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The first time it happened, they almost lost a life. Well, not really, that was an exaggeration but Etho thought they would lose a life with the scare of his life. At the time, he had been simply standing in front of their chests, organizing them while Joel was out doing Joel things, killing some cattle, harvesting, annoying people, again, the usual Joel things. From one second to the next, someone had jumped onto his back, arms around his neck in a chokehold, the added weight throwing him off balance as he stumbled, hands trying to pry the arms away.
Before he could say anything, a cheerier voice got ahead of him.
“What are you doing, Eefo?”
It triggered him, oddly enough, a sudden strength to practically throw him down. The panic was near instant, too.
He looked down at Etho with fear in his eyes, the feeling of lost hearts choking his throat and heart, his whole body frozen in place as Joel pushed himself up. He messed up, badly. He knew it was Joel, he realized as soon as he spoke, yet he overreacted and made them lose hearts. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, in his head, a ringing shadowing the frantic beats.
Joel had a temper.
Etho heard Joel had a temper.
“Rude much.”
He opened and closed his mouth, glad for the mask.
Joel simply lowered himself on the floor, splayed his limbs and… stayed there, no word about the incident, no more words about Etho’s actions, nor his own for that matter. Instead, Joel moved on about the resources he had gathered, tossing them in the air only for them to fall back onto him, disappearing in his inventory. Then he talked about the others, filling the otherwise quiet ship with his voice, never asking Etho to join. It took a while, another repeat of the incident for Etho to do as Joel did, and move on with his life as Joel whined about his Joel things.
After that, though, as he grew to know about him more and more, Etho learnt to pick up on signs. Joel, in his wolf form, was a predator. He was one, he knew the hunt as well as Joel did, though he mostly used it to predict him. An immediate silence with electricity in the air, his hands slowing down with the items lingering in his palms for seconds longer, the flicks of tails and ears, then the ambush.
“What are you doing, Eefo?!” Joel would scream as soon as he latched on, pressing his face right on his, sometimes stealing the items from his hand to examine then carelessly throw into the chest. A pause. Then another.
Joel paid no attention to the change as he emptied his inventory in the organized chests, yapping about whatever. On the other hand, Etho stood, watching items flow into the chest, intentionally frozen in place as he decided to simply… let it be. In time, Joel would hop off on his own, a couple minutes of this would not hurt either of them. On the contrary, this was better than throwing him down and making them lose hearts unnecessarily. In any case, Joel was not particularly heavy, even with all those muscles and eating habits. He could deal with that. He could live with that. That and the weird feeling he started getting every time Joel jumped on his back.
During the games, Etho made no effort to think about feelings, his personal feelings towards his friends. Alliances and friendships, temporary rivalries and fleeting grudges, all that, sure. But anything, even a layer below shallow, and he was gone.
Not Joel, though. In a physical sense. Joel was always there. Using the soulbound as easy as reading a map and compass like no one else. From one corner of the world to the other, Joel made his way to him, walking into conversations and exchanges, and even the mundane mining sessions. He had learnt to tune in that specific aspect of the soulbound, which meant that Joel rarely took him by surprise anymore, despite perfecting his ambush.
Cleo stopped mid-sentence, raising their brow as Etho waited for her to finish speaking. Knowing her, interrupting was not a good idea. Cleo would find the words, he knew, so he simply waited.
“What are you doing, Eefo?” Joel whispered instead, squinting at Cleo. Etho could not see the expression, though he could feel it. The muscles on the side of his eye moved, pressed right on his, and he could decipher from that.
“You know,” Cleo said eventually, and Etho shifted attention back to them, “I’m not even going to ask. It’s not my business. We can talk later, yeah? Don’t want to interrupt—” she gestured “—whatever this is.”
“Okay.”
She gave Etho an odd look, though he decided to ignore it, instead, turning on his heels to make his way home as it was getting late anyways. He would have time for material gathering tomorrow, and Joel would deal with the crops and animals in the morning so there was no reason they could not call it a day.
