Work Text:
Shane liked to think he had some skills that, given the opportunity, he could turn into something worth quitting his job for.
He had a surprising knack for husbandry. Chickens especially. Marnie had noticed they followed him everywhere in the barn, so she forced him to take up feeding the animals for her. He personally wouldn’t call what she did force , per say- more like she offered to take some coins off his rent if he did some work on the side. The bags of feed weren’t that much heavier than the boxes at Joja. At first, he told both Marnie and himself that he was always too tired to feed the chickens. Despite that, he would never forget to do it.
He liked chickens. They weren’t brainless, as people thought; they had boundaries, moods. Shane couldn’t call them stupid, since he was the dumbass that spilled Joja Cola in their feed. They still ate it, which Marnie told him meant they implicitly trusted him. He liked to think that was true.
Everytime he looked at Jas, he remembered that someone trusted him once. He could call himself every negative adjective in the thesaurus… but not untrustworthy.
That was probably why the farmer had refused to leave him alone. Against his will, he exuded a certain aura. Just like the chickens, they immediately trusted him, running straight toward him and clucking away about their life. He’d flatly told them, numerous times, that he didn’t want their attention. He couldn’t even fathom why they wanted to give it to a bum like him, when Sam was willing to break his neck with a skateboard for it.
Just like with the chickens, though, Shane couldn’t help but accept the special treatment. It was easy when they brought him fancy beer they brewed on their farm or the home-cooked junk food that tasted like literal heaven. He didn’t like people, but he liked good food, and they seemed to understand that better than anyone in the town.
What he didn’t really get was why- he doubted that the farmer had “accidentally” made a pizza with peppers. He loved peppers, but he didn’t share that with anyone. The farmer would’ve needed to ask Marnie or actually notice what he was eating. Both options were a level of effort he didn’t feel deserving of. He should’ve been garbage to them. He was known by the other residents as the town drunk (unfair, he thought, to rob Pam of her much-deserved title), and he was certain that’s the initial impression the farmer got.
And yet, every Friday, the farmer sat with him. All night. Walking past Leah, Elliot, Abigail, Sam, Emily, and Sebastian, coming to a rest by his side in the corner. Sometimes they talked- asked him about his day, told him about their week- and sometimes they didn’t say anything at all. On Shane’s worse days, they just sat with him, letting him nurse a drink while he slurred out complaints and existential woes.
They didn’t look uncomfortable. There was no pity for him. They just looked… sad. They said, “I’m sorry”, like all his misfortunes were their fault, somehow. It made him realize that’s exactly how he was acting, when he treated everyone so harshly- like it was everyone else’s fault that he was the way he was. He knew he was his own fault, through and through.
So… He attempted to be less angry. Not nicer. Just… a bit softer. And mostly towards the farmer.
Truthfully, he’d lashed out so harshly because they intimidated him. They weren’t tall or wide, but the farmer was very pretty, in a way he’d never really seen before. Not even in movies. It felt like something in his head, because Marnie only mentioned they had a nice smile. For Shane, though, they were magnetic, lighting up a room the moment they walked in. His heart squeezed tightly whenever they smiled, their blue eyes sparkling under their dark lashes. And then the farmer had the nerve to be so easy-going, so friendly, able to be fantastical as the wizard but as down-to-earth as Shane.
Every bit of “game” he’d had as a teen meant nothing in front of them. He melted like the ice in his whiskey.
He didn’t tell them how he felt. Sure, they’d listened to him talk about his problems… but that was just it. That was exactly why he didn’t want to confess- he had too many problems. He didn’t feel like a complete person, especially in comparison to them. He didn’t want the farmer to say yes because they thought that would “fix him”. He wanted to fix himself, then offer them a bouquet like tradition.
Shane felt like it had to be traditional. He was at the age where he wanted to take himself seriously, despite all the mental hurdles he had to overcome. He already felt like his days were numbered. Before the farmer, he used to think about that in terms of when he’d jump off a cliff. Now, though… kind of the opposite.
He was intuitive enough to know that the farmer gave him attention they didn’t give the much younger, more attractive bachelors in the village. Never mind the guys- his competition included Haley, a girl so hot she called him Shawn and he didn’t correct her. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but he knew when “The One” was right in front of him, waiting for him to get better.
Just because he was waiting to say something didn’t mean he wasn’t yearning. It was a little embarrassing to be working, stacking boxes with what he thought was a clear head, only to realize he’d been replaying the joke the farmer told him over and over, letting their soft voice fill his mind. Even when they weren’t there, the farmer had a way of making things more enjoyable.
But Shane didn’t want to smile at work. There were cameras everywhere; if he smiled, even for one second-
“Shane!”
-His manager would appear.
Morris spent his entire shift watching Shane’s every move. The worm was miserable, like he was, but he’d decided to make that everyone else’s problem. Shane’s especially. Morris had access to a live camera feed at his desk; if Shane’s manager caught him expressing any sort of happiness, he lunged after it like a fox. Worse, Shane couldn’t complain to the corporate office, as he’d have to give that complaint directly to- you guessed it- Morris.
