on him. Good, and terrible.
“That was fast,” Maria said. “Did Jesse fill you in?”
“Yeah, some. Raiders?”
“We don’t even know that much,” said Maria. “They might not be raiders.”
“We just know there’s an encampment,” said a soft, all-too familiar voice.
Peña leaned against the office wall, his coat open and his forearms crossed.
This was the last thing Joel needed right now.
Kat was talking. Joel forced his attention to her. He didn’t have time for Peña.
“We saw the smoke at the old truck stop by Elk Mountain,” Kat said. “We hid up on the ridgeline, so I don’t think they saw us, but they might have seen our trail.”
Elk Mountain wasn’t close, but it wasn’t far enough for Joel’s liking. It was less than ten miles away, and the skies had been clear lately – the snow would be firm, and the raiders could make it to Jackson within a day.
Peña’s brow furrowed, and he ran the back of his thumb over his mouth. Joel wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
“What else did you see?” he asked Kat.
“Not much. We didn’t want them to spot us. But we think they came here in Jeeps – there were a few snowed in by the truck stop.”
“FEDRA?” Joel asked.
“Might be deserters,” Tommy said. “Coulda come down from Boise when Javi did.”
It made sense – only someone desperate would try to cross the Wyoming winter in a vehicle. Without anyone to clear the roads, a Jeep was about as useful as a kayak.
“Most of the kids in FEDRA didn’t sign up for it,” Maria said. “This group could just be passing through. They might not want trouble.”
Maria might be right, but they couldn’t gamble on it. Whether or not these deserters wanted trouble, they’d run out of food sooner or later. And it was only a matter of time before they stumbled on Jackson.
Joel sighed. He knew Maria saw him as paranoid, and making his point wouldn’t help any. He tried to form the right words in his mind.
Peña broke the silence first.
“We need to assume the worst,” he said. “Their camp must be snowed in by now, and if they don’t already know about us, they will soon. You can see our lights from any of the ridgelines around Elk Mountain. When they get desperate, they’ll have no choice but to attack.”
Maria frowned. “Don’t tell me you think we should strike first.”
Peña stared darkly at the map on the table, where Tommy’s thumb pressed over the truck stop.
“We should consider it. Sometimes you have to do bad things to protect yourself from bad people.”
Joel glanced up in surprise. He hadn’t expected this from Jackson’s knight in shining armor.
“Peña’s right,” he found himself saying.
“Javi,” Peña said.
“What?”
“Javi’s fine.”
Joel grunted. Peña was pressing this point now?
“The walls are secure,” Tommy said. “There ain’t any reason to take the fight to them. We can double up on watches.”
“For now,” Joel said. “But I reckon it’ll tire us out. If the raiders are smart, they’ll wait. They’ll find the holes in our guard and scale the walls by night. Or they’ll start attacking our patrols.”
Peña nodded. “If we move tonight, we’ll be able to get the drop on them.”
Joel met Peña’s gaze, and for once he was grateful for that uncomfortable way Peña seemed to recognize him. Peña – Javi? – knew what it took to survive.
Not that Tommy and Maria didn’t. But they cared about community, not just survival. That kind of thinking was a luxury, and some ugly part of Joel knew that Tommy could only afford it because he’d always had Joel to make the impossible decisions for him. Tommy didn’t know what it was to bear that weight. He didn’t know what it was to fail.
Joel pushed the thought away. It was a good thing, that he’d managed to protect Tommy’s hope. He’d long ago resolved not to begrudge his brother. But it was a relief to have someone on his side tonight, even if that someone was Peña.
Javi. Joel might not like the guy, but he’d earned that much respect.
Maria shook her head. “I don’t agree. Even if I did, it’s too dangerous to attack them like this. If they’re FEDRA, they might be well-armed. We don’t know what we’re up against.”
“Then let’s find out,” Javi said. “Double up watches tonight. In the meantime, Joel and I will ride to Elk Mountain and scout the truck stop. We’re the two best shots in town. We can cover each other if things go wrong.”
Joel blinked. It wasa good plan. An obvious one, really. Why hadn’t Joel thought of it?
Javi caught Joel’s eye, and the edge of his mouth lifted. Whatever clarity Joel had found, the last of it slipped away.
Was Javi asking Joel some sort of question? Did he expect Joel to be grateful that Javi thought he was a good shot? Joel was a good shot. He didn’t care if Javi had noticed.
Joel’s heart was beating too damn fast for how small of a mission this was. Anyone with eyes could ride up and look at the raiders. Kat and Jesse could have done it today, if they’d been less careful.
Joel tore his eyes back to Maria. She was saying something – agreeing to the plan, if Joel was in.
“I am,” he said. “We can do it, easy.”
“Okay,” she said. “Tommy, can you arrange the double guard?”
He nodded.
Maria opened the topmost drawer of her desk and took out the key to the ammunitions shed. She offered it to Joel.
“The two of you take what you need. But fight only to defend yourselves, and only as a last resort.”
Joel nodded, but he swapped a glance with Javi as he pocketed the key. Javi’s eyes were dark, and Joel knew what he was thinking. If an opportunity struck, they would take it.
