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missdirection26 · 21 days
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I saw this and spouted a couple of thousand words.
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Summary: You’re the person in control of Jackson’s alcohol production and distribution.
You’ve been trying not to crush on Joel Miller, and having some time away to focus on producing some drinks for the winter dance in 2038 gives you some much needed time apart.
Until you see his beautifully outgrown hair…
Word count: 2.1k
Rating: Mature (just for swearing and drinking)
Tags: Jackson!Joel, Fluff, Angst with a happy ending, Romance, First Kiss
Joel Miller’s hair was going to be the death of you.
As the person with control over the alcohol distribution in Jackson, you were one of the only people allowed in Joel’s small circle of trust. Years ago when he’d joined the community with his sort-of daughter, he sought you out. You, who’d grown up working in your families distillery Before. You who were strong-willed enough to manage the most popular non-essential resource in town, and the arguments that came along with it. Joel, however, was ever the Southern gentleman.
“Excuse me ma’am, sorry to bother ya, but my brother, Tommy…he said you’re the lady I need to come to to barter for more than my assigned ration of whiskey?”
Despite his size, he seemed small in that moment. Nervous. Perhaps even shy?
“Tommy knows better than to call me a lady, ain’t ever been one of those. But he’s right about how I got the hookup. I got a distillery system set up here, raided the Jackson Hole Still Works south of here a few years back for the equipment, but production is still limited. How much you looking for?”
He stood before you, rubbing the back of his neck and pointedly avoiding contact with your eyes. You figured out later that it was lucky on your end he did that, as your usually steely will had a kryptonite in his baby brown eyes.
“Double the ration amount ongoing? I ain’t got nothing physical to trade yet, but I’ll be a full-time patroller soon if ya need somethin’. Or I’m good with my hands”
You smirked and giggled at him then, secretly knowing what he meant (Tommy had been raving on around town about his brothers contracting skills the months he’d been gone in preparation for his return), but you loved messing with guys. And watching his sun-kissed cheeks redden slightly as he realised what he’d said sent a small thrill of power down your spine.
“I…I meant buildin’. Woodwork and shit, can figure my way around a pipe too if need be. I just…” he trailed off.
That was the moment you think it all started, this stupid schoolgirl crush on a 50 odd year old man. Seeing him try not to be vulnerable with a stranger, in a strange town, in a shit world. So you take pity on him.
“Glass bottles. People are suppose to return them, but accidents happen and we have less and less all the time. They’re also heavy so patrollers don’t like to carry them back, but thats usually the currency I have with the others. Lets say average one bottle a patrol, and I get you on retainer for repairs or building work I need, and you got a deal” you stated confidently, stepping closer and held a hand out to seal the deal. Little would you know, this moment would become your undoing.
For years, you two circled around each other, waltzing around the energy you emitted. He’d come to the small distillery you ran out of an old restaurant every week, with a few precious glass bottles, and had a small stilted conversation as you updated your logs with the exchange. You learned he had a dry sense of humour like yours, that you could make the corners of his lips turn upward with a bit of town gossip, and that he’d set up a woodworking room in his house when Ellie move out to the garage. The last one came along with the first of many gifts he started giving you. Tiny little creatures he’d began whittling after the endless downtime of town living had started grating on him. On the house he’d say every time you offered a bottle of beer in exchange, giving you lip on not understanding the concept of a gift.
For years, you danced. You knew Joel didn’t feel anything like that towards you, he’d been very clear about that. A couple of years back, Tommy set him up on a date with the lady who ran the greenhouse - Esther you think? She wasn’t one for drinking so you had no clue about her really - and Joel spent a good portion of your weekly chat groaning on about the upcoming thing. You bantered back like always, but tiny pinpricks hit your heart at how adamant he was about not needing a partner like that. And honestly, it’s not something you’d ever wanted either, especially after losing Talia sometime before Joel even joined Jackson. You thought you’d had your one love, and the pain of losing another had you bat off any attention with your wit and sass, sticking to harmless flirting. But Joel had somehow nudged his way in. You resolved to start building the walls back up.
It had been easier recently. With the winter being so harsh, socialising as a town had reduced, and the council were worried about morale. Ergo - The Winter Dance.
Social events were regular in Jackson, but the council were determined to go all out with this one, wanting to coax as many residents out and having fun as possible. So for the first time, they wanted a full open bar. Usually there was a limit to keep the town from running totally dry, but some sweet talking from Maria and a promise of another raid of Jackson Hole Still Works had you agreeing to overproduce for a month before the dance to create enough supply. This meaning you and a few trusted ‘employees’ were basically living at your makeshift distillery, no time for any sort-of flirting with a certain bearded Texan.
What this also meant was that after a whole month of not laying eyes on the man, you were not prepared for the fact that he’d somehow decided to grow his hair out a bit for the winter. So when you enter the Church where the dance is being held, and you see the man leaning against the makeshift bar, you’re not prepared at all, and with the exhaustion reducing your self control, the walls came tumbling down.
