Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A phone alarm blaring way too close to Cedar’s ear was the first thing he had to deal with on the third of Fall. He shot up before pausing, looking down at his bed as the unnecessary adrenaline coursed through his body. With a sigh, he reached and pressed his phone screen, dismissing the alarm. The man sat still, waiting for his heartbeat to slow, before picking up his phone and checking the time.

“Seven thirty, huh?” Cedar asked no-one in particular before looking at his cat as he entered the doorway with a meow. “You let me fall asleep with my phone as a pillow…” Cedar climbed off the bed, patted down his gray shirt before continuing his lecture. “You don’t even look concerned about my hearing. You’re only here because its time to eat.” Cedar put a hand on his hip like a parent waiting for a child’s reply. The black cat brushed against Cedar’s legs eagerly, looking up at the man briefly before continuing to headbutt or brush against him. “I’m taking that as a yes, but..” Bending down, dark green locks fall into the twenty-five year old’s face as he takes the cat into his arms. “It's alright, Lasagna.  Cans won’t open themselves.” Brushing one of the more annoying strands of shoulder length hair behind his ear, Cedar made his way to the kitchen.

Heading to one of the lower cabinets in the kitchen, the cat’s claws digging into his shoulder, Cedar carefully helped the animal climb to his destination. “Ow.. Yup.. Okay, take your time...” Once Lasagna was stable, Cedar bent down to open the cabinet. He retrieved a single can, gently swatted the cabinet closed, and walked to the right side of the fridge where the food and water bowls waited. As the man opened the lid, Lasagna clearly grew more interested and squirmed around more, unintentionally causing his claws to sink into his owner again. With a quiet hiss through clenched teeth, Cedar squatted down and emptied the can into the food bowl quickly, Lasagna leaping down as soon as he could, trying to eat even as Cedar tried to shake out the remaining contents of the can. “Man, you act like I don’t feed you.” After a few quick strokes of the cat’s back, Cedar stood, chucked the food can into the garbage, and made himself breakfast next.

An hour later, Cedar stood next to his chicken coop, clad in a pair of dark blue jeans that never seemed to look clean no matter how many washes they’ve been through, and a newer hoodie that was quickly following suit. He was in the middle of watching his hens enjoy some feed and fresh air, before he remembered that he had promised Gus two dozen eggs. Due today. The man whistled at the realization while he pulled his hair into a messy bun.

Can’t forget that.

“Alright, ladies. Let’s see what you’ve got for me.” Cedar ducked into the coop, grabbing the basket he leaves just inside the doorway for collecting eggs. He was quick with the work, having only five chickens so far. Before long, the man emerged, eyes immediately searching for his oldest brown hen. It only took a few seconds for his gaze to lock onto her. “Pinto,” Cedar paused as he walked past her, “Ms.Pinto Bean. The amount of eggs you left for me was almost concerning.” The hen stared for a long moment, before going back to pecking the ground.

—

Cedar’s hands dug into the pocket of his gray joggers, searching for his lighter. With the eggs collected, and a quick inspection of his pumpkin seeds completed amongst his other morning chores, Cedar felt like he was weightless.. He showered, dressed in his comfy fall usual of a simple hoodie, joggers, and boots, and delivered Gus his two dozen eggs for that famous omelet of his. That was all of his chores out of the way for the day, which he could assume would be surprising to some other farmers this time of year, but Cedar’s income didn’t rely heavily on crop sales. Although, mid and late Fall were the busiest times of the year for him. All the pumpkins that would be used in Fall favorite foods, activities and events were grown on his farm, and it had been this way for a few years now. The hens and his trees did most of the work. Cedar just had to show up and collect their offerings.


Lighter in hand, Cedar lit his cigarette. After returning the lighter to his front pocket, his hand reached to his back pocket to retrieve the letter he was lucky to notice as he left the farm.

Now let’s see what this guy hadda say…

It was a letter from Elliott that Cedar had only briefly skimmed before shoving it into his pocket, deciding to finish off his chores before potentially adding a new one.

