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auteurdelabre · 6 months

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Something to Fight For (series)(PART 5)

Word Count: 10.6

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no age or physical descriptions)

Warnings: THERE ARE SEXUAL THEMES IN THIS CHAPTER.

A/N: This is part of a series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joel.

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You’ve been staring at your cellphone for the last hour.

It’s Thursday morning, a full two days since Joel thrust flowers at you and walked off. Two days since Maria put them in a vase and observed that perhaps she wouldn’t kick Joel’s ass. Two days since you’d been to the office or seen James with his obvious hostility towards Joel.

You go from staring at your phone to staring at the flowers. The colorful arrangement sits on your coffee table looking so cheerful. You catch yourself smiling at it more often than not. You touch one of the petals, feeling its velvet softness before you punch in the numbers and raise the phone to your ear. It buzzes and by the fourth ring your anxiety is off the charts and you go to end the call when you hear it connect.

“Hello?”

The sound of Joel’s husky voice makes you feel apprehensive.

You almost can't speak for a moment, feeling tongue tied. But then you clear your throat and force the words out.

"Hey it’s me. Just calling to see what time you wanted me over tomorrow night?"

You bite your lip harshly, your eyes shutting tightly as you wait for his response. There's a lengthy pause and you panic wondering if you'd misread signals. Weren't you going back to normal after the whole flower thing? Finally you hear Joel clear his throat.

"I wasn't sure if you still wanted to."

"Of course I do," you assure. "As long as Sarah still thinks I'm the coolest adult in the world."

"I think she might think you're the coolest person of any age," Joel says and you think you hear admiration in his tone.

"What can I say, the kid has taste," you say affecting a supercilious voice. "Can't say she takes after her old man in that regard but..."

You hear Joel chuckle lightly and smile. Things are back to the way they have been. Good. But there’s still one thing you need to acknowledge, no matter how awkward it is.

“I also wanted to call to say I appreciated the flowers,” you say after a beat. “And the apology.”

You can hear Joel holding his breath.

"Never been that great with words,” he finally says in a voice pitched low. "Not always sure how to handle givin’ bad news. Apparently my delivery could use some work."

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be perfect like me,” you tell him breezily before remembering one additional detail. “Oh, and I’m calling you from my cell, so you can save the number on yours. That way you don’t have to go through the office.”

You hear a pause and some tapping.

“Got it.”

“You can text if it’s easier.”

“It’s not.”

You laugh at his solemn tone musing that you can’t really picture Joel Miller texting at all.

///

"Any chance you have a bunch of blueberries hanging around?"

A few hours later you're on Frank and Bill's front stoop wearing Maria's apron and a nervous smile. Maria is no better than you with baking so you're hoping your neighbors might be able to lend a hand with your current predicament.

"Not sure." Frank looks you over, amusement in his eyes. "But come in and we'll look."

You pad in after him with your bowl like a lost puppy. You feel like one, you'd thought making cupcakes to decorate would be fun but your first test batch tasted like hot garbage. Maria had choked one down before telling you to just get some at the grocery store.

"I promised Sarah I'd bring cupcakes for us to decorate on tomorrow," you explain as Frank and you walk into the kitchen.

Bill is sitting at the table with the newspaper sat in front of him. He's sipping coffee from an ornate looking teacup as he slants a frown at you as you continue explaining to Frank.

"She really wants blueberry ones and no one carries any."

"They're out of season," Bill mumbles. You turn to face him, looking disappointed.

"Hey Bill. Really? Fuck."

The empty bowl hangs loosely from your disappointed grasp. You don’t notice when Frank shoots a meaningful look at Bill over your head that the other man groans at. Bill pushes himself to a stand, as if being helpful causes him extreme physical exertion.

"We have some frozen."

Your smile is back on your face immediately. "Is there any way I could borrow a cup? Please?"

Bill is in a surprisingly good mood (a good mood for Bill is a tepid one for most others) because he agrees. He goes to the deep freeze in the garage and returns with your bowl overflowing with plump little frozen berries.

"Anything else you need?" Frank asks kindly as you profusely thank them both.

"No, I think I have everything else.” You lift your eyes skyward as you rattle off the ingredients you bought. "Flour, butter, salt, eggs, baking soda, vanilla."

"Baking powder," Bill interrupts.

"Huh?"

"Baking powder, not baking soda," Bill corrects.

"Baking soda, baking powder, it's the same thing right? Besides the baking soda was cheaper," you say distracted. "Anyway, thank you so much for the blueberries. Fingers crossed this batch works out!"

Frank and Bill exchange a concerned look and then Bill is taking the bowl back from you and telling you to follow him back into the kitchen before you waste his berries.

It turns out baking soda and baking powder are not interchangeable. You learn this working alongside Bill who is watching you measure his ingredients into a large bowl. You think this may have contributed to your first crap batch.

Frank excuses himself to work on his paintings with a wry smile on his face as he watches the two of you get to work.

It's funny because while Bill is gruff at the best of times, right now he's instructive and patient. He does snap a bit when you drop eggshell into the batter, but his gloom passes quickly.

