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Joel doesn't notice it at first. The way you look at him sometimes or how you always want to be held, some part of your body seemingly always connected to his. The way you become a little more childish around him, more playful when the safety he radiates lets you forget about your troubles for a while, when you can just be .
He thinks it's just part of the two of you becoming whatever you currently are - you both don't like labels. But there's been a shift, one that has progressed from neighbors to friends to friends with benefits to - to something else. And with time, he starts to notice.
It's late when he comes home on a friday night, one of the nights where he often stays at the construction site until dark or attends another public class that takes place in the local high school, learning how to start his own firm, a plan that keeps being put off for other things.
He turns the engine of his truck off, climbing out of the vehicle, carrying his construction belt and hard helmet in one hand- the one you've been pestering him to wear, reminding him that his face is way too pretty to get hit by a falling brick.
The automated porch light turns on just as he comes into view, his eyes immediately flying to your form on the small step that leads up to the suburban house. He stops in front of you, a small sigh escaping him as he tries to make out your face in the darkness, “Whatcha doing here?”
It doesn't sound like an accusation because you know it isn't one. Your eyes are trained towards the ground, wandering over his heavy work boots for a moment, “Waiting for you?” Joel nods, kneeling down in front of you so that you're on the same level and you can feel his gaze on you, “And how long have you been waiting here?”
A shrug is all the reply he gets and another small sigh leaves his lips as he brings one hand towards your face, nudging your chin up to get a look at you.
He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, already racking his brain for the possible reasons. There's been some exam this week, he's certain, and he knows from experience that you don't deal too well with stressful days. Your eyes meet his and his form softens slightly, “How about we go inside, hm?”
He does talk to you like one would to a child, gentle and patient. Then, you watch as he leans towards you, a small groan escaping him at the feeling of his back as he picks you up. Your legs automatically wrap around his hips as he makes his way towards the front door, fumbling with his keys for a moment. Your head is resting on his shoulder, face buried in the warm skin of his neck and you can feel his throat vibrating as he speaks, “You ate yet?”
A soft shake of your head is all you can manage, a gnawing feeling settling in your stomach that is not hunger but rather the knowledge of having disappointed him.
He sets you down on the kitchen counter eventually, after turning on the lights and hanging his construction belt and helmet up on a hook by the door.
His hand stays on your thigh, occasionally giving it a gentle squeeze as he pulls some bread and cheese out, placing a pan on the stove and beginning to prepare some food. The smell of grilled cheese fills your nostrils a few minutes later and Joel gently pats your thigh to get your attention.
You sit in relative silence on the couch as you eat, the warm cheese melting in your mouth as you listen to the sounds of a dog barking outside and those of Joel chewing next to you. He is the one to break the silence.
“I'm getting you a key tomorrow,” he states matter-of-factly before taking the last bite of his sandwich and putting his plate onto the small couch table. “Ain't want ya sitting out there while you wait for me, gonna catch your death like that.” You nod along softly, your mouth suddenly becoming very dry. Your hands search the floor next to you for a bottle and find some water. Joel watches you as you take a few eager sips and it only adds to his concern.
“Baby, we gotta talk about this,” he mutters and his hand finds your knee again, stroking up and down your lower leg with the way you have them drawn up to your chest, your feet resting on the couch you're sharing, “Talk about what?”
Joel sighs a little, “Whatever this is. You don't think I haven't noticed, recently?” You bite your lip, anxiously looking over at him, expecting something in the chocolate brown eyes that resembles judgment or at least anger.
All you find is concern.
Neither of you has to name it. You both know what youre talking about. The constant need for reassurance, the need to have at least one body part intertwined at all times, the nickname you whisper to him occasionally when you're so lost in your passion that it just slips out of your mouth without your control.
Joel takes a deep breath, seemingly pondering over what to say very carefully. It still catches you off guard, “I ain't your dad.”
“I know,” you reply instantly, almost automatically. His eyes never leave your face, searching for a reaction that he is sure will come, already seeing thin tears spring into your eyes.
“That doesn't mean I can't take care of you,” he says so softly it makes you wanna bawl right there, “But you gotta talk to me about these things. I can't help ya if you don't.” Joel isn't usually one for talking but this is different and you both know it. He waits a few moments before going on, his fingers still running up and down your leg reassuringly.
“He wasn't good to ya, was he, darlin'?” Joel asks softly and he can feel the way your body tenses up at the topic, your hands nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “Is that why you like me taking care of you?”
You swallow hard, trying to hold the tears back as you give a jerky nod, stumbling over your own words, “You, uh, you make me feel safe, I guess. Like you'll protect me and- I know it's stupid.” Joel shakes his head, bringing his free hand up to gently stroke your cheek. His thumb runs over it just in time to catch the first tears.
“It ain't stupid. And I will protect you,” he says gently, leaning further towards you as he pushes on. “That why you like calling me daddy sometimes?”
Another nod from you and Joel sighs, relieved that at least you're able to have some sort of conversation about this. He sits there patiently, waiting for you to speak, “I didn't mean to, it just slipped out and-”
He stops you, squeezing your leg a little, “Darlin', I don't mind it. I just wanna know what's going on. If calling me that feels right to you, you can do it.”
Your eyes finally meet his, slowly looking up through thick lashes wet with tears. It's not what you expected him to say but now that he has, you realize that you should've known. He's never complained about it, never not taken care of you when you asked him to, never left you sleeping on the couch when you fell asleep after promising you wouldn't. He always brings you up to his bed, wrapping you into his thick blanket, gathering you in his arms and letting you sleep on his chest.
It's a few hours later, the credits of a movie rolling by on the tv and you catch a few of the names appearing on the screen as Joel moves to lower the volume. Your head is resting against his shoulder, one leg draped over him and you can feel him move to put the remote down.