He feared losing his job if he did anything less by-the-book. That included telling Lewis or other people in town; if anyone found out, he knew there’d be retaliation on both sides. They treated him like a washed-up loser, but apparently he was their washed-up loser, now. Shane believed they needed a place like Joja Mart to survive- especially Pam, given her poor financial state.
If only they hated him. Then Shane could’ve knocked his teeth out, like he used to when he played gridball. The man was genuinely diabolical, speaking as if Shane wouldn’t see the red flags in his words. But he wasn’t that dense; he could tell when someone was seeking validation with “jokes”, and knew that saying was a precursor to doing. Morris hated people, loved business. Sometimes, Shane genuinely felt sorry for him. Whatever made him that way must have been awful.
…But then he points out how cute the new cashier is, and Shane wished he was in an R-rated game instead.
For that reason, he always gave Morris a reason to pay attention to him instead of Jodi when she was shopping. Not that he assumed Morris really would do anything criminal, but… the woman deserved to shop at their shitty store in peace.
Shane’s only solace was that the farmer never came to Joja Mart, so they never saw him so lowly. That grocery store was his hell, his punishment for failure. He didn’t want to share it with them.
“Shane,” Morris repeated, demanding his attention. “Look at me, please?”
Shane pulled his lips into a thin line, glaring at Morris as politely as he could. “Yessir?” He snipped, acknowledging his manager with a raise of his brow.
Morris smiled too sweetly, clasping his hands together with a swell of motion. “Well, first off- I couldn’t help but notice you were smiling, for once! I’m glad you’re finally embracing The Joja Way! It’s about time, huh?”
God, Shane could hear the trademark in his voice. “Nope,” He drawled. “I farted.”
Morris’ smile dropped like a stone, his expression flipping to pure annoyance. Shane fought the urge to smirk, rolling his jaw to get rid of the desire. At least he was still funny.
“Anyways… I’ve heard from some of our customers that you’re pretty close with that new farmer,” Morris stated, quickly changing the topic. “You should convince them to come here to get their seeds! Our prices are unmatched, and we have the finest quality products for an artisan as talented as they are.”
The mention of them made Shane freeze, the cold store growing colder.
Stop, Shane told himself, clenching his jaw to keep his mouth shut. Lashing out would just make things worse, make Morris realize the farmer was a soft spot for him. He’d pretended not to care for ages, and he might still be able to do that. Morris didn’t know how he felt; he couldn’t use that to hurt him.
He willed himself to calm down before he spoke again. “They’re my neighbor, so we walk the same way into town... Can’t tell them to stop, I guess,” he deadpanned, staying as neutral as possible. “They buy from Pierre. So what?”
“So WHAT?!” Morris snapped. “They own the largest farm in town!! That damned four-eyes must make a fortune off selling them seeds!!! You should be advertising our store outside of work, Shane!!”
Shane shrugged, unwilling to give him a satisfactory answer. Truthfully, the farmer would never buy Joja Seeds, and they proudly told Shane that. They could tell from a mile away that Joja seeds were low quality, even with the gold star on the pack- could smell the mold through the paper, allegedly. The only thing they liked from Joja was the soda, and that was because of their caffeine addiction. Not like he could tell that to Morris, though. After all, they were just neighbors.
His manager sneered, crossing his arms over his stomach. “Figures a bum like you wouldn’t know. They probably avoid the store because they can’t stand to see you.”
That literally made no sense, given they’d just established the farmer followed him everywhere. Shane chose to infer he meant “see you working” instead, rather than call him a fucking idiot like he wanted to.
“Probably,” he grunted. Don’t fight back, he thought. Don’t get angry. Just let him say what he wants, and let it pass.
“Typical, typical… I could have that cute little thing begging me for ‘special discounts’, but once again, I’m cockblocked by the losers of society. And that is what you are, by the way- you’re not even good enough to be a cashier. You unload the truck, put up the things, and leave. Maybe if you were a little friendlier to me and others, you’d be in a better place, but… ah, I guess someone has to be on the bottom. I’m glad it’s someone like you, with no purpose or drive in life.”
As he went on his little villain monologue, Shane grabbed a box, ripping off the tape with his bare hands. He had to hold something- otherwise, he’d start throwing punches.
Of course, half of Morris’ speech went one ear and out the other. He’d lost Shane at the very first sentence. “Little thing”? It felt scummy just repeating it in his mind. They were a grown adult, not some doll; a person compassionate enough to help him when he was at his lowest, to talk to him as if he was special. Morris could say whatever he wanted about Shane, but he couldn’t talk about the farmer like that.
Except… He could. And Morris would, because Shane would let him. Because as long as Shane got a blue paycheck, he had no choice but to let Morris control him. He could say whatever he wanted about the farmer, and Shane was too small, too cowardly, too pathetic to do anything about it.
He had nothing. He was nothing. He felt that looming despair as a gnawing in his gut, a buzzing in his head that got louder, and louder, and louder…
“-Unlike you, I’m not a coward. If the farmer won’t want to talk to me, I’ll just snag a photo of them at the Luau. I’m sure I can catch an unflattering angle to goad them into coming in. Though, now that I think about it, finding a bad angle might be harder than I thought. I heard their body is of the highest quality, if you know what I-”
“Shane?”