"You're going to a lot of trouble for this kid," he says as you begin to stir in the berries. "Are you sweet on her dad or something? Trying to get the kid to like you so you'll get in his good books?"

"No," you laugh, your cheeks pinking under Bills quirked brow. "I just genuinely just like her. I'm actually babysitting her tomorrow so the dad can go on a date."

Bill gives a hummed response before reminding you to stir faster and with the bowl on an angle to get rid of clumps. You do as he says, observing when things start to smooth in the bowl. Its almost fun doing this, seeing the progress you make with Bill’s instruction.

Later you enjoy pouring the batter into the paper cups in the pan, noting that they already look so much better than your attempt did at this stage.

"Frank told me about the trivia nonsense."

Bill murmurs this out of nowhere as you put the pan of cupcakes into the oven and set the timer. You feel awkward, unsure of how Bill feels about everything you did. He’s more private than Frank and less inviting to others’ opinions. You chance a look at him to see his face typically unreadable.

"It was nice of you to think of us, like that." His hands are in his jeans pockets and he's looking at the oven, not at you, but you can feel how genuine that statement from Bill is.

You don't want to press it, don't want to throw your arms around him like you would with Frank. Instead you cross your arms over your chest and lean back against the counter next to Bill.

"I can't imagine having the world hate me for loving someone," you mutter shaking your head. "Fucking insane.”

You keep your eyes on the oven because you're worried if you look at Bill you might cry.

You feel as Bill's meaty hand comes out of nowhere to squeeze your shoulder gently, lifting just as quick. Then he's gone from you, remarking that he has extra cookies in the basement, his special stash, and that Sarah will probably like them as a topping for her cupcakes.

Frank enters just in time to see this exchange but says nothing as his husband passes him in the hall. Frank's eyes are wet when you look at him.

"Fuck, I wish I'd met him sooner."

"Eight years is a long time to be together," you start but Frank is shaking his head.

"Could've been fifteen if we both had just admitted how we felt about each other, instead of fighting it," Frank shakes his head slowly, going to refill his coffee cup. "Just think, eight years wasted because we were so scared of what everyone else would think."

You stare at Frank for a moment, watching as he pours cream into his coffee, stirring thoughtfully.

"Wish we'd had kids together."

"You still can. You're not that old, Frank."

"Even if we were twenty five and rich you think they're gonna give a baby to two queers? Here?" Frank shakes his head dejected. "Not a chance."

You say nothing because you know that what Frank is saying is true. Your heart aches for him because you know that he and Frank together would be wonderful parents.

Frank is looking at the basement door with soft focus.

"I just think he would have made the best dad, you know?"

Strangely enough you do know, because under the gruff exterior of Bill is a heart with so much love for those he chooses to share it with.

"He can be my dad if he wants," you joke lightly. You're surprised when a knot forms in your throat, cutting the laugh off abruptly.

Frank laughs sweetly at this offer before going back to his office and his sketches.

You stand looking after him for a long while, thinking how insidious a thing like wasted time can be.

////

You smile at the jack o' lanterns that greet you as you walk up Joel's drive. One of them is large and cut to have a lopsided grin. The other looks like an attempt at a cat with mismatched whiskers.

You're surprised to see Sarah on the other side of the door, on her tiptoes to open it when you knock. She jerks her neck back so she can stare up at you.

"Daddy said I could answer the door," she tells you proudly.

"You did a great job," you say as you pick her up, her tiny frame so light in your arms, before closing the door. "Did you carve those pumpkins out front?"

"Daddy helped."

"But you were the brains behind the operation."

Sarah doesn't seem to know what that means so she gives a tentative nod. You internally remind yourself that she's only five and maybe you need to talk to her like it.

You bring her into the kitchen, dropping her at her chair before pulling the bag from your shoulder.

"Guess what I brought?"

Sarah's eyes are wide as you reach into your bag and pull out the plastic container full of cupcakes iced and ready to be decorated. In a bag you have jimmies, chocolate chips, Bill's mint cookies and a whole host of other toppings that would keep the sugar monsters in business if they were real.

"But not until after dinner," you inform her before she can lunge for the bag. She sighs as if this is inhumane torture but agrees, asking you to color with her until the lasagna in the stove finishes cooking.

You hear creaking overhead, the sound of a tap being turned on and off. You feel strange about seeing Joel after the whole flower thing. Maybe even a bit nervous. With Joel it’s so hard to know where you stand – are you friends? Employer and employee? Acquaintances? Someone he puts up with because of his daughter?

You just don’t know.

"Daddy you look pretty," Sarah tells Joel when he bounds down the stairs minutes later. You glance up from the coloring page she's been drawing on and swallow.

You have to agree with Sarah's assessment. You can now admit to yourself that Joel's an attractive guy. Tonight is no exception. His dark jeans are just the right amount of tight, the flannel is a navy that makes his skin glow and it's unbuttoned enough to showcase his lean neck.

"Thanks, babygirl," Joel says with an embarrassed flush from the attention. He notices the container in your hand and flashes his brows.

"What's that?"

"Cupcakes for decorating," you say proudly opening the container to show off your baking prowess. "And I know they taste good because my neighbor helped me make 'em."

