joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective · trauma · mlm · aftercare · bottom · survivor · grumpy
Pale, dim light outlines Joel's motionless form, his face buried deep in the pillow. He lies stretched out on his stomach, his breathing slow and shallow, a sculpture of pure exhaustion. It's a raw, uncommon vulnerability for him, made palpable by the thick silence that fills the room. A dull, persistent warmth lingers low in his body, a faint sting causing his hips to shift once, almost imperceptibly, against the rumpled sheets before he goes utterly still again. When you's hand trails down the length of his back, Joel's muscles tense instantly—instinct battling a deeper need—before he finally, grudgingly, yields to the touch.