Shane blinked. He’d blacked out for a microsecond. He felt a bit unwell, suddenly; too hot, with a twisting in his gut like acid reflux.
The bones in Shane’s hands trembled, the muscles straining in his arms as they flexed. Slowly, he lowered the box he’d been holding, shocked to realize he’d lifted it over his head. He’d shifted his grip to hold it like a bludgeon, fully intending to swing at Morris with. He’d felt so awful, so disgusting… And then he heard that, and he just saw red.
Oh Yoba, he’d been ready to murder his boss. Had the farmer not called his name, he would have done it.
He had to get out of there.
The farmer, who was standing at the end of the aisle, glared at Morris. They heard everything, of course; from Morris calling them a cute little thing to the plotting of a literal crime. To say they were unhappy would be an understatement.
“You’re not allowed to go, remember?” they reminded him coldly. “You have to be a part of the community. Sleeping under your desk doesn’t count.”
Morris let out a small, awkward laugh. Beads of sweat appeared at his temples, his glasses fogging up as he cleared his throat. Shane would have died in his position; someone gorgeous like them, looking at him like a cockroach? He was impressed Morris didn’t faint.
Instead, the farmer’s presence completely glitched him. If there was a human equivalent to a blue screen, Morris fit it perfectly. His expression alternated between horrified and elated, caught between wanting to be a scumbag and wanting to be a shill.
“H-Hello, Farmer!! Welcome to Joja Mart! How can I help you today? Would you like to hear about some of our special sales?” Morris chirped almost robotically, intending to just play the entire situation off. That was a Choice, Shane could admit. A bold one, even.
They didn’t care. The farmer looked through him to Shane, as if he was invisible.
“It’s five o’clock,” they said, uncrossing their arms. “Go change and meet me outside.”
They didn’t say it unkindly. They had a knowing expression, having seen him lift the box. That was why they’d called his name- Morris had turned his back to him to address the farmer as they approached, and that sparked Shane’s sudden reaction. They’d shown up to surprise Shane at his job, but they quickly realized they had to save him from it.
Shane checked his watch. The farmer was right- 5:04 PM. Past time to go home.
Without a second of hesitation, Shane dropped the box. With a loud crash, the contents inside- blue, Joja-brand Pickles- spilled out in a cascade of foul-smelling juice and glass. That time, Shane didn’t care- not even if it got him fired.
In fact, he hoped it did.
He was tired. He was dying- every second, he was dying. He could feel it when he had back pain, when he got tired running. He was getting older, and when he finally left the world, he didn’t want it to be in a goddamn Joja uniform.
The farmer had given up everything to chase their dreams- why couldn’t he?
Morris squawked with disbelief, his jaw on the floor with the pickles. “I cannot believe you just did that!! I’m docking that from your pay-”
“Go fuck yourself, Morris.”
It’d been that easy, the whole time. Shane almost wanted to laugh.
Easy as it was, the dawning of his actions kept him from truly being happy. Even though he knew he was right, the feeling that he’d made a horrible mistake lingered in the back of his head. Honor and dignity didn’t buy food, after all. How was he going to take care of Jas, or Marnie? Or even himself?
As he hurried out of the store, he tried not to worry his stomach into knots. He’d been wrong about the people here- he understood that now. They wanted to help him, too, just like the farmer. If there was anything they could do, he knew they would do it. That was just the kind of place Pelican Town was.
The farmer was waiting outside for him, their gentle smile erasing all his worries. It was so comforting, just a look made his bones feel heavy with fondness.
“Are you okay?” they asked softly.
He nodded, flushing a bit in embarrassment. “I’m sorry you heard that… And… saw that. That’s definitely something I gotta bring up with the therapist…” He muttered, sighing wearily as he glanced back at Joja Mart. “I should’ve quit ages ago. I just feel bad for Annette… She’s all alone with him, now.”
“...Who?”
“Y’know, Ann- Oh. Right. That redheaded girl you passed by, stoned off her ass at the cashier line. Maybe I’m being old-fashioned, but I dunno. She’s way younger than us, so I’m just worried about her…”
They smiled wider, as if they heard something that pleased them. “It’s not like you to care that much about another person,” they pointed out- again, not unkindly, but with a knowing tone.
“I-I… Well… Maybe I’m getting soft in my old age,” he admitted. Weary as he felt then, he could only find the strength to be honest.
“...How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine- what? That is old, don’t give me that look!! Ow, hey!!”
“Come on, old man. I wanna show you something.”
The farmer dragged Shane by his arm, pulling him down the street. He wasn’t sure where they were going, at first; however, as they ascended the stairs to the more mountainous part of the valley, their path took them straight to the old community center.
Or, as Shane soon realized, the new community center; to his utter surprise, the entire building was completely renovated, seemingly done in one night. In fact, it looked better than ever. Everyone was gathering around to see it, their awed coos trailing from the manicured outside to the refurbished inside.