"You made them?"

"Yeah. Want one before you go?"

"Don't want to spoil my appetite," he replies before pausing and smirking. "But maybe you could save me one?"

"Not sure," you tease. “I guess if Sarah says so. These are hers after all."

Sarah agrees, but only with the promise from Joel that she can decorate it however she wants. The two of you go back to coloring, Sarah talking about something she saw at her school. As you do this you watch covertly as Joel begins to walk around the kitchen, his eyes drifting over all the surfaces.

He paces like this for several minutes growing increasingly red in the cheeks. He rubs the back of his neck in irritation.

"Joel?" You ask with a small tug of your lips when he shoots you a questioning look.

"You been looking for your keys for the last ten minutes?"

"Yeah."

"You're holding them."

Joel looks down at his left hand to see your right and swears lightly under his breath.

Thankfully Sarah doesn't hear him.

///

"Can you come over tomorrow?" Sarah asks between bites of her decorated dessert a short while later. "We can have more cupcakes."

"Sorry bug, I got plans." You lick the icing from your fingertips.

"A date?"

You pause. She knows about dating? You consider lying to her but then decide that seems weird.

"Uh, yeah."

"You have a boyfriend?" Sarah looks up at you with interest. Or is it surprise? You try not to feel offended if it's the latter.

"Uh, not really,"' you stutter awkwardly. "Not yet. Nah, uh, I dunno."

You feel flushed. James as your boyfriend? Why hadn't the thought crossed your mind? You're sleeping with him, it seems a natural next step. So why is it such a foreign concept to you? With Paul it had been an immediate concept; you had wanted to be his girlfriend for so long. But with James? It just doesn’t flow like you thought it would.

Sarah is looking up at you quizzically so you decide to change the subject. You go to grab a cloth from beside the sink.

"What are you dressing up as for Halloween?"

Sarah pauses. "I think a puppy.”

The two of you chat more about trick or treating next week and how her friends are having a party. This gets her on the subject of parties and she starts getting excited, her tiny feet kicking out under her chair.

"My birthday is soon. I want a my little pony."

"When is it?"

"March."

You laugh out loud at this. "March is months away."

Sarah doesn't seem to mind this one small oversight and launches into how she wants to ride a horse for her birthday. You start clearing the table, half listening half thinking about how dark it is outside.

"Are you gonna have a party?"

"Yep. With purple cupcakes."

You laugh at this, continuing to wipe up the mess you've both made. Sarah rambles on about birthdays as you continue to half listen. You've had trouble focusing tonight, finding yourself glancing at the wall clock more than you care to admit.

It's Joel.

Well, no, more specifically it's Joel's date. You didn't really get to know much of her at the Bison, but there's something about Joel dating her that makes you feel iffy.

You go over to the cupboard, putting away the clean dishes and realize it’s because if things go well with Joel and his date tonight, she could be a big part of his life. Your potential friendship with Joel will be over before it even starts. No girlfriend is gonna want some random woman hanging out with her boyfriend.

And even worse, this burgeoning mentor ship of sorts that you have with Sarah will be over. Joel will have a girlfriend and they'll probably wanna do stuff together just the three of them.

"I don't have a mommy," Sarah tells you out of nowhere and breaking into your distressing thoughts.

“What?”

You spin around to face her. She's sitting there at the table still eating her cupcake if she hasn't just said something monumental.

"That's not true, Sarah. Everyone has a mommy."

"Not me," Sarah tells you with a voice that verges on pride as she looks up from her cupcake. "I was hatched from an egg like in Horton."

"Hmmm, last time I checked human babies don't come from eggs," you tell her diplomatically.

"Then where's my Mommy?" Sarah asks you in confusion.

You pause to gauge if you should continue this topic of conversation. You think it's not your place but Sarah's eyes are so trusting of you and you feel compelled.

You inhale slowly before coming to sit across from her at the table. Despite the heavy conversation her eyes are on her dessert that she continues to decorate and nibble at. But when you speak her large eyes dart to your face.

"Honestly Sarah, I don't know where your Mom is. I wish I had a better answer than that, but I don't. But I know you had a Mommy. You grew in her tummy like all babies do."

Sarah’s brows raise. "What did she look like?"

"I don't know, I never met her."

Sarah is unimpressed with this. "If I have a Mommy why doesn't she live with me?"

You feel like your fucking this whole conversation up and it's really not your place to begin with.

"Sometimes Mommies and Daddies don't live with their kids."

You don't know what Joel has told Sarah but it's not much.

"Maybe she didn't like me," Sarah says in a heartbreaking observation.

"Impossible," you intercede, launching your torso across the table and cupping both her chubby cheeks in your hands. "You are the coolest kid I've ever met, Sarah. Funny and smart."

Sarah has slumped into herself, her hazel eyes growing glassy with frustration as she pulls back from your hands. You sit back in your chair dejected. Fuck, you never should have said anything. You should have handed it off to Joel when he got back.

But he wouldn’t have done anything about it. He hasn’t for the first five years of Sarah’s life, why would he start now? Your decision is made and you take another steadying breath, internally praying that you’re doing the right thing.