They walked from the farmhouse in silence, broken only by the murmurs of passers-by and the crunch of snow. Joel didn’t know what to say to Javi. They could plan, but there weren’t any more details to figure out until they had eyes on the camp.
Outside the heat of the discussion, it felt oddly intimate, going into danger at Javi’s side. Sure, they were both good shots, but Tommy was almost as good. Why hadn’t either of them suggested scouting with him?
They passed the Tipsy Bison, and Javi glanced inside. It occurred to Joel that on any other evening, Javi would be there right now.
He cleared his throat. “I gotta run home and talk to Ellie. She oughta know where I’ll be tonight.”
“Okay,” Javi said. “Let’s meet at the stables. I can get what we need from the ammunitions shed.”
Joel hesitated. Javi knew his guns. Joel would have to trust him.
“Fine,” he muttered.
He passed the key to Javi and stalked off toward his house, telling whatever was moving around in his stomach to stop it already. Jackson was in danger. That was the only thing that mattered.
He didn’t tell Ellie everything. Only that he was going on a nighttime patrol, and she should go to Maria’s if she needed anything.
Not that she would. Ellie was way too stubborn about handling things herself. If Joel told her the real reason he was going out tonight, he was half-convinced he’d come back to find her on the wall with a sniper rifle. She was growing up faster than any kid should have to.
By the time Joel got to the stables, Javi was already there. He’d finished tacking up Glimmer and was almost done adjusting Bullseye’s saddle.
Joel felt a flicker of surprise. Javi knew which horse he liked?
Bullseye was a massive, rust-colored draft horse, with a patch of white over one eye. He took up the only oversized stall in the stables, and he was backed on one side of it, watching Javi warily. When he caught sight of Joel, he whinnied softly.
Javi turned with a grin. It was warm in the stables, and he’d unwound his scarf. His collar parted around his throat, showing bare skin, and… Joel’s stomach dropped. An unmistakable bruise marked the side of Javi’s neck.
Joel was riding into a possible death trap, and his only backup was a middle-aged man who still got hickeys.
Yeah, he should definitely have insisted on going with Tommy.
“I can take Bullseye from here,” he said.
Javi handed over the reins.
“Thanks. It took me ten minutes of sweet talk before he’d let me come close with the saddle. I swear, this is the meanest horse in Wyoming.”
Joel wasn’t proud of the satisfaction he felt, but he felt it all the same. So there was somebody in Jackson who didn’t fall over themselves for Javi. He stroked Bullseye’s muzzle.
Attaboy.
Bullseye huffed out a breath and nosed at Joel’s pocket. Joel hardly ever brought carrots to the stable, but he’d done it once, and Bullseye had never forgotten.
“Bullseye ain’t mean,” Joel said. He got to work on the tack. It was easier to talk to Javi when he had something to do with his hands. “He’s discerning.”
Javi let out a laugh behind him. “I’ll try not to take that personally.”
It was actually impressive that Bullseye had let Javi approach with the saddle at all. Joel considered saying as much, then remembered the bruise on Javi’s neck. He slid Bullseye’s bridle into place without a word.
Javi fell silent, and Joel heard the familiar click of guns being loaded. It was a sign of how fucked Joel was that the sound put him at ease.
He finished Bullseye’s tack and turned to find Javi slinging the second-best rifle in Jackson over his shoulder. He nodded to the best one – Joel’s favorite – where it leaned against the wall.
“I got it last time. It’s only fair.”
Joel grunted in acknowledgement. He didn’t need Javi’s pity. He took the rifle anyway.
Javi slid the clip in a handgun and held it out, grip first. Joel hesitated. A gun like this would only do them good if they got up close and personal with the raiders.
He holstered it.
He met Javi’s eyes, and that same uncomfortable understanding passed between them. Was this why Javi was being so friendly all of a sudden? Did he see something in Joel that he could use?
Joel’s attention flickered to the mark on Javi’s neck. Javi’s eyebrows lifted, and Joel flushed. He busied himself sheathing his hunting knife, but not before he saw a smirk appear on Javi’s face.
“You’re gonna come down with syphilis at this rate,” Joel muttered.
Javi’s smirk widened. “You think Nathan has syphilis?”
Joel was pretty sure Nathan was the councilman. Joel had noticed him a few times around town. He had bright green eyes, and an easy laugh. It hadn’t been two weeks since Joel had seen him with Javi at the Bison. Had Javi left with him again already? Had it happened more than once?
Some hot, primitive feeling clutched at Joel’s chest. He closed his fist around nothing and pressed his thumb into his forefinger, hard enough to hurt. He needed to stay in the present moment.
So Javi was an asshole. It was hardly news.
“Let’s go,” Joel growled. “Bullseye ain’t fast in the snow. We gotta leave soon to hit the truck stop before sunup.”
Javi shrugged. He picked up a second handgun and hiked up the back of his coat. Joel caught a glimpse of Javi’s bare stomach, and those too-tight jeans. And then Javi shoved the muzzle of the gun in the back of his pants.
Seriously? Who did Javi think he was, some supercop from the movies?
“What?” Javi said. There was a teasing note to his voice.
“You’ll shoot your ass off like that, Peña.”
“Javi’s fine. And I can handle my firearms, Miller.”
He leaned forward to pat Joel on the shoulder, then turned and mounted Glimmer in a single, fluid motion.