Good Morning, Cedar

I hope things are well on the farm. I know you must be busy as you begin your usual Fall duties,  but I was wondering if you would be able to stop by my cabin sometime today at your earliest convenience. I’m finding myself a bit lost, and I do not know where else to turn. I always see you helping others, so you were the first person I thought of. Though I understand if this isn’t something you can help me with! I’m aware this is very short notice, and hope this isn’t an inconvenience for you. Even if you stop by just to decline, the brief break may be good for the old gears.

Kind regards, Elliott.

Cedar stared at the letter for a moment, green eyes narrowing as he quickly skimmed it again before flipping it over to see if there was anything else written on the back. It seemed unlikely, and he was right to think so.

There’s no actual favor being asked in here… I guess I gotta show up to find out what he wants.

Cedar turned his wrist to check his watch. It was only one-thirty. Plenty of time to go see what Elliott needed help with. Maybe he could even help him work out whatever it was and have time to go fishing.

Not a lot of work. Leads to money and possibly tonight's dinner. I don’t see any cons.

Elliott and Cedar’s friendship mostly revolved around the Stardrop Saloon. They were drinking buddies when they managed to bump into each other. They exchanged waves in town, and the occasional letter containing a new fish based recipe for Cedar to try.. Rarely, Cedar would send a polaroid picture or two of whatever weird thing he had found in town or the mines that week. Even more rare was the event of either of the two going over to the other’s house, or setting up an actual date and time to hang out. Anything noteworthy was usually something the whole town attended anyway, and the two always met up and talked at said events.

With a shrug, Cedar folded the letter and put it back into his pocket, fixing the hem of his black hoodie afterwards. Suddenly, he remembered he was smoking a cigarette, and quickly removed it from his mouth to tap it a few times, the excess ash falling to the ground. Cedar brushed off the small amount that had fallen onto his hoodie while he was distracted, before making his way to the beach.

—

Cedar was in the middle of knocking when Elliott’s cabin door flung open, hand still hovering in the air as the two stood in brief silence.

“Cedar! You came!” Elliott exclaimed, eyes bright as if Cedar was the first person he’d seen in days. As Cedar lowered his arm, Elliott gestured for him to come into the cabin. Cedar smiled politely. “Yeah, today was pretty easy. Schedule is clear for the rest of the day, so it was no problem.” As the green haired man walked past Elliott, he began to fully process what he actually looked like today.

This man seemed to be.. Somewhat of a mess compared to his usual self. His hair was down as usual, and although it didn’t look bad, it could probably use a quick brush through it. Elliott’s white button-up shirt was undone at the top two buttons, no tie in sight. The floor around his desk was littered with crumpled papers. A few had large X’s, or circles with an even bigger X over them. Cedar walked to the middle of the room, before turning on his heel to face Elliot. Hands in his hoodie pocket, he waited for the other to tell him what the plan was.

As Elliott closed the door, he turned quickly, clasping his hands together. “I’m thrilled that you’re here! I feel like I’ve been locked in here for days with no end in sight. So,” Elliott put his hands on his hips. “You’ll help me? I completely understand if something like this isn’t your thing, however. Like I said in my letter, I think some company would do me some good either way.”

There was an awkward silence as Cedar waited for Elliott to say what the thing he needed help with even was, and Elliott grew anxious as Cedar remained straight faced. Seeing this, Cedar decided to break the silence. “Ah, well. I am down to help, but-” Cedar raised a finger the moment Elliot appeared to glow with happiness, and the man quickly recoiled slightly, blinking at Cedar. “Elliott, I have no idea what you actually need help with. I could be selling my soul to you right now,” the man joked with a smirk as he continued, “But I have no idea, because you didn’t actually include what you want in your letter.”

Elliott clearly and silently went through a wave of emotions, the most prominent being confusion. “I.. I didn’t mention it in my letter?” He took said letter as Cedar held it out to him. Holding the piece of paper with both hands, the taller man’s eyes swiftly scanned the words he’d written on the page. Cedar waited patiently, keeping any comments to himself as it was clear Elliott was going through a stressful time.