"Sarah. I'm gonna tell you something that not a lot of people know about me," you start, seeing as her attention is back on your face. You add some decorations to her cupcake, trying to keep the mood casual.

"For a long time I didn't see my Daddy," you explain, placing the chocolates artfully along the icing. "He was sick a lot. Really sick. And he didn't live with us. All my friends talked about their Daddy's and I felt really left out because my Daddy wasn't around."

Sarah is staring up at you as if you've sprouted a second head. You suppose for a child it is hard for them to imagine adults as kids.

"Did your Daddy get better?" Sarah asks handing you the package of jimmies to open. "Did he come back?"

"For a bit."

"Will my mommy come back?"

"I don't know," you say wishing you had better answers.

Sarah looks deflated, her tiny fingers absently tapping the counter. You want to pull her into a hug but her body language is closed off and you need to respect that. Words are all you have to comfort her right now.

"I know it sounds weird, but you're really lucky, Sarah. Because your Daddy loves you more than a Mommy and a Daddy put together."

Sarah's eyes are large and luminous at this thought.

"Some parents are really special like that," you explain with a warm smile. "They have so much love inside of them, more love than if they were two whole people. And their kids are the luckiest in the whole world."

You can see Sarah trying to absorb this. She licks the corner of her icing laden mouth, her eyes troubled.

"Did your Mommy and Daddy love you like that?"

You hesitate before diverting her attention to a fresh cupcake that's just begging to be decorated.

///

It's not even eight when you hear Joel's key hit the front door. You hope Sarah is asleep otherwise the sound of her father's arrival will have her sneaking downstairs to see him.

"You're back so early," You say trying to sound casual as he comes into the kitchen where you're finishing cleaning up the mess you and Sarah left on the table.

"Yep."

"Date was just that good, huh?"

Joel is looking everywhere but your face. "Nice enough girl, but not for me."

You watch him shrug off his jacket, forcing yourself not to notice the way his shirt underneath strains over his shoulders.

"What went so wrong so fast?"

"Things got weird once she found out I had a kid," Joel says with grimace. "But even before that, conversation was like pullin' teeth."

"I'm sorry," you say with a frown. But something secret in you tilts pleasurably at the knowledge.

"Don't be," Joel says with a push from the counter. "Reminds me why I stayed single so long. It's a helluva lot cheaper."

"Too true," you giggle. "After Paul I swore off relationships. Too much money, too much work. Too much disappointment."

"Well, you got that James now," Joel says airily. "Hopefully he's not a disappointment."

He lets this hang between you and you find yourself blushing. For some reason you really don't like talking about James with Joel. You see as Joel reaches for his wallet and you feel your face flame at the thought of taking money from him.

“Joel, please. I was here for like, not even two hours. Don’t worry about the paying.”

“I do though,” Joel says with a creased brow. “We talked about this. You paid for all that dessert stuff outta your own pocket.”

“I know,” you nod shallowly. “It just feels weird. I… Let’s just skip it for tonight?”

Joel’s eyes dance along your face before he sighs and replaces his wallet back into his back pocket.

"I better get going," you tell him as the moment becomes awkward.

"I'm callin' you a cab," Joel insists. "It's dark and you takin' the bus can’t happen.”

"No, I - "

"C'mon. Lemme have a win tonight."

"Fine," you agree with a roll of your eyes. You watch him punch in the numbers before going back to the last of the dishes.

You feel Joel come up behind you, tensing when his hand skates along your waist, nudging you gently to the side as he reaches beside you to grab one of the mugs you've washed. It's his favorite one, green and oversized. In his hand though, it looks normal.

"How can you drink coffee this late?" You muse watching him turn on the machine. "You'll be up for hours."

"It's relaxing," Joel insists, watching the machine. "And delicious. Cab’ll be here soon."

You finish the dishes before wiping your hands as Joel pours himself his black coffee.

You were right, he is a coffee purist.

He takes it to the kitchen table, indicating with his head that you should join him. You plate the cupcake Sarah made for him, sliding the plate to him before sitting.

"Thanks. You know, I really appreciate you sittin' Sarah," Joel says around his mug. "I know it was last minute."

You shrug, letting him know without words that you didn’t mind at all. Joel is smiling softly at you over his coffee and a part of you wants to extend the serenity of the moment. But then Sarah's pinched little face from this evening swims into your head.

"Hey, this is none of my business but Sarah's got a lot of questions about her Mom," you say trying to sound detached.

"What?"

You can see Joel's shoulders tensing, his dark eyes narrowing on your face and you feel a moment of apprehension. You start to ramble as you always do when you start panicking.

"I tried my best to uh, well to talk. Like, talk to her about it but you might wanna, ya know, talk to her about it yourself."

Why were ya talkin' to her about it for?!

You can practically hear Joel's voice spitting this at you, the southern drawl more prominent when he's agitated. You're surprised when instead of ordering you out of his house with a roar he just nods sharply and then sighs.

"What exactly did you tell her?"

You swallow nervously. "I told her she wasn't hatched from an egg like Horton, whatever that means."