Shane was confused, but only for a moment. He remembered a detail about the farmer’s interactions with him- a small one that he’d barely noticed. Whenever they walked with him to work, they always split off at the bridge, heading towards the community center as he went to Joja Mart. Their bag always looked full to bursting, but with what, he never knew. Now, he did.
“You did this,” he said, his voice soft with awe. “How-?”
“It’s a good thing you quit,” the farmer stated, admiring their work with a satisfied smile. “Now, I can destroy Joja Mart without feeling bad about it.”
“...I’m sorry, what? ”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been trying to destroy them from day one,” they said, as if that was obvious. “They’re my competition. I’m the one who runs the valley. Me. Not that creep. Me .”
If that was supposed to be a joke, the farmer had the best poker face in history. It kind of wasn’t, now that he thought about it… They poured a lot of money into the town. If they got something new, it was probably because the farmer had paid for it. Everyone benefited from their farm and their gold. It was easy to overlook because they didn’t wave it in everyone’s face, but if there was anyone in the valley Shane should be working for, it should be them. They’d probably pay him twice what Morris did, and he’d actually do something he liked.
…He had not considered this until that point.
“H-Hey, um… Whenever you feel like it, could you come by Marnie’s? There’s this… Well, I was feeding the chickens, and… Ah, don’t worry about it right now. Have your moment, and I’ll explain later.”
–
The farmer really liked his blue chickens.
Shane thought he was dreaming. He had to be. He was dreaming, and he was going to wake up soon. He was going to wake up sweaty, tangled in his sheets, and go on with his day feeling like a pathetic freak.
A thorn- a single one that eluded Pierre’s knife- pricked his thumb as he squeezed the bouquet in his hands. He felt pain.
He wasn’t dreaming.
Shane could only clutch the bundle of flowers, worried what he’d do with them if he relaxed. Under the dark shadows of The Stardrop, the farmer lightly pressed him against the wall, their hands hooked into his jacket pockets as they tried to fit themselves between his stiff legs. He could easily slip away, of course, but he couldn’t move. They were actually pinning him, you see, with their… Mind powers. Which they had, definitely.
“I-I-I didn’t… I mean, I knew you liked me, but I… I thought I was going to…” he stammered, unable to finish a sentence. “...You’re a lot more aggressive than you seem.”
They laughed a bit, biting their lip as they dared to lay their body against his. “Please accept them… I like you, Shane. I know when someone’s beyond any redemption, and you’re nowhere near that,” they begged him. “In fact, I think you’re the best guy in town.”
“B-But I drink,” he blurted out. “A lot- I mean, not as much anymore, but… I’m sloppy. I’m grumpy. I smell. You do know there’s a hunk living on the beach, right?”
Just like with Morris, it was like Elliot didn’t even occur to them. Again, they spoke to him like it was all so obvious. “You created a new type of blue chicken, Shane. I don’t care if Elliot writes me a million poems, or if Sam backflips off his roof ripping a sick solo. My chickens are blue .”
He still didn’t comprehend it, but the farmer was happy to explain. “You understand me. You understand what I do. You think I can talk to Haley about egg sizes?”
“...Leah and Emily would love to talk to you about that-”
“-My friends, you mean? Get real. Leah’s just gotten out of a bad breakup, and if I even look at Emily too fondly, Clint raises the price of coal!”
They were arguing, but in ridiculous, hushed whispers. It dawned on Shane how inane it all was, but he couldn’t help it. He hated himself more than everyone else hated him. He thought he was going to be better, and then he’d asked them out. How could they ever want him right then, when he was still in the gutter?
They tilted their head up more, standing on their tiptoes until until their lips were centimeters from his. “I don’t care what people think. Not even you. You’re the best because I say so,” they whispered.
Well, when they put it that way, he thought. Ah, this was why he liked them so much- they made him feel so special.
“...It’s been a really long time since I’ve been with someone. I-I don’t even know if it still… w-works,” Shane squeaked out.
Their pretty blue eyes flashed, and they smirked. They closed the distance between them, pressing their lips against his in a warm, sweet kiss.
Nope, he thought, joyous panic rising in his chest. Still works.
He was quick to wrap his arms around their waist, dropping the bouquet as he fit them between his thighs. It was an immediate spark between them. Though he tried to take things slow, the farmer was quick to put their hands on him, slipping underneath his jacket. The warmth in his chest became a molten pit in his gut, and the sweet kiss soon became sloppy. The farmer gasped into his mouth, that sharp tongue of theirs soft as he tasted the strawberry wine on it. Shane would give up every drop of booze, if it meant he never forgot that taste. He cradled the back of their head, diving in for more after every heated breath.
Feeling bold, he let his other hand slide up their thigh, his grip growing firmer as he reached the curve of their ass. Satisfaction crept into his gut as he finally squeezed their supple flesh. They jolted at it, but it stuttered as they quickly decided they liked it, breathing out a moan into his mouth. It caused goosebumps to run along his arms, the haze behind his eyes making his throat dry.
“Are you serious? If this is some sick joke, now’s the chance for the gotcha,” Shane growled, swallowing thickly as he pulled them closer to his body. “I’m ready to fuck you against the wall.”