“Ah.. I see.. I really didn’t mention anything specific.” Elliot lowered the paper to his side, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “My sincerest apologies, Cedar. I’ve been so all over the place, I’m almost not surprised that I’ve managed to do this.” Elliot’s hand left his face to push back his hair, catching in a few small knots toward the end.

“My problem is.. I’m having the toughest time with my book, you see.” As Elliott freed his fingers from his hair, he gestures to the desk covered in papers. “I asked Leah for ideas a long time ago. These days she’s really busy with a new art piece, so I don’t want to disturb her again... Willy has been out at sea, so I steeled myself and have been trying my hardest the past few days with as few distractions as possible, but nothing feels right. I'll believe I have a wonderful idea, work on it for a few weeks,  and then it feels like it has gone stale, or I realize I accidentally came up with the plot of a book I read in the past. I feel like I’m driving myself mad with nothing to show for it.”

Elliott took a breath before he walked over to his desk, setting the letter down near a slightly wilting rose. "I'm starting to neglect my appearance, I may not be sleeping properly…" He reached out a hand to delicately touch a red petal. “I’ve barely paid any attention to my flower here as well.”

“Yeah, you need to take a step back and collect yourself. You’re definitely trying too hard. Last I heard, you didn't have an actual deadline, right?” Cedar took a few steps closer to Elliott’s desk as the other man plopped down into his chair, looking somewhat defeated. Elliot sighed. “Well, technically no. Not from anyone but myself. I won’t get anywhere if I don’t impose my own deadlines, the book won’t write itself… I’ve mentioned it before, but I came here to be inspired, you know? Yet, somehow, I feel as though I am anything but..” Elliott groaned, briefly lowering his head, face blocked behind a curtain of auburn hair. “It must be the pressure of needing to follow Camellia Station with something of equal success, if not more.”

Cedar hummed in acknowledgement, rocking back and forth slightly as he thought. “Well… You look like you could use a break. Why don’t you go shower or something and I can look over whatever you have so far?”

Elliot sat still, only raising his head. “Do I.. give off the air that I haven’t showered?”

Cedar’s brows rose. “No, no, I didn’t mean like that-” The shorter man waving his hand was quickly interrupted. “You’re right, Cedar,” Elliott sighed as he pushed his hands to his knees, standing. “I feared I looked.. Less than ideal. I can feel it, too.” Taking a long look at his desk, Elliott took a few moments to look amongst the papers for the notes he wanted Cedar to see. The green haired farmer peeked from next to Elliott, watching as he made an attempt to separate some of the papers into what Cedar could only assume was the ‘garbage’ pile.

After double checking the ten papers in his hands, Elliott glanced over his shoulder at Cedar. “Oh, sorry.” Cedar backed up two feet, having been closer than he first thought to the other. Elliott waved a hand, “No, you were fine…”

“...”
“...”
“Is something wrong?”

“No! No, I just..” Elliott straightened, finally facing Cedar. “To be honest with you, I’m suddenly a bit nervous for you to read what I have so far. I believe it’s because I value your opinion, obviously, but it’s not every day I expose my incomplete works..” Another pause. Cedar waited quietly, though raised a brow. Elliott held out the papers. “... Here. These should have the gist.” Not exactly sure why he was being shy with his story ideas, Elliott decided to simply just hand them over so he could get his shower over with. He watched as Cedar’s eyes began to scan the first page. “Sorry, I know some of them are quite messy…” The writer cleared his throat, “Thank you for your help. I’m going to shower.”

Cedar gave Elliott a thumbs up and a nod as he went on his way. The green-haired man took a seat in Elliott’s chair, then glanced between his stack of papers and the various ones on the desk, before bringing his hands and papers to rest on the desk as well.