“Come on,” he said. “Somebody told me that your horse is going to take all night to get to Elk Mountain. We’d better get going.”
They rode. The night was clear, and the moon was full. It shed enough light that they could see without headlamps. Joel was glad of it – the raiders wouldn’t see them coming.
He let Javi take point. It was only good tactics. Glimmer was a fast horse, and it made sense to ride behind her.
Javi rolled his hips as he bounced in the saddle, and the buckles of Glimmer’s tack shone beneath him. She was still a filly, and she flew through the snow, sending up powdery clouds with every crunch of her hooves. Javi leaned forward as they charged, and he seemed to almost flow as one with Glimmer, like some storybook hero on his trusty steed.
Joel scowled.
Bullseye plodded through the valley. He was long past his days as a colt, and even then, he’d never cared much for patrols. In any other life, he would have been hauling lumber, and he moved like he knew it, huffing in protest every time the snow passed his knees. Joel urged him forward, and, to Bullseye’s credit, he kept on after Glimmer.
I’m sorry, boy. You’re plenty trusty.
In a better world, Joel and Bullseye would be building houses together. But the better version of Joel was gone. He wasn’t a storybook hero. He was a weapon. The best he could do was put himself to good use.
The moon dragged through the sky. Leather creaked on Bullseye’s saddle. Cold wind stung at Joel’s face. In the distance, he could make out the stark white crags of Elk Mountain.
Javi crested a ridge and halted Glimmer with a tug of the reins. Joel pulled up beside him and caught his first glimpse of the truck stop.
It flickered with the orange light of bonfires. Either the raiders didn’t care about drawing attention, or they were cold enough to risk it.
Joel felt his nerves settle. His mind was always clearest at times like these, when there was a strategy to piece together.
The raiders had a good position, up high against the sheer face of the mountain. It was an advantage, but with any luck, the fires had blinded them enough to undo it. Joel shot a glance at the horizon, where pale blue light was already beginning to gather. They needed to act soon.
Javi’s smooth voice broke the silence.
“We should get close before the sun comes up.”
Huh. It was like Javi had read Joel’s mind.
Well, Joel didn’t need basic tactics explained to him. He grunted in agreement and took stock of their surroundings.
Elk Mountain was at the opposite end of a long, narrow valley, with a pine forest spread across its floor. Good. They’d have cover for the approach. If Joel squinted, he could make out the rusty old gas pumps at the truck stop on the other side, and the shadows that moved among them, breaking up the firelight.
He and Javi were outnumbered, but he didn’t know how badly. If there were three Jeeps, there could be as many as fifteen raiders. It wouldn’t be smart to engage them tonight, not when the position of the truck stop would make ranged attacks so difficult. The best thing to do would be the plan they’d sold to Maria – hole up today and learn as much as possible. They could ride back at night.
Javi pointed to a forest-covered hill in the middle of the valley. “That should be a good lookout point,” he said. “If we can get there before sunrise, we can watch the raiders all day. And if they make a move toward Jackson, we’ll know.”
They’d be able to take them out, Javi meant. Joel nodded, and they took off down the slope.
Javi stayed closer than he had on the approach. After a night of running, Glimmer was starting to flag.
The hill that Javi had chosen was farther than it looked, and by the time they reached it, the sun was rising. Joel shot a glance at the mountain, and was relieved that the hill blocked his view of the truck stop. The raiders wouldn’t be able to see them, either.
Up close, the hill was more of a cliff. Joel thought he and Javi could scramble up, but the incline was too steep for the horses. It might be easier from the other side, but then they’d be in view of the truck stop. It was too big of a risk.
Joel exchanged a glance with Javi, and they both dismounted. They hitched the horses at the bottom of the cliff and rested long enough to give them breakfast. Joel pulled a thick blanket out of the saddlebags and draped it over Bullseye’s back.
We’ll go home soon, boy. I’ll even bring you carrots again.
He stroked Bullseye’s muzzle one final time, then followed Javi up the slope.
The incline was shallow at first, but it soon turned into a slippery mass of rock. Joel breathed heavy as he hauled himself up. He was too old for shit like this.
Javi seemed to be feeling it too. His skin glistened with sweat, despite the cold, and he relied on his hands as much as his feet as he clambered up the boulders. Joel had to do the same. His spine prickled, and not just because of the drop that yawned behind him. He hated climbing into enemy territory without a weapon in his hand. From the grim set of Javi’s mouth, he felt the same way.
Up ahead, Javi placed both hands on the lip of the cliff. He hoisted himself up in a single, long push, and vanished.
By the time Joel got to the lip, he was ready for the long day of sitting ahead of him. He braced his palm on the top. And then Javi shouted his name.
“Get out of here, Joel! Run – ”
A sickening crack cut him off. Joel knew the sound. Flesh against steel. A pistol to the skull.
Adrenaline surged in Joel’s veins, and he tensed his legs, ready to leap up to the cliff top. He had to get eyes on Javi.
A boot stomped down on Joel’s hand. Pain screamed through his littlest finger, and he felt something snap. His vision swam.
No. No time for pain. Think about the options. There had to be a way out of this.