"Horton Hatches the Egg," Joel muses. "Doctor Seuss. We just read it last night."

"Okay, that makes more sense," you ghost a smile at the realization. "Uh, then I just told her sometimes kids don't have Mommy’s or Daddy’s that live with them but that she was lucky she had, uh, a dad like you that loves her so much."

You don't go into detail there, not finding it necessary to bare your own history with him.

You're still nervous waiting for the other shoe to drop when you confess this. But Joel doesn't look angry, he just looks impossibly tired. His lack of aggression makes you feel that you can ask your next question and you do softly, studying his down turned face.

"Can you tell me about Sarah's mom? Is that okay?"

You see the fingers of Joel's left hand tighten around the mug.

"We met about seven years ago. Uh, at a friend's party." Joel clears his throat, his eyes on his coffee. "Tommy was there actually with his girlfriend at the time. Anyway, I met Michelle, that's her name, uh, ya know and we made Sarah a couple months later."

You're nodding, trying not to press him into sharing more than he feels comfortable with.

"She wasn't planned," Joel says and you can tell her hates to say it, that it feels almost like a betrayal because she's the greatest thing that's ever happened to him. "Michelle didn't want to be a mom. When she found out she was pregnant with Sarah she almost didn't keep her."

Your eyes blow wide at this, at the thought that Sarah may not have been alive in another universe. Joel takes the fork from the plate and gently stabs at his cupcake, making no attempt to eat it.

"I told her it was her decision, even though it killed me. I even drove her to the clinic. I was so happy when she said she'd changed her mind. That she wanted to be a mom," Joel pauses to take a sip of his coffee. "I think she really thought she did at first. Tried her best. She seemed happy when I proposed and we got married just before Sarah got here. I bought us our house. Everything looked good on paper, ya know?"

You nod.

"Some people just aren't meant to be parents, I think," you say, blinking back tears that have little to do with Sarah.

Joel agrees with a sad nod. "When she asked for the divorce I wasn't even surprised. She didn't want anything, just a quickie divorce so she could move away. I think we were both just so tired of fighting for something that never existed."

"How old was Sarah?"

"Eight months."

The thought of a helpless invent Sarah floods your brain and a stab of anger for Michelle hits you hard. It makes your stomach clench angrily.

"Do you ever hate her?"

"I don't," Joel says honestly without pause. "I can't. She made me a dad, she gave me Sarah. I just never wanted Sarah growing up feeling like she wasn't wanted. Photos and talks about her Mom seem like a bad idea. "

"What about when she asks?"

"I tell her the truth. That she doesn't have a Mom because she doesn't. Michelle made that very clear, she wants no part of Sarah's life. No pictures, no phone calls, no nothin’.”

You think of tiny Sarah, perfect, sweet Sarah and how she'll always be missing that connection. It infuriates and devastates you in the same breath.

"Thought it mighta been, uh, that post pardon thing," Joel adds and you don't correct him. "But uh, she went to doctors and shrinks and turns out she wasn't sick in the head, just sick of us."

Despite the neutrality of his tone, that comment feels like a knife to the gut just hearing it. And it’s not even directed at you. More than ever do you understand Joel's inability to bring even a shadow of Michelle's presence into the home.

But you think of Sarah who feels she's been abandoned. Sarah who thinks her mother found her unworthy.

"Can I offer some unsolicited advice? From one childless woman to a father of five years?" You joke, emboldened when Joel gives you a nod. "Talk about Michelle with her. Hang up a photo or something around here. Because right now I think Sarah feels like she's living with you and a ghost."

"I'll think about it," Joel replies after a beat. He goes to say more but you hear the beep of the taxis horn outside his door.

"My ride’s here," you say standing. Joel follows suit, walking with you to the front door.

You turn to thank him for talking about Michelle with you, but the sight of him so near causes the words to get stuck on your tongue. In a rush of affection for what he's shared with you tonight you tilt forward to hug him, just a small squeeze to show him that you appreciated his candor.

However, halfway through the action you become aware of the potential intimacy of such an embrace and you panic. The momentum of your body is still going but you pull your arms back to still the movement.

This results in you smashing your head directly into Joel's sternum before belatedly pulling yourself back with a grimace.

Joel is searching your face with a crease between his brows, undoubtedly trying to decipher why fuck you just head-butted him out of nowhere.

You don't give him a chance to ask. You mutter your soft apology before rushing out the door and into the waiting cab.

////

Working with James is good. He's smart, dedicated to the work, competent and good at what he does.

Sex with James is decent. He's enthusiastic, competent and tries his best. Sort of.

Dating James. . . Is a holy fucking terror.

It’s Saturday night and you don't know what happened between the start of dinner to now but James has been talking non-stop, gesticulating wildly with his hands while he does. He mentions how much he loves spending time with you and how long he wanted to ask you out for. You blush at this, not only for the flattery but for how loud he’s talking.

He’s spilled his wine glass twice at dinner and now as he sweeps you into the movie theatre to see ‘Brains of the Undead’ he’s laughing at something you’ve said that you’re fairly certain wasn’t all that funny. He pays for your tickets, thrusting the stubs into his pocket.