Wow, he’s right. Cedar skimmed through the top three pages. Some of this is really messy. You can clearly tell when he calmly sat down and started versus when he was just trying to get something down on the paper. I need to take this guy for some drinks or something…

Cedar got to work with reading Elliott’s notes. He did his best to make sense of the sudden cut off’s, previous sentences quickly turning into new and unrelated ideas. Some paragraphs had arrows drawn to show where the previous thoughts eventually continued. One or two even had a “Cont.Next Pg.” note, and Cedar would have to shuffle the papers to find out which one was originally ‘next’. Cedar didn’t want to mess with Elliott’s papers, but he felt a deep, deep need to at least put them in some kind of order. If not for himself, for Elliot’s sake. In small font he hoped Elliott wouldn’t mind, Cedar numbered the pages one through ten in the top right corner of each page. If Elliot was okay with that, maybe he could help him further organize or possibly re-write some of the papers.

Cedar had just finished writing the number ten on the last page as Elliott emerged from the bathroom. “Hey, I-” The younger male did a double-take, before continuing, “I made some really small notes on your papers, I numbered them at the top so they were in some kind of order instead of, uh..”

“Oh? You did? You were able to piece together what I’d written?” Elliott quickly joined Cedar at the desk, excited to see what he had done even though it was such a small gesture. Cedar handed the papers to Elliott, who scanned them and their corresponding numbers, briefly pausing to look at each page before smiling. “That’s perfect! I’ve been trying to get my papers in order for a while, but I always get distracted. I start adding to them or start new ones instead.”

Cedar stared at the man while he spoke, though it was clear it wasn’t due to his superb active listening skills. It was just the first time Cedar had seen the writer in anything other than a button down. Yet here he was, damp hair haphazardly cascading down over broad shoulders, presumably freshly ruffled by a towel.

“Cedar, did you hear me?”

The shorter male blinked before finally making eye contact with Elliott. “No, sorry, what?” He silently prayed Elliott didn’t think he was being creepy.

“Is it this?” The man tugged at his shirt. Form fitting, but not too tight. Just a regular white shirt. “I guess you’ve never seen me in more comfortable clothes. I don’t plan on going out today, so I thought this might be better to sit around in.” Elliott laughed lightly. “Sorry that I’ve managed to catch you off guard.”

“Yeah, sorry for staring. I know it’s not a big deal but… Yeah, I’ve just never seen you in a T-shirt before.” Cedar shrugged with a grin. “Feels weird, but I’ll get over it. What was your question, by the way?” Cedar shifted in the seat before setting his hands in his hoodie’s pockets.

Unlike Cedar, Elliott straightened up, sounding and looking quite sincere and serious. “I want your opinion on my ideas- And to know any ideas you may have as well!”

The farmer nodded, “Right, of course.” Elliott stood closer, arm outstretched to hand over the papers. Cedar took them, and laid them out in front of him at the desk. Elliott stood over the younger man, one hand on the back of the chair, the other placed on the edge of the desk.

“To be honest, I like them all, but..” Cedar moved the paper’s around here and there, pointing at particular sections with a pen as he spoke. “You have some spots with a lot of detail, like when you talk about this guy… Like some things are really detailed but some are vague… This whole section here leaves me wanting to know way more which is a good kind of vague, but ..” Cedar paused, flipping the pen upside down and tapping it, retracting the tip. “All of your ideas sound good!” His head tilted back to look up at Elliot, “But there’s not enough context for me to figure out what genre you’re going for, and if and what any of these people’s relationship is with one another. So I can’t place any of these characters in a context that will make them seem even more interesting.”

Elliott’s eyes met Cedar’s green, seeming a bit surprised at the commentary, before he looked to the papers, then suddenly pulled both his hands to his face. Cedar turned in the chair so he could have an easier look at the other man, brow raised as Elliott dragged his hands down his face just enough to reveal his eyes and furrowed brow. Cedar stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles as he waited for his friend’s response.

“I’m.. surprised you were able to catch on so quickly. That is exactly my problem. I have so many ideas for characters, and I want to use them all. But I have yet to figure out the actual plot…”

“It doesn’t seem to be a sequel to Camellia Station. So, are you moving out of the Romance-”

“You read Camellia Station?” Elliott’s eyes widened, interest clearly piqued as his hands were removed from his face, and clasped together in front of his chest. Cedar was caught off guard, trying to keep a straight face.