Joel could pull his hand free, but he’d risk losing his balance. He could reach for his gun, but whoever he shot would fall forward and knock him off the cliff. Joel let out a breath of frustration. While he was dangling like this, the raiders had him trapped. He had to get to the top before they threw him off.
Should he risk launching up there? Was it even possible, with his hand pinned down? Was Javi still alive?
Stop. Focus on the advantages.
Joel took a breath of cold air. The raiders hadn’t yet hurled him off the cliff. They could have killed Javi, but it sounded like they’d hit him. Maybe they needed information, maybe they didn’t have guns, or maybe they were squeamish about killing. Either way, Joel had an advantage.
Cold steel pressed into Joel’s forehead. Gun to the head. Disadvantage.
“I’m going to let you climb up,” rasped a voice. “Go real slow, and if you don’t try anything, you’ll make it up alive.”
They were letting Joel up? Were they crazy? Was this some sort of trap?
“Got it,” he said.
The boot lifted from Joel’s hand, and a fresh wave of pain throbbed in his fingers. He pushed it aside. Pain wasn’t useful right now. The raider’s footsteps crunched as he stepped back, and the gun lifted a few inches away from Joel’s forehead.
Joel heaved himself onto the cliff.
The raspy voice belonged to a young man, little more than a teenager. He had long, skinny limbs, like he was used to growing faster than he could eat. He held the gun straight out from his body, and he tracked Joel’s every movement with its barrel.
A woman with matted hair stood beside him, aiming a second gun at Joel. Behind her, crumpled in the snow, lay Javi.
Joel’s chest seized. Javi wasn’t moving. The snow around his head was spattered with drops of blood. They’d hit him bad, then.
“Eyes on me!” said the boy with the gun. “Hands up. We don’t want to hurt you.”
Sure, they didn’t. Joel looked back to the raider and lifted his hands.
Javi was going to be fine. He had to be. No way he’d survived twenty years of apocalypse, only to die on his first patrol with Joel.
Joel forced his voice to stay level. He addressed the raiders as calmly as he could.
“What do you want from us?”
“Tell us where you came from.”
It was the woman who spoke this time. Her hands shook as she pointed the gun at Joel, but her eyes were steel. Joel stole a glance at Javi’s body, and his heart leapt.
Javi’s eyes were open. He’d only been playing dead.
He met Joel’s eyes and began to move, shifting to a crouch with the silent grace of a man who’d survived his fair share of clickers.
Javi, clever and undetected. Javi, alive enough to give Joel a cocky raise of his eyebrow. Advantage. Definite advantage.
Joel fought to keep his expression neutral and looked back at the man in front of him.
“If I tell you,” Joel said. “You’ll let me go?”
They wouldn’t. If they did, Joel would run back to warn Jackson, and they all knew it. But Joel needed to keep the raiders focused on him.
The young man’s voice wobbled. “I will. I promise. We’re starving out here. Just take us back where you came from.”
Joel looked in the raider’s eyes, and his resolve faltered. The boy was saying all the right things. Maybe he even meant them. But Joel couldn’t take the risk. He’d said those things himself, for years, without ever meaning a word.
For a moment, Joel wished Javi really was unconscious. He didn’t want an audience for this.
A shot cracked out from the opposite side of the clearing. The boy’s head swiveled for just a heartbeat.
A heartbeat was long enough. Joel drew his gun. He aimed it at the raider’s temple and pulled the trigger.
The shot exploded, and the world went quiet. The boy toppled to the ground, and Joel looked up to find Javi standing across the clearing. The raider woman was at his feet, and he held the stupid gun he kept in his pants. His eyes found Joel’s, and his mouth made a grim line.
Joel’s heart thudded in his chest. Javi stepped close. His face was wet with snowmelt, and fresh blood trickled from the gash at his hairline. His mouth began to move.
“Your hand. I heard something break.”
Through the ringing in Joel’s ears, Javi’s voice spread out like sunlight underwater.
Joel felt a distant ache in his fingers. His chest was hot with adrenaline.
“Later,” he said. “Are there any more of them?”
“Not that I saw, but I think this is a lookout site of theirs.”
Joel grimaced. He and Javi could either wait up here and ambush whoever came, or they could run. The ambush was too risky. They were both wounded, and they’d revealed their position with the gunshots. They’d taken down two of the raiders. It was time to cut their losses.
He scanned the clearing. Javi was right. The snow was trampled over with boot prints of different sizes. The slope on the far side of the hilltop was gentler, and a packed-down trail of switchbacks led down to the valley floor, toward the distant mountain. A handful of rucksacks were propped against a tree at the top. Joel headed over to them. Maybe he’d learn something he could bring back to Maria.
It was slower going than he’d hoped, searching the packs with one-and-a-half hands. Javi did most of the work, and there wasn’t much reward – a few warm layers, a roll of bandages, a stack of FEDRA ration bars, and some clips of ammo. All the bullets they found were for handguns. So the raiders didn’t have rifles. Advantage.
In total, there were four packs on the clifftop. Another two scouts were still around here somewhere, and they had to have seen Joel and Javi climbing up. Disadvantage. A big one.
Javi frowned at the two unclaimed rucksacks.
“Why split up?” he murmured. “They had us, four to two. Why send half of their scouts away?”