They giggled breathlessly, wiping the corner of their mouth with their thumb. “If you don’t mind walking a bit, you can do it on something a little softer.”
–
It felt real, so it was real. Maybe Yoba was real, too; by that point, anything was possible.
The farmer’s bed was big enough for both of them. Between the blue, pinstripe sheets and the painted blue paneling, Shane began to see how he’d stand out so much to the farmer. Why it impressed them so much that he turned chickens blue.
Blue was their favorite color.
He wanted to take things slow. He refused to give in to his lazier tendencies, refused to just fuck them and pass out like some loser. He wanted to prove that they were right about him, and make them feel just as special as they made him feel.
He’d lost his jacket at the door, and his belt before they hit the bed. As he buried his mouth into the hollow of their neck, they worked (ineffectively) on the zipper of his jeans, their hands occasionally squeezing him through the fabric. The farmer was surprisingly receptive, turning amusedly docile once Shane started being more assertive. He had a feeling that was purposeful; they were encouraging him to be more confident without explicitly doing so, rewarding him by making him feel like a God for just a second.
That shouldn’t make his dick twitch, but it did. They were willingly doing this; willingly letting him slobber all over them, leaving marks on every inch of exposed skin. His body didn’t gross them out- they reached for it with fiery eyes, their sly grin telling him everything. They knew how much he wanted him, and they happily felt the same.
It was a miracle he was able to even think straight. His hands shook as his thumbs hooked into their shorts, peeling them off as he let out a short breath. The more bare skin he exposed, the more his mouth watered in anticipation of tasting it.
He let out an audible moan as they dragged their nails lightly up his sides, sending tingles racing through his entire body. He took that as a sign to move faster, and he eagerly obeyed.
He grabbed their ass with sweaty hands, kneading the soft flesh as their breath hitched in his ear. Aside from the pounding of his heart, it was all he could hear. Morris was right about one thing- the farmer’s body was incredible, worth memorizing every detail. Aiming to do just that, he pulled them back into a heated kiss, his hand sliding up their ribs to push their shirt to their collarbone. They didn’t wear anything underneath, so as he slid their shirt off, his thumbs brushed over their hardening nipples. It almost shocked him, to feel the little buds- like what they’d been doing hadn’t seemed real until he touched something that intimate. Of course, that surprise melted into delight as he pulled away. When he saw their dilated pupils, their lips parted with anticipation, and their smile tremble with arousal, he just wanted to touch them more, do more…
He shifted his legs, all but forcing them to wrap their legs around him and let him settle between them. As he subtly grinded the hard bulge in his jeans against their thin underwear, he took one of their nipples between his lips. The thumb of his free hand, meanwhile, settled over the other, lightly rubbing circles into the sensitive flesh.
A pleasured hum left the farmer’s lips as their arms fell limp, moving out of the way to give Shane as much access to their body as possible. To say his touch was “romantic” wouldn’t really be accurate, because that implied a certain level of dignity Shane simply didn’t have. When he licked a wet trail across their swollen breast, it was purely carnal, but still utterly desperate- as if he loved them truly, but if he didn’t fuck them until they broke, he’d never get to touch them again. In their case, that’s what they’d been hoping for. Being a romantic lover was overrated, in their opinion. They already knew he loved them… but how badly did he want them?
When Shane was done with one nipple, he swapped to the other, giving it the same treatment. By then, he could tell they’d gotten comfortable; therefore, he decided to be just a little rougher, pinching as his teeth dragged across the sensitive peak. He couldn’t help but smirk a bit as their hips bucked, only for them to stutter as the move dragged their crotch over the hardness against it.
Shane could feel their heart racing in their chest, growing faster as the air around them heated up. They were quiet, though; not silent, but they only let out the barest huffs and shudders. They were clearly enjoying the attention, if the pleasured look on their pretty face was enough. But it seemed they were trying not to be loud.
Which made him think they were loud.
And. Well. That just sounded like a fun challenge.
“You alright?” Shawn purred, his tone mildly playful. He knew they were, but it was a habit of his to check. It was nice to hear them say “yes”. He kissed their sternum as they nodded quickly, looking down at him with nothing but desire in those big, blue eyes.
The silent answer only egged him on. “Just a little nod? I must not be working hard enough,” he teased, grinding his erection against them once more. “Can I keep going, at least?”
“Fuck, yes,” they gasped out.
Shane’s smirk faltered, his heart and his stomach squeezing tight. He unbuttoned his jeans, then, letting their hips go just long enough to shimmy his pants down his legs. He’d take them off properly in a moment; he didn’t want to go too far from his spot. Not that he had to worry, as they were far more patient than he was.
He pulled their underwear off as he moved down their body, stopping to pay extra, loving attention to their soft belly- particularly, the space under their navel, where the skin seemed to jolt with every light touch. He hooked their leg over his shoulder, holding their thigh firmly as they sat up with surprise. He did get distracted, for a moment- he couldn’t help but turn his face into their soft flesh, his stubbly cheek rubbing the inside of their thigh.
