#I couldnt be bothered to proof read the ending so best of luck folks

[zipperzoo]

TOO SWEET (WHISKEY NEAT)

The Last of Us (2013 - 2024) Joel Miller x f!reader (one use of a gendered word) Word Count: 2.3k A03 Themes: Alcohol, Age Gap, Fluffy, Cute, Winter, First person, one-shot, SFW Summary: Inspired by Hozier's new banger, too sweet and those fantastic Joel miller edits to the song. I just got three things to say: God bless our troops, God bless The last of us and GENTLEMEN- START YOUR ENGINEEESSSS

Orange light of the Tipsy Bison was a welcoming one. After a long week of patrolling and harvesting, the whole town put together a game night. One that had been planned in advance and had plastered posters across every fence of the large commune. 

The blue hue of the evening helped illuminate the inside of the boisterous bar. A contrast of the warmth and the harsh cold outside drew people further inside. The heart of Jackson- makes sense for it to be a classic country tavern.

Despite that, outside stood a silhouette, one hunched over the railing that just nestled outside of the walkway.

Like a guard dog.

The large figure caught my eye while I laughed with the crowd I was with. The bustling of lively folks and chatter was soon washed out as I saw in the corner of my eye that shape.

He captured my full attention.

Turning my head slightly to see the man better. Leaning back to see past the person who sat beside me who was blocking the view.

Frowning to myself, I grabbed my drink from the bar. Nudging past the crowd to then open the glass door just ajar. Maybe it was my curiosity or the alcohol in me that brought out the sociable nature but I wanted to disturb that person’s peace.

Hit in the face with the frosted air, goosebumps run up my arms, it was an unsettling change from the warm and cozy heat from inside that still warmed my back. 

I winced slightly to then look up at the silhouette. Little light that was outside haloed his figure. Looking like an angelic painting. 

It was that poetic artistic appeal that struck me or the cold that was sobering me up. Either way, I wasn't going to argue against something that was visually appealing. Like a scene from a cinematic masterpiece.

Completely committing to the idea of going outside, I pushed myself outside and gently shut the door behind me. Zlip locking the chatter inside the building, locking it away to then have the peaceful quiet.

Wrapping one arm around me while one hand still held my ice hold drink, making my fingers go numb. 

I moved further outside with the goal to talk to this person, or at the very least check if they are okay.

The figure wore a tan coloured coat, with the orange glow from the windows it was hard to tell if it was heavy cotton or corduroy. His hair just fell over the collar. Long with gray streaks peaking through as it curled.

“Cold huh?” I mumbled just loud enough for the man in front of me to catch. In response he tensed his shoulders and stood up straight from his lean. He hadn't heard me close the door, let alone the disruption of the quiet that came with the bar door opening, but did hear me speak.

I was mistaken, this person did not act like a guard dog- more like a moose caught in the woods alone. Alert and easy to scare.

I felt like a rookie out hunting, seeing the slow and magnificent creature and I made the beginner mistake of walking up to it and my callout was the snap of a twig that started it.

He shifted slightly and turned his head halfway, seeing me. I saw his ragged appearance, and worn expression. 

It was Joel. 

Joel Miller.

Joel the quiet rough guy that mainly kept himself to himself besides his brother Tommy or the girl he looked after Ellie. It was hard to see this guy on his own, he was always with either of the two.

When he was on his own though, it very often was naturally uncomfortable. He just had that sort of atmosphere around him.

I remember very vividly when I went on a patrol with Joel. It was just to show me the general route, it was all new to me at the time. I just remember trying to strike up a conversation and he would shell up. Giving one sarcastic response or ignoring what I said. 

Kind of like meeting your friend’s dad for the first time. The same awkward silence and blunt statements of testing the waters to then bad jokes. Often repeating Ellie’s bad puns.

It would have been more pleasurable to rip my own fingernails.

“Hmm.” He hummed. 

I assume it was a response to my comment or to my presence. He moved back to his previous comfortable lean.

I slowly shuffled towards him rubbing my arm to then lean my arms down besides him onto the railing. Not too close to him but also not too far. Just enough space that my shudder of the cold couldn't be sensed- I hoped.

“Enjoying the party?” I nodded back towards the bar. Joel barely moved his head to face me, instead just side glanced to then hum again. Not uttering a word. 

It didn't seem like he wanted to talk. It is just like that patrol we went on.

I inhaled a sharp breath and asked “What’s your poison?” He took a sip, standing up straight and rolling his shoulders. Moving his upper body to then lean one arm on the railing to face me. 

“Whiskey.”

“Ah you do speak.” I teased, giving him a smile. In response he gave me a lopsided smile. “So… Whiskey and out in the cold.” He raised his eyebrows slightly expressing amusement in my comments, slowly warming up to my company but still very much keeping me distant with his blunt replies. “Just wanted some fresh air.” To that he leaned back forward, turning his attention away from me.

“Well the air sure is fresh.” I shivered slightly. “Why don’t you come back inside? I think Maria is about to start another round of card games.”

“I’m fine, you go back inside, you’ll catch a chill.”

“And you won't?”

“I’m wearing a coat.”

“You're old though.” 

A big smile grew on his worn face. “Old huh?”

“Don’t old people get cold.”

He rested his glass on the railing to then move to face me, standing up straight. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Enough.”

“Enough to bother an ‘old man’ who just wanted some fresh air.” He wrapped his fingers around his whiskey glass once again.

“Enough to give an old man who is possibly freezing to death some company.”

“I’m fine kid, I don't need company.”

He was far more chatty than usual, no thanks to the whiskey I bet. “Entertain me for a bit then?”

“Entertain you?” He chuckled, turning to face me, taking a sip of his drink.

His cheeks were slightly rosy, pepper kissed with a strawberry hue. There was do doubt about it. He was merry with his whiskey. 