On the way back, Joel climbed up higher, and at some point in the past few days, had gotten used to wrapping his legs around his waist. Etho supposed it made hanging on easier, seeing as it took longer and longer for him to climb down, mostly leaving it up to Etho to shake him off. Joel would let go without a fight, most of the time staying on the spot a couple of minutes before kicking back into motion, like a bee buzzing all around the ship doing chores. Etho made the executive decision to simply drop him off in bed, shortly climbing on too as Joel splayed then curled up, facing him.
“You’re weird,” Joel said one day. The ship was mostly orange lights and lingering warmth, Joel’s face mostly shadows with early twinkles of stars in his eyes. No smile, no funny look in his eyes. Joel simply stared, blinked a couple times, then closed his eyes for a nap. He would drift off shortly after, very quickly, leaving Etho all alone in whatever remained of the afternoon.
It was nice, he thought randomly one night, arm under his head, Joel asleep half-on-top, lazily staring at the starry night. It was colder outside, but it made no difference with the Relation as it was. They had been together almost all day, wrecking the server as revenge for the thing taken from them. The flint and steel still burned in his hand, the fire still kissed his clothes, and the rage simmered under his blood. It was Joel, it was him, it made no difference as their hearts and souls were one. It was right, and it was nice, and it was…
It was something.
Then no longer.
They had died together in the trapped portal, hand in hand, anger and disappointment in their eyes. Then their run was over, then they went home, then they did not talk about it. It would take a bit before they saw each other again, under different circumstances though there was a spark there, burning. Always burning. It called to him. Heat in the middle of winter, he chased it. Joel had that kind of allure.
But Joel had another two now. He had his own.
The next time they met, under even more different circumstances, with different people, it was better and it was worse. He realized he needed something, something specific, from a certain someone. Cleo had brought it up subtly, bringing up his oddness, but he had failed to pick on her breadcrumbs, his mind fixated on something he could not put a name to. Only a face, only a being, but never quite knowing what exactly it was that he wanted. Or needed. Always so close, yet so far. Joel had his crew, he had his own. The game would be over eventually, and he would stew over it at home, in peace, by himself.
Until he found otherwise.
It had been a while since Joel joined Hermitcraft, integrating with the Hermits good enough. Joel had found a crew easily, people he knew and was comfortable with. It made things easier for him, Etho kept hearing. Outdoing himself every time, going above and beyond. He expected nothing less.
Though he did not expect to run into him again, despite running into him plenty before. Atop Magic Mountain, standing in a circle, Joel stood with their friends, with the Hermits he was basing with. Talking loud, laughing louder. He knew this, he knew this Joel. He fixated on him, despite the mail he needed to deliver to someone else, it was all Joel he could focus on. The wolf traits were gone, replaced with tanuki features, a tail that flicked too much when Skizz had in a choke-hold, laughing about whatever.
Without a single word, he made his way to them, steps too quiet on the grass. This was it, then, those predator skills kicking in, closing in without being noticed even though Gem and Impulse were facing him. His presence went unnoticed until he was right behind his target, who had bitten Skizz with a shit-eating smirk, arms around his sides quickly.
A pause. Then another.
Joel knew, without looking, “What are you doing, Eefo?”
He dropped his head on his shoulder, ignoring the gasps and murmurs and the question, trying to locate the heartbeat that had been his own once. His arms slid down at his hips, squeezing a little before he lifted him off the ground, standing straight and promptly turning on his heels, walking away with a member of the Magic Mountain in arms.
It took a second before the rest found their reactions, half shocked and the others offended, screaming at him to return Joel at once. He heard Gem unsheath her sword, giving chase as soon as she got her bearings, Skizz laughing, and Scar saying things that had Grian screaming at him. None of that mattered, not when Joel shifted into his tanuki form, burying his little face on his collarbone.
Still, despite having Joel in his arms, in his base, he failed to understand what the deal was. If he wanted Joel, or if he wanted something Joel could provide, or if it was something else entirely different.