The farmer seemed to know what he was going to do already, so they didn’t stop him; in fact, they looked enraptured, wiggling a bit to get comfortable. They were aching to be touched, by then. They had expectations about how the night would go, but Shane was continuing to surprise them.
Shane took a moment to steady his breath, his dark eyes daring to settle on their sex. Again, his mouth watered, and he felt disgusting for it; however, he didn’t let it stop him. He swallowed them with a low moan, his bangs falling out of place as he dipped his head. Their flesh was hot under his tongue, and just as sweet as the rest of them. He closed his eyes, catching one glimpse of their delighted expression from behind his dark hair.
“Shane,” they gasped, half in amazement, half in adoration. Their legs twitched with the urge to wrap around his head, and they knew he could feel the muscle flex on his shoulder. They wanted to watch him, but he was intensely focused on pleasuring them. He swallowed them again, his nose buried in the trimmed patch of hair above their sex. His tongue rolled over them, teasing sensitive nerves until they completely melted into the bed.
From their perspective, they couldn’t imagine how anyone couldn’t see how handsome Shane was. The way his dark brows furrowed, his long lashes over his cheeks, the way his tired voice sounded as he swallowed headily…
They ran their hand through his hair, and he let them guide him, bobbing his head with every pull at his scalp. Shane liked that more than he thought he would; he moaned deeply into their flesh, gripping his erection through his boxers as heat settled behind his eyes. He felt himself getting a bit light-headed, but it didn’t stop him. Breathing was overrated.
He’d never felt like this before. He’d always been bored giving head, needing to be coaxed back to hardness after he was done. Then again, his other partners also didn’t reach for him so desperately, didn’t push themselves on his tongue like they couldn’t get enough. He blamed himself for that; he picked pretty people, not people that were good lovers.
He was lucky. They were both.
“Sh-Shane, please, sl-slow down…” They mewled, their heel digging into his back. Their core was in knots, a tingling pleasure building fast and chaotically inside them. Shane was just as sloppy as he said, but they didn’t think he meant it like this. The noises alone made their eyes roll into their skull, their skin dripping with arousal.
And the fact that Shane listened to them- slowed down to an almost leisurely pace, his breath wet as he panted hotly against their flesh. He opened his tired, dark eyes, watching them for signs of discomfort. Their heart clenched tightly, emotion swelling and mixing with the heavy lust in their stomach. Slowing down didn’t help; if anything, it tightened the knots inside them.
Shane took the slower pace as a chance to push two digits into them, soothing any sting with open mouth kisses. He stretched them out carefully, slipping deeper only when their muscles allowed it. He curled his digits until he felt their walls clench tight around him; once he found the bundle of nerves, he resumed his more feverish attention, lathing his tongue over their sex as he pumped his digits in and out, tapping over the spot inside. Though he was so, so gentle, he was relentless , not giving them a moment to process anything other than the waves of pleasure he created. It was borderline overwhelming.
But they didn’t want him to stop. They didn’t want it to ever stop.
Shane pulled away just as he felt their body tense, a gorgeously loud moan leaving their soft lips. He felt something hot and sweet flood his mouth, coating his tongue with sticky sweet fluid. His entire being swelled with pride, watching them come apart. He did that- he made them feel that good.
He swallowed, the sound almost as loud as their cry of release. That was followed by more lilting whimpers from the farmer, their toes curling. He found that a bit cute- did they expect him to spit it out? That might’ve required him to get up.
Shane hummed dreamily, resting his cheek against the inside of their thigh. “You want me to stop?” he asked, voice rough. He didn’t mind taking care of himself, if they were tired; it was his fault, after all.
“No,” they croaked out, blinking to shake themselves from their daze. “‘Mm ready. I-I want you inside me… R-Right now.”
They stole Shane’s breath, and suddenly, he was fighting to get his jeans completely off. He’d been half-wearing them for way too long. His next breath was with relief as his underwear went with his pants, freeing his rigid length from his boxers. He was leaking already, twitching as it sat heavily against his stomach. And while he felt a twinge of self consciousness doing so, he pushed through it, pulling off his shirt and getting completely naked in front of the farmer.
“...Oh,” They said, cocking their head to the side. He was ready for them to say something mean- a comment about his weight, maybe- but he didn’t have to worry.
“You’re really big. Now I know I’m right about you.”
Shane blinked, then huffed out a laugh, quickly returning to his place on top of them.
They were so weird. He might be in love with them.
In an attempt to be a gentleman, he had a condom with him for moments like these; however, at the sight of the “J” over the packaging, the farmer all but smacked it out of his hands.
“I would rather you do it raw than put that inside me,” they deadpanned, which gagged him once more. It truly was ironic that they hated Joja so much, given how much they loved the color blue.
“Less risk, probably,” he agreed sarcastically. “You sure, though…?”
The look they gave him- that expectant, knowing look- made his cock twitch, leaking precum onto their stomach. Again, he felt his heart suddenly jolt, racing a mile a minute as he gulped audibly.