You glance over at him, noting for the first time tonight that he seems off. Too animated, too agitated. It makes you feel uneasy. So you try to divert your attention to the concession stand where you join the long line has formed.

Popcorn is obviously a must, but then there’s the decision of whether or not to get a movie theatre pickle. You read the sign and mention that they can drain the juice from these pickles for you if you ask.

“What about draining my pickle?” he laughs into your ear, loud enough for the elderly women in front of you to turn around.

“James,” you warn, your face warm. Hot. He just laughs back at you, grabbing your ass before tucking you against him. You push back slightly, not enjoying the suffocation that comes with the action.

Why the fuck did I think I could sleep with James and not have it bite me in the ass? How can I dump this guy? I see him every fucking day at work.

“Gotta hit the washroom,” James sniffs before giving your cheek a peck and stalking off. You watch this before turning your attention back to the snacks in front of you. You debate the merit of Peanut M&M's versus Red Vines for a while, moving up the sluggish line before James reappears, his smile wide.

"Decide on what you want?"

You glance up at him, about to ask his opinion on licorice when something gives you pause. It's not the twitch of his nose, although that definitely doesn't help. Its that this close you can see that James' pale eyes are almost obscured by the dilated black of his pupil. He seems to notice your scrutiny because he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, solidifying your suspicions.

"Are you high right now?" you ask, nerves creeping all along your skin as realization comes over you.

"A little bump," James shrugs as if doing cocaine in the bathroom of a movie theatre is typical.

Immediately you feel your body shut down.

"Right. We're done," you insist without pausing. "I'll call a cab and see you at work next week."

"Excuse me?" James smiling face cracks.

"This isn't going to work," you tell him. "Happy to work with you, but this whole thing with us is over. I'll see you later."

James is rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "I don't get it. Can't we just -"

You hear your name being screamed out from behind you and you whirl around to see Sarah running at you full speed. Joel is jogging up behind her, his arm outstretched.

"Sarah! No!"

She slams into your hip, holding you around the stomach and squeezing. You drop to one knee as Joel approaches mouthing "sorry" at you. You wave him off as if it’s not a problem before turning your attention back on Sarah who is playing with the ends of your hair.

"What are you doing here, bug?"

"I just saw Bears Big Adventure" Sarah explains to you excitedly. "I had my own popcorn."

Your eyes dart to Joel standing next to her. He's looking between you and Sarah, his gaze unreadable before moving over your head to glare at James. You can feel James standing behind you, undoubtedly staring down at the back of your head.

"Lucky girl!" you grin, your hands at her waist. "Have you been to the movie theatre before?"

"Nope!" Sarah shouts this giggling madly. Her little sneakers bump against the red carpet as she jumps. "I got red vines too."

"That would explain all the jumping," you laugh.

"Movie's starting soon," James murmurs from behind you, brushing the back of your head with his fingertips as if you're still on good terms.

"We're not going to the movie, remember?" you say glaring up at him. "So I'm in no rush."

"Is he your boyfriend?" Sarah whispers pointing up at James who is now staring at Joel with an irritated look.

You can't help but burst out in a wheezy laugh. Imagining “James the coke head Co-worker” as your boyfriend just seems amusing in the most terrible way.

"Why’s that funny?" James asks from above you. Clearly he's heard everything and is not amused. You stand and twirl to face him, making sure to block Sarah from his view. There’s something in James that makes you wary.

"James, please.”

Joel has gathered Sarah into his arms and you feel his hand on your elbow, startling you. You glance over to see his dark eyes fixed on your face.

“You okay?” his voice is so low it rumbles. You almost think that you can feel its vibrations moving through your own body.

“Yeah,” you assure him and he drops his hand from the crook of your arm.

"Good enough to fuck but not date, is that it?" James is puffing his chest out, his eyes narrowed in anger. He motions to Joel. "You fucking this guy too?"

How didn't you see the signs? They were all there. The volatility, the paranoia, the agitation. You think back to the panic he felt when he saw his desk had been drenched. It wasn’t blueprints he was looking for that morning. It was probably his stash he kept at work.

"Cool it," you warn. "There's a kid--"

Joel has taken Sarah and moved her over to the arcade. She's still looking over at you but Joel is shoving quarters into a bright game with loud graphics to distract her.

"What, so you're bad in bed and boring?" James lashes out. You know that it's rejection that brings this ugly out in him but your cheeks still flame. Some of the theatres are emptying into the lobby, filling it up.

"Wow James, that cut me real deep," you reply in the flattest of tones. "Well done. You can go now. Maybe your dealer wants to catch a flick."

You're pulling out your cell to call a cab but James is slapping it out of your hands until it falls on the threadbare red carpet.

"You've never done drugs, is that it?" James scoffs as you pick it up and put it in your purse. "Little Miss Perfect?"

You sigh with a disgusted look in his direction. "James you need to go home. Leave me be. I'll see you at work."

You go to step towards the lobby entrance and leave, but James is following you, his voice loud.