A gentle, soft hand pokes against his leg, demanding his attention and almost instantly his gaze is focused on you. You move your leg slightly, attempting to move yourself further onto him and a low chuckle comes from his throat as he reaches to grab you by the waist, strong hands moving you onto his lap.
“Better?” You nod quickly, pressing your hands against his chest, the gray fabric of his shirt soft against your skin, “Better.”
You both stay quiet for a moment, just drinking in how close and comfortable you are in this moment with no one and nothing to disturb you. He feels so safe.
“Does it really not bother you?”
Your voice is quiet and he can tell you're scared to ask, still uncertain about his feelings.
“No,” he says firmly, squeezing your side a little to make you look at him. “No it doesn't, “ he repeats kindly. His voice drops slightly as he goes on, “If you want a daddy to take care of you, I will.”
And- fuck. He's got you. Just hearing the nickname repeated back to you, the way it so easily rolls off his lips has your stomach twisting with warmth and something else.
Joel smirks a little at the obvious reaction, his hand wandering down your back and patting your butt gently, “Is that what you want?” His voice is still low and so, so soft and it prompts you to nod eagerly, your own hands beginning to wander as well, eventually resting on the broad, strong shoulders of the man below you.
He is good to you. Even when it seemed like the two of you would be nothing more than a convenient hookup, living in the same cul-de-sac in suburban Austin, he was better to you than any of the boys at college had ever been.
From the first time you ended up in his bed, he seemed to map out your body, to learn which spots made you shiver, which way he needed to aim his thrusts and which words pushed you over the edge.
So it should be no surprise now that he seems to know the same way with the current situation, just know what he needs to say and do.
“Words, darlin',” he reminds you gently and you continue your nodding as you speak, “Yes. I- that's what I want. Please.”
The fire that he has lit in your stomach is already burning bright and loud, filling your chest up to the brim and making you feel all the more empty in your core.
“Please, what?” He mutters under his breath as a strong hand slides to your front, his fingers teasing the waistband below. Your own breath catches in your throat at the question and you feel your muscles clenching down, “Please, daddy.”
Joel hums softly, clearly satisfied with the response as he sneaks his hand into your pants, finding his way to the wet heat awaiting him. “That's a good girl. There we are,” he praises as he gently begins to move a thick digit through your folds, drawing a soft whimper from you.
It's not enough. It's too slow and not inside and too small and you whine impatiently, “I want you. Please, I want you inside, Joel, please inside-” You can feel his bulge below you and you're not entirely sure if you imagine it or if his cock actually twitches at your begging.
He seems to consider your request for a moment, bringing one finger between your folds and gently moving it in and out, setting a steady, gentle pace. You try to wiggle against his hand, to get more friction from his hand and a small hum leaves Joel's throat at your actions, “You really that impatient today, baby?”
“Y-Yes, I need- I need you, please, Joel, I need to feel you-” You whimper, long having abandoned all pride. His hand leaves your pants and you whine at the loss, prompting him to coo softly, “It's okay, daddy's right here. Let me make it better.”
You help him slide down your pants and then open his belt and jeans. You lick your lips as you find his cock practically staring back at you, glistening in the low lights, the tip red and smeared with precum. It makes your mouth water.
Joel holds you up by your waist, gently lowering you onto himself. He tries to bite back a groan but it only causes him to let out a high-pitched whine instead. You join in with his noises, whimpering as you feel him stretching you with barely any preparation. Your hands are placed firmly on his shoulders, squeezing down on them as your body welcomes Joel inch by inch.
“That's it, baby. Goddamn, you're tight today,” he grunts, teeth clenched as he finally bottoms out and you both groan with the feeling of being as close, as connected as you possibly can.
Slowly, Joel starts using the leverage on your waist to begin moving you, his own hips thrusting up to meet yours and he starts moving in and out of you as you whimper and moan, your eyes closed with pleasure.
Neither of you last very long, you too eager and him too focused on joining you in your peak. You squeeze his shoulder a little harder than necessary when you whisper into his ear, “Go harder, please. Make me forget everything.”
It's a request that makes Joel equally horny and emotional. But it's also one he's more than willing to fulfill, changing his angle and pounding into you with more of his strength. The change in your body is imminent as your legs begin to shake and your breath comes in faster, both indicating that you will be done all too soon.
“Like this?” Joel asks, his voice raspy and a little shaky as he continues driving himself into you, “This what you needed? To have me fuck you cock-stupid?”
You let your head fall forward as you nod, one hand moving to his neck to pull him closer and kiss him, sloppy, wet kisses that leave you with even less breath than before. When you pull away to catch your breath, his lips hovering in front of yours, “You gonna be for me good, baby? Gonna come on daddy's cock, squeeze him like you always do?” He feels you beginning to clench around him and edges you on, a never stopping flow of loving and dirty words against your skin, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck- you feel so good, darlin'. Go on, come for me.”
That's all it takes and you fall apart above him, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you barely notice him tensing up and emptying himself inside of you, only a few grunts and whimpers and indication of him planting himself between your walls.
Your head is resting on his shoulder again as both of you catch your breath, him occasionally humming soft praise into your ear. When he moves to pull out, you let out a small grunt, placing yourself firmly on his softening cock. His gaze lingers on you, a little questioning.
“Can we just stay like this? Just for a bit?” You ask quietly, not yet wanting to let go of the delicious feeling of him inside of you, of being intertwined in the best way you know.
Joel nods, using his arms around you to pull you further into his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “ 'Course we can, darlin'. We can stay like this.”
You fall asleep while he's still inside of you.
He carries you to bed a while later, tucking you in and holding you just like he always does. A dim bedroom, holding two bodies that become one during the night.