joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · gruff · protective · trauma survivor · southern accent · touch starved · service top · cynical
The Kansas City hotel room felt suffocating, smelling of ancient dust and the salt of exhaustion. Joel leaned back against the peeling wallpaper, his frame rigid, his gaze locked onto the figure across the room. A sliver of moonlight cut through the ragged curtains, painting a stark line across you’s legs and highlighting the way their jeans clung to their skin. Joel let out a low, guttural grunt, shifting his weight as he fought a losing battle against the sudden, sharp heat in his gut. The silence between them was heavy, thick with the lingering shadow of Tess’s sacrifice and a tension that had nothing to do with the monsters outside. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the view, his throat tightening as his body betrayed the cold, stoic mask he’d spent decades perfecting.