“Yep, entertain me. I’m bored of the folks in there.”

He reached up his hand to scratch his jawline, turning to look out into the roads of Jackson once more. “I’m not one for company.”

“Oh but, Mr Miller, I’m in dire need of some company that only a miserable and tired old man such as yourself could fill.”

He let out another low chuckle at my dramatic act. “Think you're funny huh?”

“I’m the sweetest.”

With that, he rolled his head back to look at me. My goofy grin I didn't realize I had melted just as I took in his appearance. The way his long hair just swooped over his face, the scar on his nose. The harsh and deep wrinkles that suited his face better than I dared not imagine him without them. His hair was well groomed as was his beard, full and well trimmed. 

��“And I like my whiskey neat.” He muttered. Not paying attention to his words, The way his smile lines just made me feel slightly fuzzy inside made my mind run blank. “Hm? Come again?” He flashed his teeth as he looked away, smiling to himself. I'm guessing. Finding amusement or disbelief of my entire play by play of some sort of hazily morning day dream. “I’m agreeing with you- that you're sweet.”

“Aw, and here I thought that you were a lonely loner old man who had no idea about sweet things.”

“I do prefer bitter things.” 

“Like what? coffee?” “Exactly.”

“Doesn't hurt to have a splash of cream or maybe a little sprinkle of sugar,”

“You just won't take no as an answer wont you?”

“You're having fun aren't you though?” I nudged him playfully and at that he crackled a laugh, a drunken laugh. It was a little rough sounding but it was a pleasant sound. 

It made me feel at ease. I had completely forgotten I was freezing with the rush of adrenaline this entire conversation was giving me.

Completely strange now to recall how hard it was to talk to him, now it felt… Natural. Liquid courage was to thank for that. It softened up his hard edges, just enough he was approachable. I honestly didn't expect him to be like this, if this side of him was more well known across Jackson then he would be far more popular than Tommy. 

“Oh.” He cleared his throat to then shift his weight. “I’m having the time of my life.” his voice dripping with sarcasm. I could drink it up, that Texan accent with that sarcasm with a drunken smile on his face.

It could make me blush. Maybe I was blushing already, it was hard to tell with jack frost nipping at my cheeks and nose.

Raising my drink to my lips, but before I take a sip, I feel courageous. “So, cowboy, why are you here on your lonesome?” I take a sip of my drink, forgetting how strong and sweet my drink was, trying to withhold a reaction.

“As I said, I just wanted fresh air.”

“Outside ‘The Tipsy Bison’?”

I had the feeling he didn't want to argue or bite back anymore, as he just hummed in response then took another sip of his whiskey. 

“Humour me for a moment and could you do me a favour?” That caught his attention, looking at me, waiting for me to continue. “This is-” I pinch my nose bridge, slightly feeling the embarrassment rise up as the question ponders in my head. I sighed “Would you dance with me?” I murmured out finally.

He pushed himself from the railing, leaning one hand against it, holding all his weight. Raising one brow at me as he parted his lips. I guess I was kind of confused by my request.  

“Dance with you?” 

I was too nervous suddenly to respond, I just nodded. He smiled at me and shook his head, placing his glass down on the railing and standing in front of me, firm and steady with his cheeks flushed. 

He looked adorable. How can a man his age and of his terrifying nature be adorable. 

Holding his hand out towards me lazily, I took that as his answer. I couldn't help but have one big goofy childish grin on my face. It felt like a small win. 

Placing my ice cold fingers into his hand, he wrapped his warm ones round them. He flinched slightly- possibly at the realization at how cold I am. Rubbing his thumb over my fingers slowly warming them up.

The calluses of his fingertips were coarse, adding to his textured hands already with his rough and hard touch. It felt like I was brushing my hands over expensive but well worn leather.

“Alright, one dance,” he whispered. Leaning a little closer to me, I could smell the bitter whiskey on his breath. “Then you’ll best go back inside before you freeze to death.”

My expression softens up, I tug on his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Promise.” “Atta girl.” 

He didn't wait a second longer for me to possibly change my mind, Joel moved to the centre of the wooden boards outside the bar. Hovering one hand over my waist, encouraging me to follow him centre. Hesitating to touch me anymore than he already was with my hand.

Letting him practically drag me along, I gripped one hand onto his shoulder as my hand he held dug my frosty tips into his. He must have found it uncomfortable because he let go of my hand to then intertwine our fingers just so it was easier to hold. A selfish part of me thought maybe to also warm my fingers up better.

Moving my overhand to rest on top of his shoulder, he then confidently finally placed his hand onto my waist.

Taking the lead, Joel began to sway, step by step. I followed like a good drunk dancing partner.

It was so strange. We were in our own little bubble. Inside the bar looked completely unbothered and unphased by us outside. No one had noticed that I even left.

Even if anyone had looked outside and saw us they probably would have written it off as two drunk and merry folk just enjoying the music inside, the strums of the pedal steel that just seeped through the walls.

It was the perfect disguise. I can’t speak for Joel, but I selfishly and unapologetically enjoyed this, in a way you think you are the main character. The way you feel sunlight for the first time after a long and dark winter. The way you think the world revolves around you when folks beam when they see you.

It felt like a moment in a romance novel that made you feel warm and cosy. 

This isn't love of course, this is just two drunk people enjoying one another's company. But I think to fall in love with this man if he allowed it would feel like the world stood still but also spun too fast for anything to make sense.

A privilege. One I’ll probably day dream about often and use this moment as a starting point. 

As I let my mind wonder it's intoxicated thoughts, I closed the gap between us and rested my head on his shoulder and hummed along to the tune that was faintly heard.

He joined in with his soft humming.

How sweet, a man who came across so bitter would be so sweet on just a bit of whiskey.