Chapter Text
10th Spring - Year 1 - 0 Hearts
You frown to yourself as you flex your muscles in front of the mirror. You know you are a strong guy, put a lot of effort into maintaining your strength, know that your muscles looked pretty impressive if you may say so yourself.
But you frown again thinking about the new competition.
You’d always been the buffest resident of Pelican Town. Sure, Clint had some bulk to him but it was mostly stomach with some barely-maintained muscles underneath. But this new farmer really blew you out of the water.
The man is a good foot taller than you, a few years older maybe, and he has a naturally broad set to his shoulders. You rub at your own chest as you think of the rolling muscles you could often see sitting dormant under the larger man’s flannel, or peeking out of the open v when he chose to leave a few buttons undone. The farmer definitely has a little stomach on him, and you take pride in running your hands over your own flat midsection. But honestly the little bit of flab only makes him look stronger, made him look more like a weight lifter and less like a superficial body builder. It makes sense that the man would need real strength in his line of work. You wonder how the soft stomach would feel under your hands, imagine the skin would be extra hot, warming your hands as you slid them up to the impressive pecs-
You rip your hands away from your own body. This was getting weird. This was a weird thing to think about a guy.
13th Summer - Year 1 - 3 Hearts
Two days ago had been the town’s Luau, you hadn’t brought anything to put into the soup, but you’d happily taken part in eating it alongside the other townsfolk. You were kind of happy that Sam hadn’t been able to ruin it this year.
The farmer had brought one of the strawberries he had left from his spring harvest, and honestly it had bumped up the quality of the soup a good deal. It was definitely the best the soup had been for a good while, and the farmer had left a good impression on all the citizens of Pelican Town for his efforts- yourself included.
Today is your birthday, and you wake up in the early morning, keen to spend the day on the beach before you left to run the ice cream stand. You can smell the scent of cooked eggs coming from the kitchen and your mouth starts watering. Your should have guessed your grandmother would cook up a special breakfast for you on your birthday.
But when you reach the kitchen you see a large, imposing presence sharing the space with your grandmother. The farmer stands beside her at the stove, chatting politely as he pulls a fresh tray of cookies from the oven for her.
“Oh, Alex darling,” Your grandmother’s voice made you realise you’d been staring at the farmer, so you rip your eyes away, embarrassed. “This lovely young man has stopped by with a nice breakfast for you.”
You look to the table for the first time and see a plate positively overloaded with food- eggs, pancakes, bacon, toast- your stomach rumbles and your mouth waters anew.
“Just something to say happy birthday!” The farmer smiles, the grin reaching his eyes and crinkling them up endearingly. The taller man lays a broad hand on your shoulder and you feel small, but weirdly you don’t seem to mind. The hand is hot through your shirt and is big enough to cover most of your shoulder. You feel a blush rising in your cheeks, which only serves to fluster you more.
“Oh, is it my birthday today?” Your voice cracks a little and you resist the urge to facepalm in front of everyone. “I guess it is. Thanks, this is nice.”
The farmer was smiling again, dazzling and endearing, and the feeling in your chest is definitely not one of jealousy.
“Well, I’ll let you get to it, I have chickens that need feeding.” The farmer nods to you and gives your grandmother a brief kiss on the cheek, making her smile spread wider, before he ducks out the door with a little wave to your grandfather.
You sit down at the dining table, somehow breathless from that short encounter, and pick up the cutlery. You’re unsure how the farmer managed to bring over a whole plate of breakfast and keep it piping hot, but sure enough you can see steam rising from the freshly cooked eggs. You dig a fork in eagerly and gracelessly shovel food into your mouth. You can’t stop the moan that comes when the food hit your tongue, the eggs were seasoned amazingly, obviously fresh from his own chickens. The pancakes were hardy and sweet, the bacon somehow cooked to the perfect crispiness, the toast made with very fresh bread. With every bite you could practically feel yourself liking the farmer more, and it isn’t long at all before the plate was empty.
16th Fall - Year 1 - 7 Hearts
You let out a low whistle to the farmer beside you as you took in his grange display. It is certainly the most impressive of all the displays, all his crops looking truly spotless, a wide variety of items on the board, and-
“Is that a diamond?” You ask, incredulous.
“Haha yeah,” The farmer crosses his thick arms over his broad chest beside you. “You’d be surprised what you can find at the bottom of that old mine.”
You shake your head disbelievingly, you’d never felt particularly inclined to explore that old area, and truthfully you’re a little impressed by how quickly the farmer took to it. Sometimes you worry a little that he’ll get eaten by all the slimes in there, you’ve heard that Robin has dragged his unconscious body out a few times, but you guess he’s probably the most capable person in the town when it comes to combat.
“Pfft, wanna test out your pickaxe skills then, old man?” You cross your arms, suddenly conscious that you’re mirroring him. “I bet I could beat you at that strength tester.”
He raises an eyebrow and smiles doubtfully at you, and you were once again aware of how much taller he is. It probably shouldn’t have gotten your heart racing to see him smirking down at you.
He unstrapps his pickaxe from his back one handed with a practiced ease, the muscles in his upper arms- peeking out from under the short sleeves of his t-shirt- flex with the motion. You watch as he struts over to the fair attraction, sauntering theatrically to get a rise out of you. You roll your eyes when he looks back at you, but you can’t keep the fond smile off your face.
