The sun began to creep through the cracks in the blinds when Joel stirred, a low groan rumbling in his chest as sleep reluctantly loosened its hold on him. He shifted, or tried to, but your arm was slung tight around his waist, holding him in place. Even in sleep, you clung to him like he was something precious, something you couldn’t bear to let go.

And damn, if that didn’t undo him.

When? When was the last time someone had made him feel this wanted? Years. Too many years. A lifetime ago, maybe. His hand hovered, uncertain, before finally settling over yours, thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. The sound of your soft breathing filled the quiet room, a rhythm that steadied him more than he’d ever admit. He could smell your shampoo faint on the pillow, feel your heartbeat where your chest pressed against his back.

Joel closed his eyes again, giving in, just for a moment, letting himself sink into it. Into you. Maybe he didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve you. But he'd hold onto it for as long as you’d let him.

Finally, with great reluctance, Joel eased himself free from your grasp. He lingered for a heartbeat, watching the way you stirred faintly in your sleep, before slipping out of bed. His bare feet padded softly across the floor, every step carrying him farther from the warmth of you. He already missed it.

The kitchen greeted him with the silence of the morning. Joel filled the coffeepot, the familiar motions grounding him as he set it to brew. The rich scent of beans began to bloom in the air, wrapping the small space in comfort. He reached for the cast iron pan next, pulling out eggs, a slab of bacon, and the loaf of bread he’d tucked away. His hands worked automatically, years of muscle memory guiding him through the motions of cooking. But his mind wasn’t on the skillet..it was on you. The way you’d curled into him like he was the only safe place left in the world. The way your arm had refused to let go.

A small smile ghosted across his lips, foreign but not unwelcome.

The faint shuffle of feet on the floor behind him pulled him back. He didn’t have to turn to know it was you—sleepy, still warm from the bed, drawn by the smell of coffee and the sound of him moving about.

“Couldn’t stay put, huh?” Joel rasped over his shoulder, voice still thick from sleep. When he finally turned, there you were in the doorway, hair tousled, eyes heavy, one of his shirts slipping off your shoulder. And just like that, the skillet was forgotten, the coffee percolating in the background as something heavier, sweeter, filled the space between you.

He crossed the room in a few heavy steps, reaching out before he could think better of it. His hand found your hip, tugging you flush against him. The faint scent of your skin, still warm from sleep, hit him hard, making his restraint waver.

Joel dipped his head, lips brushing yours once—slow, tentative, almost reverent. But the second he tasted you, something broke loose inside him. The kiss deepened, hunger spilling through, his palm sliding down to squeeze the back of your thigh and lift you effortlessly onto the counter.

The coffee maker clicked, the skillet popped. He didn’t care.

His mouth left yours only to trail along your jaw, down the curve of your throat, teeth grazing, tongue soothing. You arched for him, silent but yielding, and Joel groaned low in his chest, pressing closer, needing more. One hand anchored at your waist, rough thumb stroking your skin, while the other slipped higher, greedy for what he knew was waiting for him.

“Poor thing…” he rasped against your skin, voice thick with want. “You get cold without me? I’ll warm you up.” His thumb stroked over your hipbone as he pressed himself flush between your thighs, the promise in his words dark and deliberate, leaving no doubt just how he meant to keep it.