"It's just coke! Coke doesn't hurt anyone! Just because you don't know how to have fu-"

The sentence isn't even out of his mouth and you've backhanded him. You don't mean to. Your body just spins, your arm outstretched and the feeling of his skin hitting your knuckles overcomes you. The sound snaps through the half full lobby and you immediately rear back, terrified at what you've done as people gasp and start to whisper.

"Oh fuck, I'm s-sorry."

James holds his jaw in shock, his nose starting to bleed. But if that's from you or the drugs you're not sure. Then you see the split lip and realize that one's gotta be from you. A zing of panic hits your core as James’ lip curls into an angry sneer.

"Fucking bitch."

He stalks away from you without another word. You watch him leave, your legs shaky. Some patrons are watching you and whispering to one another. Others have gone back to walking to theatres with popcorn and drinks in hand. You back up, thinking of another way to exit the theatre.

"You sure you’re okay?"

Joel is there behind you looking concerned. A large part of you wants to laugh at how horrible this moment is and that he’s there to witness it. But the larger part of you feels that sinking feeling in your gut that tells you to run.

"I'm s-so sorry Sarah saw that. That was so not okay. I'm so -"

Humiliation takes you over and you shoulder past Joel, aiming to find an alternate exit out of the lobby. You don't get far because Joel has gripping you by the elbow again, urging you to stop.

"Hey hey, slow down," he insists. "Take a minute to calm down."

"I don't want Sarah to see me like this," you explain swallowing embarrassed tears. "Just gotta call a cab and -"

"She's playing Mario, she doesn't even know we're here," Joel says motioning to her with his chin.

You look over to see Sarah's attention is indeed focused on a child's game featuring everyone's favorite Italian plumber in the arcade. You give a little sniff, blinking.

"Did she see?"

"No," Joel shakes his head. "But I did. Nice hit."

You shake your head, disgusted with your actions. "Nothing nice about it."

"From where I was standing a grown man was harassing a woman who was trying to get away from him."

"Yeah well my reaction was out of anger, not fear," you reply. "So it doesn't exactly feel defensive."

Joel's face is rarely expressive, but his eyes are. And right now they're open and reading you. The scrutiny makes you curl into yourself.

"How're you getting home?" he asks suddenly.

Your conversation is interrupted by a small Mediterranean man in a white button down and burgundy tie. He's wearing a small gold name tag that says theatre manager and giving you a heavy look.

"Ma'am I'm gonna need you to leave," he says to you in a voice full of reprimand. "We don't allow violence of any kind in here."

Your face blooms a bright humiliated red.

"Of course, I'm so sorry," you say flustered. "I'll totally leave right now. I'm so sorry."

You keep repeating this as you make your way to the front doors, too embarrassed to even say goodbye to Joel and Sarah. The manager walks with you the entire way, explaining that you cannot return for a full month. That’s fine by you, after the humiliating moment back there you never want to return again.

You step into the night air, pulling out your phone to call the cab when you see James in the parking lot sitting in his car. He's waiting for you.

Fuck.

You know that he won’t touch you, won’t chance you screaming or decking him again. But he will try to intimidate you. His mouth is still smeared with red and you feel your skin prickle at the sight.

Just, focus. What’s the cab company again? Or maybe I can just call Maria, but oh fuck is she-

You're taken aback when a large warm hand slides over yours. Joel is there at your side, looking at James in the car and then back at you. Sarah is being held in his free arm, looking at her father tensely. She can tell something is wrong; she's just not quite sure what it is.

"I'm drivin' you," Joel tells you and there is no room for argument.

Gratitude swells your heart and you nod, tightening your hand around Joel's as he leads you to his truck. James watches you leaving and you hear the squeal of his tires as he speeds off.

Joel is buckling Sarah into the back car seat and she fights him only a few seconds. The sugar is running through her system and you can see she's getting sleepy. Then Joel comes around to your side, jiggling with the handle.

“Sticks sometimes,” he says before he gives you a head tilt indicating you should get in the front seat.

Minutes later the truck is rumbling down the street and you're buckled in against the trucks bench seat. Sarah is talking to her toad in soft hushed tones behind you. Joel has put on the radio and some shitty pop is playing through the grainy speakers.

"Had a feeling that guy was trouble," Joel observes after you’ve been driving a short while.

You keep your eyes on the passing darkened landscape out your window. "You might be the only one. Everyone else thought he was great."

"I know his type," Joel murmurs, his face intermittently illuminated by the headlights of passing cars. "Used to bail Tommy out of jail more than once."

You glance over at him, shocked. "Really?"

Joel nods. "Always for getting into scraps. Mouthing off to the wrong guy. Hasn't been that way in a few years but yeah, used to be a much bigger pain in my ass."

You can't imagine the sweet Tommy you know now doing stuff like that. Your head falls back against the seat of the car and you sigh as you replay tonight’s events.

"Still can't believe I hit him," you say miserably. "So stupid."

You're leaned against the truck of the door, so that's why you assume when Joel reaches over, his palm lands on your knee because it's the closest part of your body to him

"You're being really hard on yourself," Joel observes, his thumb stroking the side of your kneecap soothingly.