The lingering tourists and few locals pause as he raises his pickaxe over his head, waiting as he eyes the pedestal carefully. When he brings his arms down you nearly jump out of your skin. You weren’t aware someone could move so quickly and with such force. He eyes the results board and tisks when it came up one notch short of full strength.
“Timing must have been off,” He sighs to you, though his smile tells you that he is obviously still in good spirits. “Think you can do better?”
He holds the handle of the pick out towards you, and you take it from him. You’re unable to ignore the heat you feel coming off his rough fingers in the brief moment that they touch yours. You stand dumbly for a moment, blushing and staring down at the pick in your hands.
“Know how to use it?” He taunts you.
“Of course.” You bristle, flustered and blushing as you step up to the plate, shaken out of your reverie. “Maybe I could even teach you a thing or two- watch and learn.”
You pull the pick back over one shoulder and wind it up a bit, adopting a familiar baseball stance. You’re aware of the small crowd around you, of the local villagers watching in amusement as the two of you show off for the interested public. You may not have the bulky strength of the farmer, but you do have the dextrous speed, and you manage to bring the pick down at the perfect moment with a near-perfect amount of force. Looking to the scoreboard, you notice with pride that you seem to have equalled his score.
You turn to him with a wide, proud grin that you couldn’t keep off your face if you tried. You feel so much like a happy puppy that you can almost feel your imaginary tail wagging.
He matches your grin as he steps up to you and takes the pick back, his free hand digging into your hair to tousle it. You look up at him through the mess of hair in your eyes, your playfully bemused noise doing nothing to combat the grin that’s beginning to make your cheeks ache. You can hear him laughing a full, belly laugh and you’re right behind him. You feel your face flushing as he keeps the hand in your hair, roughly combing through it as he lets out sounds of joy that remind you of how sunlight feels.
“Attention everyone!” Lewis’ shout pulls you from the small halo of light that had become your whole world for a moment. “The grange displays have been judged, report to me for your placements!”
“That’s my cue.” The farmer smiles down at you and lets his hand fall from your hair. “I’ve got prizes to collect.” He winks cockily at you as he walks off and you can feel it in your heart and in your blood.
OK, you’ve definitely never felt this way about a guy before.
16th Fall - Year 1 - 7 Hearts - Evening
He’d promised to swing by tomorrow morning with your favourite breakfast, said he wanted to share his good fortune since he’d won the grange display. You remember how he looked when he’d traded in his tokens for the big prize- the stardrop- and eaten it right there in front of the stall. You’d never tried one before but you could see the energy, the pure vitality flowing through him, the muscles in his arms bulging hard when he flexed them. You’d wanted to hang off his arm like a monkey on a branch, and you’re sure he could have held up your weight easily.
That thought sends a shock through you and you imagine him picking you up in different ways. Bridal style in both arms, slung over one of his big shoulders like a claimed prize, pushed up against a wall with your legs around his waist, his hands on your ass and his mouth on your neck.
You reach a hand down to adjust yourself through your workout shorts and sit down on the side of your bed. Even your own touch is hard to resist and your hips push up into your palm. You fall back against your sheets with a thud, letting out a deep breath as you feel the last of your resolve melt away into the night.
There was no denying how you felt about the farmer now, no ignoring the way his smiles (he had a few different ones) made your heart warm when you saw them, the way his big, hot hands felt even during platonic touches, the way that self-assured wink of his made your cock fatten in your trousers every time.
You want to see him wink down at you like that while your legs were thrown over his shoulders.
You blush deeply at the thought. OK, you’d given in to having feelings for him but that was a lot more… explicit than you’d ever let yourself get. Still, it had gotten results. You reach down again and palm yourself through your thin shorts, wondering what kind of stuff the farmer would be into.
You hope he’d be a little dominant, could think of nothing better than to give him control, watch as he looms over you and takes what he wants. Would he want to fuck you? You wonder to yourself, bringing a hand back to grab roughly at the firm muscle of your ass. You bite your lip. The only experience you have with that kind of stuff is from porn, but the men getting fucked always seemed to enjoy themselves. Hell, who’re you kidding, the only experience you have with anything is from porn. You wonder if the farmer has more experience, if his few extra years and his time in the city has afforded him a better knowledge of how to satisfy his partners.
The thought makes you shiver, playing the role of the blushing virgin as he took your hand and promised to show you new heights that you’d never known possible.
The grind of your hand against your cock isn’t enough anymore and you bury your hand in your pants, grabbing yourself roughly and tugging until the familiar tightness began to form in your gut. You want him to pound you into the fucking mattress, you think with a stifled moan, can feel yourself aching to be filled in a way you’d never felt before. You gasp into the quiet night air, imagining yourself panting like a desperate bitch under his ministrations, and god it gets you close.
You screw your eyes shut and picture him over you, bending you up into strange shapes as he plows you mercilessly. In your minds eye, he kisses you deeply, surprisingly slow given the way his hips piston into yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, but the intensity behind it speaks to a burning, passionate love that he feels for you.
You finish in your hand with that image behind your eyelids and his name whispered on your lips. OK, you definitely can’t ignore your feelings for him now.