Thankfully, he didn’t spot you as you entered or you knew your face would have given you away, so focussed on something in the crowd. Your eyes followed what he was looking at, and a small smile upturned the corners of your lips. Out on the dance floor was your old lover's sister Dina (who you also thought of as a sister), with her arms around Joel's now grown kid, Ellie. You hadn’t spoken much to Dina recently, after her turning 18 and joining the full-time patrol team keeping her busy, but after her on-off with Jesse the past few years, you were just glad she seemed to be moving on.
You were so focussed on the young girls, you hadn’t realised you had company.
“So you are alive. Still not used to trustin’ people, so I’m mighty glad to see ya hear tonight to prove ‘em right”
Fuck. That stupid goddamn Texan drawl. You had enough self-restraint to not look over to him, knowing that either his baby brown eyes or the new hair growth so perfect for running your hands through would be your undoing.
“Well, the Council thought it would be good for the town if everyone could get white girl wasted, so who am I to deny that request?”
You heard him snort gently next to you. The next few seconds passed in agonising silence (for you at least) before the man consuming your soul made a sound.
“So does she partake in her own goods?”
You whip your head round to look at him, confusion masked on your face, forgetting about the incandescent curls you were about to see.
He’s attuned to your facial expressions by now.
“I mean, can I get you a drink?” he mumbles, gesturing weakly to the bar in the corner where all your hard work for the past month resides.
If you had to stand there any longer, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist grabbing those goddamn curls, so without warning, your legs took off, striding you fast and efficiently towards your goal - some fucking liquid courage.
Jeff - one of the bartenders who drew the short straw to work the dance - knew you well enough to have a double whiskey neat, ready for you to slam back the moment you were close enough.
“So you ain’t a nurse your drink kind of gal, good to know”
The fucking Texan drawl had followed you. Of course, he had longer (and so sexy and thick) legs that’d easily keep up with your small stature.
You shoved your glass back toward Jeff, before taking a deep breath and steeling your resolve as you looked back to Joel. Fuck he looks so fucking hot. You can do this, it’s just one night.
“I’ve just spent the past month pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into all this. Think I deserve to drink it however I please thank you!”
Phew. Not awful. Not as witty as you might usually be, but given the fucking hair situation, you were doing your goddamn best,
The heat emanating off him as he scooched closer to you wasn’t helping though.
“Well, I’m grateful for your effort ma’am, this is a mighty fine batch you made”
You couldn’t help but smile at that. With resources slimmer as the years go by, the quality of the alcohol you distilled varied. Joel was always an honest judge, something you’d grown to respect over the years. You knew his words were true, and fuck if it didn’t worsen your resolve.
But he wasn’t interested in you like that - in anyone. So you used the remainder of your self-control to change the subject.
“Didn’t peg you to be a community event attendee Miller, thought this was all a bunch of communist bullshit last I heard?”
He snorted a bit louder this time, somehow still ridiculously attractive.
“I was threatened from multiple angles. Ellie and Tommy together could arguably be more formidable than FEDRA when it comes to forcing me to do shit I don’t wanna do”
Inwardly, you sighed. It was nice that Joel had people who cared about him like this of course, but it just reminded you of what you didn’t have. Dina checked in occasionally, feeling a bit responsible for the woman her sister loved, and although you were friendly with most of Jackson given your role, no one cared enough about your wellbeing to force you to do something you didn’t want to do but would be good for you. Totally your fault of course, you didn’t let many people close enough for that. Still…it ached.
“Woah, hey there girlie, you with me? You started drinkin’ before you got here maybe?”
Fuck. SHIT. You got stuck in your head, and now your stupid hot crush was having to guide you gently out of the church as you slowly came back to your senses.
It was only once you’d turned a corner and were alone with him that you returned fully to your body - realising his large, calloused hand was gently gripping your upper arm.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry Joel, that hasn’t happened in a really long time. I think I’m just tired, with all the extra work and all-”
He quickly interrupted you by turning to face you head on.
“Girlie, you don’t gotta apologise, it’s kinda nice to see you be a bit human for once”
And as you looked up at his face, you saw the softest and kindest expression you’d ever seen on the survivors face, some of his previously slicked back curls popping out in the cold, forming a slightly wild halo to frame him. He was the most beautiful creature you’d ever seen, and you physically couldn’t stop yourself from stepping into his space, and reaching up a hand to gently run through his curls.
Those baby brown eyes widened slightly in shock, but otherwise he didn’t move for what felt like eternity as your fingers were buried and surrounded by his brown and grey locks, pushing through them reverently.
Slowly, one of his hands found your waist and gently tugged you forward as his other hand found your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek. You were totally aware of your body, every feeling, but you no longer had control. And as his head tilted down to meet yours, his lips grazing on yours, you never wanted control of your body again if it meant depriving you of this feeling. You could feel him moving out of pure instinct like yourself, and despite it just being a kiss, you realised deep in your gut, that this was the start of something physically and spiritually breathtaking
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