“Okay…” he managed, lining himself up with a shaking hand. “Whatever the fuck you want, babe…”
Shane entered them carefully, despite the farmer’s squirming attempts to push him balls deep. They were tight, which, for him, felt like complete and total bliss. For them, however, it could quickly become painful if he started smashing their bits together. Again, he wanted to do things correctly; he wanted both of them to savor this.
And oh, was he. Their muscles clenched and fluttered wildly around Shane’s cock, squeezing him as they loosened up. With every slow rock of his hips, he could push deeper, their heat gripping him like a vice.
He’d coaxed them out of hiding their voice, so he was treated to their beautiful, unfiltered moans as he moved. The air was full of them, heating it with their arousal until he felt sweat drip down his back. He listened to them with rapt attention, his own voice caught his throat. The pitch of their moans lowered the more of his length they took, which sent a thrill down his spine; for how big he looked to them, he must have felt even bigger. At that moment, he didn’t care. His eyes were locked on their pleasured expression, his jaw clenched from how badly he wanted to pound them into the mattress.
He kissed their temple as he bottomed out, nudging that same bundle of nerves against their core. They spasmed around his length as he did, their mouth dropping open as one of their legs wrapped around his waist. They still tried to coax him to move with impatient rolls of their hips, but with his body pressing theirs into the mattress, they couldn’t squirm too much.
“Yeah?” he purred into their ear, amazed he was keeping his cool. “I got you, babe. I know what you want… Just relax.”
He brought their hand to his lips, kissing it adoringly. Then, slowly but firmly, he pinned it to the bed, his thumb rubbing over their quickening pulse as his other hand held their waist. He leaned back, then, enough force in his thrusts to settle their impatient squirming.
The farmer moaned with every breath, the sounds bleeding together as he found a rhythm they both liked. Some of their cries sounded like his name, while others sounded like awed curses. Shane himself couldn’t help but let out broken shudders, their tight walls around his cock sending sparks throughout his body.
Every instinct he owned screamed at him to go absolutely wild. That close, he could feel their heartbeat through their chest- could hear it as he bowed his head to suck marks into their chest. They were begging for him to, practically demanding it with every ounce of their being. Eventually, he gave in to that, forgoing his hold on their wrist to embrace them fully. Shane cursed under his breath, his hips stuttering a bit as he sped up. He started to pound into them, pulling out halfway before slamming his cock back into their core. He could feel their body flutter around him as he did, and it only encouraged him to go faster.
They warbled out a desperate moan at the shift, eyes widening slightly as his hips slapped solidly against theirs. Their arms wrapped around his shoulders, fidgeting with the hair on the back of his neck as they pulled his face to theirs. The heat between them- metaphorical and literal- caused Shane’s head to grow cloudy, the kiss they shared messy as he overpowered it.
“Fuck,” he growled into their mouth, punctuating it with another, solid thrust. He lifted their hips with the force, the roll of their eyes synchronized with the ripple of pleasure that coursed through them.
“You’re incredible… You feel incredible…”
The impulse invaded his head like a headache, starting dull, then reverberating through his skull. Before he could stop himself, he pulled out and flipped them onto their stomach. The farmer whined about it until Shane slammed his cock into them, the new angle making them squeak like a mouse. They had no complaints- not when he leaned over them, slowing down to an almost cruel grind. He was still close, hiding his pleasured grin behind their ear.
“Is this… p-part of that plan of yours?” He teased, aware of the building pressure inside him. “You destroy Joja Mart so I’d quit my job…n’ fuck you all day…?”
His words slurred together as he felt them squeeze his cock, the heat around him almost mind-numbing. He thought about that for a moment- about waking up to them every morning, making them breakfast, and then making them cum- and let out a rumbling groan. His movements grew more feverish as he yanked their hips closer, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of their ass.
“I’d fucking love that,” he gasped out, his voice a low whine. “Fuck, I want that so bad…”
He wasn’t going to last much longer; now, though, he was certain he couldn’t stop it. He did everything he could to bring the other to the same peak once again, their body jolting with every thrust of his hips.
“‘Mm close, babe,” Shane slurred, his eyelashes fluttering.
It was his turn, then, to get flipped. The farmer was a bit more impressive than him, considering the vulnerable angle he’d put them in. Shane forgot they knew how to fight, so they knew how to maneuver their body. Before he could react, they pushed him down onto their bed. While he was worried about being too rough, the farmer knew exactly what they could take- what it would take for them both.
Apparently, Shane had been far too gentle. Even when he thought he was being rough, that was loving by the farmer’s standards; with deep, passionate moans, the farmer bounced on his length, grinding on his cock until every thrust sounded wet and filthy.
“O-Oh, fuck -” Shane gasped.
They, too, looked utterly debauched, panting around a smile as they rode him like a horse. It was more than he’d been expecting, and more than he thought he could handle. But rather than flee from that, he just wanted more- wanted to be completely overwhelmed, completely starstruck. His mind went to things he hadn’t thought about since he was younger- collars and chains and blindfolds, sitting on his knees and begging for it. The part that sent him over was looking up, and being unable to think of anyone he’d rather beg for.