Joel considered it. They could have been sending for help, but the mountain was another few miles out. It made no sense. They could be hidden somewhere, waiting to jump him and Javi, but then… why hadn’t they? There was something he was missing.
The wind sang in Joel’s ears, and he sighed with relief. The ringing was finally gone. He could hear the crunch of snow under Javi’s feet. He could hear the rustling of the pine trees. And then he heard the distant, frantic, whinny of a horse.
The horses.
Javi’s eyes went wide. They mirrored Joel’s own horror back to him.
The raiders were trapped. Their Jeeps were useless in the snow, and they needed a different way out. Those last two scouts weren’t hunting Javi and Joel – they were after Bullseye and Glimmer.
Joel bolted for the edge of the cliff, and his stomach dropped. The clearing below was a mess of horse blankets and trampled-over oats. A scrawny raider balanced upon Bullseye, and Glimmer was nowhere in sight.
The raider tried frantically to urge Bullseye into a trot. Bullseye didn’t move an inch.
Joel felt a rush of pride. So what if Bullseye was the meanest horse in Wyoming? The world was a mean place these days.
Javi crouched on the ground and trained Jackson’s second-best rifle at the horse thief. It was over in a moment. Bullseye reared up in shock, and the raider’s body toppled to the snow.
“Let’s go,” Joel said. “There’s a chance Glimmer didn’t get far.”
It was a slim one, and it didn’t pan out. By the time they’d scrambled down the shallow side of the hill, the woods around Bullseye were empty, save for a straight line of hoofprints. Glimmer was long gone.
Javi let out a sigh.
“Fuck,” he said quietly.
That pretty much summed it up. Whoever’d taken Glimmer had a half-hour head start – enough time to get her most of the way to the truck stop. Joel and Javi were too outnumbered to get her back. It was a huge blow for Jackson.
Joel was about to agree, when he saw something move on the ridgeline above them.
He shook Javi’s shoulder and pointed it out, not daring to hope. “Look.”
A single, slow horse was carrying a rider up from the valley, away from Elk Mountain, toward the foothills around Jackson.
It was Glimmer. It had to be. And whichever raider had taken her wasn’t going back to the truck stop. He was fleeing – deserting the deserters.
“I reckon we’ll be able to catch her,” Joel said. “Won’t even have to go fast. She’ll have to stop and rest soon, but Bullseye will have better stamina, even if he’s got to carry both of us.”
Javi looked at Joel with wonder.
“No,” he said. “We can’t be that lucky.”
Joel glanced at his left hand. His littlest finger was swollen and purple. He looked at the blood still oozing from Javi’s temple, and turned back to Elk Mountain, where the fires of the raiders still burned – the raiders who surely knew about them now.
“Yeah,” Joel said. “We’re real lucky.”
Javi began to laugh. He sank down, exhausted, onto Bullseye’s blanket, and rested his head in his hands. Joel sat beside him.
It was a mistake, the sitting. The second Joel stopped moving, his whole body ached.
They couldn’t sit for long. They had to catch Glimmer. The rest of the raiders might come from the truck stop. But fuck, it felt good to rest.
Javi fumbled in the pocket of his coat. “We take a break for this long,” he said, pulling out a cigarette. “And then we go and look for Glimmer.”
It should have been annoying, this thing where Javi pulled thoughts out of Joel’s head. Joel found himself grateful for it. He liked not having to explain himself.
“Alright,” he said.
It took Javi three tries to light up. When he inhaled, he closed his eyes and braced the heel of his palm on his forehead. It was only then that Joel realized Javi’s hands were shaking.
So not even Javi was bulletproof. Joel should have known. No one got to be this experienced without paying the price. Joel thought of all the extra shifts Javi worked, of his name on the patrol roster every morning, and wondered if Javi might feel the same desperation to keep busy that he did.
Javi breathed out a wisp of smoke and offered Joel the cigarette.
Joel thought for a moment of Javi’s councilman. He considered taking a drag, then shook his head.
Javi turned to stare out at the grove.
“Those kids were lying,” he said quietly. “They wouldn’t have let us live.”
It wasn’t a question. Joel didn’t know if Javi wanted an answer. But they’d made the same choice up on the hill. Joel found himself wanting to talk.
“No,” he said. “Probably not.”
“We couldn’t have brought them back. They were too dangerous.”
“Probably.”
Javi took a long drag of his cigarette. It was almost halfway gone, and Joel found himself wishing Javi would slow down.
Javi turned to Joel.
“We could be wrong,” he said. “They could have been fine people. Just scared.”
“Yeah,” Joel said. “We could be wrong.”
Javi nodded. His dark eyes held Joel’s.
There was no accusation in them. Only a tired sort of surrender. Joel knew the feeling.
“It never gets easier,” Javi said.
“No,” Joel said. “It doesn’t.”
These weren’t the sort of thoughts Joel said out loud, and doing so didn’t make them any less ugly. But it felt better, this once, to not be alone with them.
Adrenaline slipped from Joel’s veins. Javi looked out at the dark trees, and his shoulder brushed Joel’s as he breathed in the last of his cigarette. When it was gone, he moved to stand.
Joel caught his forearm.
“Wait. Your head. We oughta patch it up.”
Javi raised a slow eyebrow, but he sat back down.