You immediately bristle at the unexpected contact. His hand is wide and so warm and you stare at it, not quite sure what to make of it. He sees your eyes fixed on his hand and he brings it back to the wheel at if he's been burnt.

"I just worry it was an overreaction," you explain in a rush. "What if he calls the cops?”

“He won’t,” Joel assures. “He’d have to tell them why the fight started and last time I checked cocaine possession isn’t exactly legal.”

You feel your body relax a bit at that. That’s right; James wouldn’t go to the cops. But he now had the very obvious option of making your work life a living hell. This thought carries you until Joel has parked in front of Maria’s place, turning off the engine.

You glance behind you to see Sarah completely passed out in her car seat, her little head tilted to the side. Toad is on the seat next to her, just out of grip. You smile at her before glancing over at her dad.

Joel is staring at you, barely illuminated in the darkness. But you can feel the warmth from his gaze. For a moment you muse that for a man who keeps so much of himself hidden, sometimes his eyes give everything away.

For example right now they drop down to your mouth, staring for a beat too long. Your stomach jumps as Joel unbuckles his belt and slides across the bench seat towards you.

Holy fuck.

Joel is gonna kiss you.

His mouth nearing yours. You stay still, your eyes widening as he inches closer until …

…His hand hits the door handle, Twisting and pushing. It opens with a groan and you blink rapidly at Joel.

"Gets stuck on that side," he reminds you, his warm breath falling over your cheeks. His face is so close you could count every individual eyelash if you wanted to, but then he recedes just as fast.

"Thanks," you manage in breathy whisper. "I'll uh, I'll see you."

You fumble with your car seat as Joel’s lips quirk into a smirk. With a frustrated growl you yank it from you before rushing from the truck, your heart pounding all the way back to your suite.

You pace around the small space going over all that just happened in the last hour, your head swimming. How are you going to face James at work? How are you going to handle babysitting for Joel, now that he just witnessed such an embarrassing display? Your eyes are on the flowers Joel gave you and you find your stomach squirming strangely.

You walk towards your bed, not wanting to think about that. Wanting to delay the inevitable tick and whirl of your brain. You fall backwards into your bed, your eyes closing the minute your head hits your pillow.

You don’t know how long you’re asleep for when there is a knock at the door. It’s soft yet insistent. You know it wouldn’t be James – he’s not that stupid. Despite what you assume but be a late hour you pull yourself from bed, shuffling over to the door and pulling it open slowly.

When the door creaks open to show Joel standing on the other side you're not even surprised.

“Joel. Hi.”

His eyes move up the length of your body slowly drinking you in.

He's dressed as he was earlier, only now his hair looks freshly washed. He's half leaning against the door with his arms crossed and he gazes at you with a heated look that says everything you're both unable to admit in words.

You don't even ask him inside. You launch yourself at his mouth and he brings you into his broad arms as if he's been waiting for you to surrender.

You kiss him deeply, your elbows curling around his neck. You thighs go to wrap around his waist, your ass cupped by his wide hands. He groans as he grips you to him before he walks you into your suite, kicking the door closed behind him.

He has you on the bed, your knees squeezing into his hips as he grinds against you. He's kissing you with the fever of a man consumed, his hands fumbling with the button and zipper of your jeans before pulling them down and off. Your panties are thrust to the side and his fingers splay over your sex without hesitation.

"Need to fuck you," he groans in your ear, rubbing and curling his fingers within you. "But you gotta come on my fingers first.”

"Yes," you gasp, arching into him at the pleasurable pressure. Your own hand slides under his the bands of his jeans and boxers to find him already warm and hard. You grip him there tugging gently.

Joel hisses against your mouth before he begins bucking into your hand. His fists are twisted in the sheets next to your head, his hips rolling as your hand strokes him, your thighs clenching in response to his delightful fingers.

"Fuck that's good," he rasps against your jaw. "Shouldn't feel this good."

"Yes it should," you tell him as his mouth begins to move downwards, slipping over your clothed breasts. He's moving his hips faster now, his groans coming out in sharp little huffs.

"Gonna make me come."

"I want you to," you moan, tilting your mouth to meet his once more. "Please. Please!"

"Please what?"

You jerk awake with a muffled snort, the corner of your mouth damp. Maria is sitting across from you at her table, both of you dressed in pyjamas.

"Huh?"

The sound of morning birds outside the bright window jerk you out of your daze and you take a moment to register that you’re in Maria’s kitchen. A plate of flapjacks is in front of you, along with a half-drunk coffee. You came up here a while ago to tell her about your horrible date.

"We were in the middle of talking about what happened with James last night. I went to pour myself more coffee and I think you fell asleep?" Maria is looking at you with a raised brow. "You started saying please over and over. You okay?"

Jesus.

You can’t tell her you’ve just startled yourself from a sex dream with her boyfriend’s brother. You can’t admit that Joel’s comfort last night had been attractive to you in a way your body understood better than your brain. Instead you force a shaky smile around your coffee mug.

“Just tired, I guess.”

#something to fight for #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #dad joel miller #joel miller #pedro pascal #a03 #bill and frank #frank and bill #lgbt characters

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