With a broken keen, Shane felt the coil within him spring loose. He threw his head back as he came, desperately holding on to their waist as they rode him through it. Suddenly, they were gentle as a lamb, lovingly riding his thick, pulsing length as they pleasured themselves.
He was never going to get the image of that out of his mind. He’d see it every time he thought about them, and even when he was trying to focus on something else.
Soon, they sighed blissfully as their own orgasm rippled through their body, their hazy blue eyes sliding closed. It radiated from their core, their own walls fluttering as they squeezed his half-hard cock. It was almost unbearable, almost too overstimulating, but Shane adored every second. He preferred “too much” over “not enough”, and would rather cry for release then beg them to come back.
The aftermath was a warm, intimate haze, the desire giving way to a sweet afterglow. He shivered heavily as the farmer ran their hands over his chest, soothing his nerves as he came down from his high. Their touch grounded him, bringing him back to earth while also teasing his overworked senses. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, the grip on their waist loosening as he stroked the small bruises he’d left.
“...Wow,” He said, feeling dumb for saying it. “You are… really aggressive.”
They giggled at that, the sound flustered and adorable and far too innocent. “Sorry… I-I got carried away… Can you blame me, though?” they responded with a playful tone, gracefully laying their upper body over his chest.
Their cheeky smile grew fond, their fingers drawing patterns on his chest. “How do you feel…?”
As if they needed to ask. Shane was in heaven. Right then, his only struggle was not to fall asleep and miss all their affection. He didn’t feel tired, per say- worn out, maybe, but even when they’d lifted their hips and let his cock slide out, he still felt like he could go again. In fact, he wanted to, whether he physically could or not; if he couldn’t get hard again, they could ride his face until either of them passed out.
“Good,” is what Shane said. They’d just started dating… probably best if he didn’t reveal his oral fixation right off the bat. “W-What about you, though? You sure that wasn’t too rough…?”
They snorted at that, glancing towards a chest in the corner of their room. “I’m tougher than I look. Don’t worry… You were really good. I liked you being on top… a lot. I was just a bit impatient, after waiting so long.”
Shane hummed, clearing his throat as arousal clawed its way back to his stomach. Their voice was low and purring from crying out, their words trembling as they put all their desire on the phrase, “a lot”. He could bet they did; he’d felt them melt the moment he exerted any power over them. They were tough as nails, but they pretended to be docile for their own gratification. No doubt, they ate up every possessive act he committed, their own ego stoked as he went absolutely feral.
He’d been mildly joking with himself about going again, but his libido was dead serious, waking him up with a small shock down his spine. He sat up when they said they were going to clean themselves up, almost reaching for them right then and there.
Letting them go had some benefits. As they got up to clean themselves off, they unknowingly gave him a full view of their used hole. He could see his seed oozing out of them and rolling down their thighs, their skin glistening with sweat and their combined fluids. Their rough fucking left them still gaping, a bit, their body just as hesitant to relax as his.
It was Pavlovian, at that point. The sight made Shane’s mouth water, his next breath a strained wheeze through his nose.
“H-Hey… Lemme help you,” He stammered dazedly, quickly getting up to follow them.
Marnie had probably already guessed where he was staying that night; he hoped that, given her own private relationship, she’d know better than to go looking for him.
–
“You look comfortable.”
Shane let out a lazy hum, digging his toes further into the sand as he stretched. He’d already eaten himself into a small coma, and was content to bake in the sun while he watched Jas play with Jodie’s kid. They were building a sandcastle; however, the tide kept washing it away. It had yet to occur to them to move farther inland, but Shane was rooting for them to figure it out.
Marnie took the beach chair next to him, her coconut drink resting in her lap. The chair belonged to the farmer, but they were busy stirring the ingredients of the soup- they’d caught a special kind of fish just for the occasion, and it smelled divine.
“Life’s good, Marnie,” Shane drawled, his smile utterly serene. “Life is good.”
She outright guffawed, knowing exactly how ironic it was for him to say that. “I can see that. Enjoying being a trophy boyfriend that much?”
“Husband,” he corrected slyly, pulling the pendant out from underneath his floral-print shirt. “It’s a little fast, yeah, but… trust me, we’re compatible.”
Whether she guessed what he meant or not, she smiled warmly at that, placing a fond hand on his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. People have mentioned how nice you’ve been to them… You look so happy, Shane.”
He smiled back, his eyebrows drawing together as he felt his heart clench. “I am happy,” He declared. He didn’t feel like that was a lie, anymore. It wasn’t without some dips in mood, but when he tried to think of things to worry about, he just saw them.
“I still don’t feel like I deserve it, but… My therapist says that’s normal for someone that’s experienced a dramatic shift in lifestyle,” he continued. “Babe’s let me take over caring for their chickens, so I don’t feel too useless… I do other favors, too, when they need it. Just guy stuff- checking their heating, fixing fences-”
Letting them sit on his face while the Tunnelers were on (and winning , too)...
“-Y’know. Husbandry stuff,” Shane added.
If the farmer heard him say that, they’d kick him for making such an awful pun. They’d still laugh, though, and that’s why he loved them.