Joel unwound the bandages he’d taken from the raiders. His finger was hurting enough to bother him now, and he held it out awkwardly as he searched his med kit for gauze.
“Don’t wanna risk you passing out on Bullseye,” he explained. “I ain’t hunting for your body if you fall off a ridge.”
“You’re not?” Javi said. “Well, that’s disappointing, from the legendary Joel Miller.”
Joel paused before placing the bandage. Should he clean the wound? All he really had on hand was snow, and they’d be back in Jackson by nightfall. He should focus on stopping the blood flow.
Wait, legendary?
He scowled at Javi. “Shut up and hold still.”
Javi held still, watching Joel’s face as he found the gash. It still oozed blood, but it wasn’t too deep. Joel pressed gauze to it, then covered it with the bandage. Without any way to stick it down, he left the bandage long and knotted it around Javi’s head, then cut off the end with his knife.
“I’m not joking,” Javi said. “You’re all anyone in Jackson talks about. How I’m almost as experienced as you are.”
“You talk to people about me?”
A wicked grin spread over Javi’s face.
“Sometimes.”
Joel’s skin warmed.
“Right,” he said. “We oughta go.”
Javi didn’t stand. Instead, he picked up the roll of bandages and cut off another length. He held out his hand and nodded to Joel’s, the one with the broken finger.
“Your turn.”
What? No. Joel would be fine.
When Joel didn’t move, Javi took ahold of his hand. Javi’s fingers were cold, and his touch was gentle. He looked up at Joel, and it seemed his eyes were made of liquid.
“Come on,” he said. “Bouncing around on a horse is going to be hell for you if we don’t splint this. Let me help.”
It made sense. And they might need to fight again. Joel jerked his head yes.
Javi pressed Joel’s broken finger to the one beside it.
“Stay still,” he said. “And keep your finger straight. I know this hurts, but I’ll be fast.”
Joel stretched out his fingers, and pain radiated up his arm.
“’s fine,” he said.
Javi didn’t respond, but the edge of his mouth twitched. Using the bandage he’d cut, he bound Joel’s littlest two fingers together. The pressure helped, and a breath of relief slipped from Joel before he could stop it.
“There you go,” Javi murmured.
Joel’s chest felt tight. Javi tied off the bandage and touched the thick base of Joel’s ring finger.
“Never married?”
What? Why did Javi want to know? How could he even tell?
Joel kept quiet and saw Javi bite back a smirk.
In the haze of Joel’s exhaustion, he was suddenly convinced that Javi knew exactly what he was doing. Javi knew how lethal that voice of his was up close. He knew how goddamn handsome he was, even covered in blood, with a twenty-year-old bandage wrapped around his head. He even knew about that hot feeling slithering its way through Joel’s middle.
Joel lurched to his feet.
“Come on,” he managed. “Glimmer ain’t gonna catch herself.”
Bullseye looked flatly at Joel. He’d allowed Javi to mount, but he seemed to have done the math – one horse, two riders – and he didn’t look pleased. Joel wasn’t too happy about it either. Bullseye was a big horse, but Javi was tall. He took up more than half the saddle. Joel stared at the space that was left. This wouldn’t be like riding with Ellie.
Javi slid forward and leaned away to counteract Joel’s weight. Joel placed his hand on the leather behind Javi, then pushed himself up, slinging his thigh across the saddle. His leg swung as he got into place, and it knocked into Javi’s.
The two of them straightened up. They were the same height, and Javi’s head filled Joel’s vision. The backs of Javi’s ears were pink from the cold, and his dark hair curled at the nape of his neck.
No, this was nothing like riding with Ellie.
Joel worked his feet into the stirrups and turned his attention to Glimmer’s hoofprints. This would all be over once they found her.
“I’ll take the reins,” Joel said.
Javi didn’t hand them over. “You have a broken finger.”
“I can hold the reins with the other nine.”
“It’ll still hurt.”
“I’ll be fine. And Bullseye ain’t gonna let you steer.”
Javi flicked the reins experimentally. Bullseye stamped his foot, but didn’t budge.
“Told you,” Joel said.
Javi chuckled, then made a gentle clicking noise with his mouth. He leaned forward to stroke Bullseye’s neck, and when he spoke, his voice was velvet.
“Come on, boy. I know it’s heavy, but it won’t be long. Joel is right here, and we’re taking you home. You’re going to be okay.”
Joel felt it again, that hot pressure in his stomach. Bullseye ruffled out a breath. He took a single step. Then another. He began to trudge through the snow.
Traitor, Joel thought.
But he understood. Javi wasn’t what he’d expected.
The saddle rocked slowly as they made for the ridge. A tiny blue bird flitted through the forest.
If Joel kept his core tight, a pocket of air separated his body from Javi’s. He held on to the sides of the saddle.
“We’re gonna leave a trail,” he said. “Raiders will be able to follow it straight to Jackson.”
“I know,” Javi said. “But at least we know which path they’re going to take. We can find lookout points along the way, and guard it until the next snowstorm.”
We.
“You really want to scout together again?”
“I meant the whole patrol squad.”
Joel’s face burned. “Right.”
Javi was quiet for a moment. The forest thinned out, and he started Bullseye up the slope to the ridge.
“But you were right earlier,” he said. “The raiders are likely to attack our patrols. It would make sense to partner up.”
“For Jackson,” Joel said. “To keep Kat and Jesse and them out of danger.”
“For Jackson,” Javi agreed.
The incline grew steep. Javi slid backwards into Joel’s chest, and Joel had no choice but to cling to him, or else fall off the saddle. Beneath Joel's hands, Javi was warm, and taut with muscle. He smelled like sweat and tobacco, and he simmered with concentration as he steered Bullseye through the banks of snow.
Something stirred between Joel’s legs.
What? No.
No, no, no.
No way Joel was feeling… that… right now. He was probably being hunted by raiders. He was on Bullseye, being jutted by the saddle in all the places a man didn’t want to be jutted. His goddamn fingers were broken.
Not to mention Javi’s body was flush with Joel’s, so close that the stupid gun in Javi’s pants was jabbing Joel’s stomach, close enough that Javi would definitely notice anything that… reacted.
Joel closed his eyes and forced himself to imagine the gun going off.
His pulse settled, and the pressure between his legs relaxed. A little. He flailed around for a distraction.
“Javi.”
“Joel.”
That voice. Heat gathered beneath Joel’s stomach.
No. It didn’t. Joel was a fifty-eight year old adult. He was in control.
“We oughta stop at the overlook. Might be able to catch sight of Glimmer, if she hasn’t gone too far.”
Javi made a noise of agreement. The slope leveled out, and he pulled Bullseye to a stop.
Long, low valleys spread out before them. The wall around Jackson stood in the distance, no larger than the end of Joel’s thumb. Joel followed the trail of Glimmer’s hoofprints into the trees, and tried to see where she might have gone.
Javi didn’t slide forward in the saddle, and Joel didn’t loosen his arms
The day was cold. It only made sense to stay close.
It occurred to Joel that he fit perfectly around Javi. Their boots knocked in the stirrups. Their knees slotted together. Joel’s thighs bracketed Javi’s, and he could feel the cords of muscle that wrapped all the way up to the tops of Javi’s legs, tight and powerful, pressed up against Joel’s front.
Joel felt another swell of heat, more insistent than the last. All at once, his length stiffened inside is jeans.
Javi’s breath faltered.
No. This couldn’t be happening. Joel closed his eyes and prayed for an avalanche.
And then Javi moved. He didn’t spring away from Joel. He didn’t prod Bullseye into action. He shifted backwards, into the hollow of Joel’s body.
Joel forgot how to breathe.
Javi rolled his hips, and Joel felt a shock of friction.
Oh, fuck. Oh, God.
Joel grabbed a fistful of Javi’s coat. His heart thudded against his breastbone.
Javi moved again, and Joel’s body reacted. His hips tilted up, and his erection slid against the tight denim that separated him from Javi.
“There you are,” Javi murmured.
That liquid voice.
Something shook loose inside Joel, a horse bucking free of its tether. Up on this silent ridgeline, the world was only him and Javi.
He bent his head, and his nose brushed the side of Javi’s neck. Javi’s skin was warm. Joel breathed in the scent of him. He trailed his nose up to the graze soft skin behind Javi’s ear. His mouth touched the corner of Javi’s jaw.
Javi shuddered, and Joel felt it run through him.
Joel slid his palm down Javi’s front, to the top of his leg, and let his fingers curve around the inside of his thigh.
Javi let out a sharp breath. It fogged into a cloud of vapor.
Joel felt like a knife balanced on its tip. His blood burned. His erection strained against his zipper.
And then Bullseye stamped his feet. The saddle rocked.
Javi’s body jolted, and he pointed to something.
“Glimmer.”
What? The sound of Javi’s voice filtered through Joel’s head. He caught the meaning of the word, and awareness rushed back to him.
The raiders. Bullseye. The mark on Javi’s neck. Glimmer.
She stood in a clearing a few miles into the next valley.
“I don’t see her rider,” Javi said. “He must have gotten off to rest her. We’ll catch up to them within the hour.”
Joel struggled to catch his breath.
“Right,” he said.
Did his voice sound strange?
Javi flicked Bullseye’s reins, and they set off into the valley.
Next Chapter
If you enjoyed the story, comments and reblogs make my day! 💖💖💖
end note: Thank you to everyone who showed love for part 1! I was so unsure if there was an audience for this fic that I almost didn’t post it, so all of you who encouraged me are the reason part 2 exists. Crosshairs was originally going to be three parts, but I’ve decided to slow down and add more smut do it justice, so it won’t be quite finished with the next installment. Hope you enjoyed part 2, and can’t wait to share what’s next!
taglist (reply if you’d like to be added) + some folks who seemed to like part 1 (no pressure to read): @dotyoureyez @picketniffler @okiegal68 @littlepedrito @justtryingtocope @mcthsman @ptolemaea444 @milla-frenchy @time-for-my-weekly-spanking @shadowqueen2024 @rebel-held @aurorawritestoescape @maroonpascal
contents: smut, dom!slash x sub!femreader, dirty talk
word count: 930
p.s if u have any requests don’t be afraid to ask
You’ve been extremely horny lately, feeling extra bad for your boyfriend. You wanted to let him know that you loved him and not lusted over him, but you couldn’t control your high sex drive. This never really happened when you weren’t in a relationship, but now that you’re dating slash.. it’s like heaven. You called him a bit late every day because he always arrived at a hotel after a busy gig with his band.
You decided to call him, you couldn’t get your mind off of him. You heard the phone ring a few times in your ear before a familiar voice came to the phone.
“Hey sweetheart,” Slash said softly.
“Hi my love” you replied.
Even his voice was so angelic to you. God, it drove you crazy. Before you knew it, you guys were on call for an hour and a half. It was now 9pm and your panties randomly got soaked, a wave of horniness hitting you like a brick. You let out a low whine, the weird sensation pooling in your core. Your heart started to pound in your chest, your chest heaving. “Are you alright?” He asked in the same soft tone. “Mhm just a bit horny,” you confessed. He let out a deep chuckle at your confession without a word, which only made your arousal worse.
You weren’t usually a bold type of person, but you couldn’t help but to think about how you would love to get him hard by being straightforward. “I want you inside of me so badly,” you murmured. He groaned at your words, “You’re going to make me hard” he gritted through his teeth. “Good, I wanna make you hard” you say, your hand resting on top of your boob. Your words caused a bulge to grow in his pants, and the relaxed silence grew to sexual tension.
You couldn’t help but to grind against your blanket, whimpering needily. “What’re doin’ right now?” You ask. “Rubbing myself,” he replied. You could hear how heavy his breathing was and the sound of faint rustling. His hand traced over his leather-covered hard on as he focused on the sound of your voice. You just giggled mischievously, loving the sound of him getting turned on. “I wanna feel you” he moaned out softly. “Me too,” you croaked out, feeling yourself twitch inside of your soaked panties.
Before you knew it, your phone was on your other pillow and two of your fingers were plunged inside of your wet heat. His hand was rubbing up and down his shaft as you let out soft moans. The thought of him fucking you and stretching you open drove you crazy. He grunted and groaned, listening to your every sound. “I love you,” he said with a shaky breath. “I love you too” you managed to moan out in response.
Your moans gradually became louder, and his groans became more frequent. “Fuck,” he groaned out as he came. You were surprised from how fast he came, you weren’t even halfway done. But you continued either way, needing to finish. He continued stroking anyways. “I need you to ride me so badly,” he grunted. “I wanna feel you inside of me” you whined. Your fingers curled and your body convulsed. You came, moaning loudly. This caused him to have another orgasm, hearing him grunting and groaning as you panted lightly from your orgasm.
You sat there debating on whether to cum again, your pussy was still wet yet you were somewhat tired. Oh well, he came twice as well. You started again, your pussy feeling almost numb but sensitive from your last orgasm. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes and imagine your fingers were his cock, your fingers plunging in and out of your hole faster at the thought. He was still masturbating, barely any noise coming out of him this time. As you were halfway done with your orgasm, you heard him cuss under his breath once again. “Fuck, I love you” he gasped out as he came. You giggled and kept going as he relaxed and regained composure.
It was hard to cum, your fingers sore. All you could do was moan and attempt to go faster. Dirty words and pleas spilled out of your mouth uncontrollably. “I feel so bad for continuing while you’re exhausted,” you say to him. “Shhh, it’s okay baby. Keep going” he muttered. You listened to him, your orgasm coming closer and closer. “What are you doing now?” You ask in curiosity for the last time. “Rubbing myself again while listening to you,” he responded. You let out a “hmm” noise as an ‘I understand’.
“I wanna suck on your clit so badly, make you cum in my mouth” he said slowly. For some reason, this threw you off of the edge. Your back arched and you came harder than ever before, crying out in pleasure. “Oh, slash, oh fuck,” is all that comes out of your mouth, cum & arousal flooding your fingers as it drips down onto the sheets. He chucked in enjoyment as he heard you gasp and cry out in pleasure. Afterwards, you both sat there in the aftershock. Your legs shaked yet you were still able to put on your pants. He agreed to put on his pants as well and laid back down afterwards.
“You mean so much to me baby,” he mutters out lovingly, his voice laced with exhaustion.
“You mean everything to me,” you mutter back out in response before rolling over and drifting off to sleep out of exhaustion.
do yous wanna see what made me cry in public on Thursday?
it was at the Past Shelves exhibition by Lavender Menace at the Museum of Edinburgh
this was a protest flyer against the Section 28 bill that made talking about queer experiences illegal. and I teared up because holy shit we could just change the details up top and still use that line in red to protest the supreme court ruling
This was a youth work project and I had a proper cry because we're a lot better in a lot of ways; but I still meet kids worried about going to youth groups that aren't LGBTQ+ ones in case they'll face discrimination
And finally I had a full blown sob finding this because I was already delicate but going down to see this shrine of people's beloved slash art just. got me.
i genuinely think writing and reading slash on livejournal is part of what kept me tethered here when i was at my lowest as a kid. we've been here for so long. making up queer wee stories and small press zines. putting in effort to connect with people even when that meant typing up your fic in the computer room and printing it out to share with other weird gleeful perverts. making handmade badge to flag to other people you're a fandom weirdo and very proud of it.
it was just such joy after the top 2 shelves. i can't stop thinking about it.