Oh shit. I never told him.

“Or are you just going off of what you remember about it from our past conversations?” Elliott inched closer as Cedar’s cheeks quickly turned pink from embarrassment, the younger of the two looking away.

“Uh, no. No, I did read it.. Actually.. It’s on my bookshelf…”

“On your bookshelf! I’m so happy to hear!” Elliott paused, taking in Cedar’s body language. “Is something wrong?.. Or, did you not like it?” The man quickly looked worried, but retracted as Cedar suddenly turned to face him again.

“No! No, I liked it! I, uh..”

I’d give anything for my face not to feel this hot right now.

“No one knows I read romance stuff is all…” As the words left his mouth, Cedar immediately regretted them. If he just agreed that he had read it, Elliott would believe he was simply supporting his friend’s work. But instead, he ratted out his own secret.

“... You enjoy romance novels?” Elliott asked innocently, and watched as his friend’s response was tossing his hood over his head, and pulling his hoodie strings taught, effectively causing Cedar’s face to disappear.

I would scream so loud in this house if only I could.

Cedar’s face grew hotter as Elliott suddenly erupted with laughter.  “Cedar! That’s all? You had me worried you only kept my book out of pity!” The shorter man groaned while Elliot waited a few seconds before attempting to get himself under control enough to keep talking. “It’s fine if you’re a fan of the romance genre, clearly I am! There’s nothing to be ashamed about!” Elliott tried to stifle his laughter. Although he didn’t think Cedar would be upset about him laughing, he couldn’t recall having seen Cedar act like this when they’ve talked about anything else over the years.

As Elliott’s laughter was finally dying down, Cedar was carefully and slowly opening the hood up and taking it off. As he peeled the hood back, he was careful to not somehow catch his earrings on it, and reached up to fix one as his other hand finished pulling back the hood. His messy bun was a bit messier now, but nothing that required immediate attention. As both hands checked their side’s respective earrings, Cedar looked at Elliott, a somewhat grumpy look as his face was still red.

“I’m not ashamed! It’s just, like.. My one secret, y’know? I guess.” The man crossed his arms, the floor suddenly an interesting thing to look at. “The book was good, though…” Eyes flickering between Elliott and the wood, Cedar added, “A healthy dose of twists and turns. I thought it was sweet how…”

Cedar made eye contact with an extremely giddy looking Elliott, before moving to retreat into his hoodie again. Elliott called out in protest, lunging forward. He was eventually able to hear more of Cedar's thoughts on his novel, after some protest.

Chapter Text

Cedar bit into an apple, freshly plucked from a nearby tree as he took a break from his daily farm routine. He received another letter this morning, and having grabbed it on his way out the door, finally decided it was a good time to read it. He leaned his back against the side of his chicken coop as his hens ate and raced around nearby. Retrieving the letter from his pocket, he did his best to quickly open it with his free hand. As it unfolded, Cedar swallowed, and began to read.

Dear Cedar,

My sincerest thanks again for your constructive criticism the other day, and for inviting me out to the Stardrop for my birthday. I look forward to seeing you, and should be arriving sometime around 5pm. Since your visit, I have found myself with renewed energy and a fresh perspective on my work. Your thoughts on Camellia Station have echoed in my mind, providing me with much needed motivation! It was definitely worth all the prodding, ha ha! I wouldn’t have guessed that under your tough, cool exterior that you were into such a genre… I’m joking, of course! You always manage to subvert expectations, and it’s what I quite like about you. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me!

Best regards, Elliott

“This guy,” Cedar groaned, craning his neck to lay the back of his head against the coop as the hand holding the letter fell to his side. “I wouldn’t have guessed that under your tough exterior you were into such a genre,” Cedar mocked in a higher pitched voice that sounded nothing like his friend.

At least he called me cool, I guess.

Cedar raised the letter, looking down to skim through it. After a few seconds, he slowly raised the apple back up to his lips.

Maybe I’ll reply to this one. Just for the fun of it.

As Cedar bit into the apple, the sound of two of his hens fighting over feed almost made him spit it out. “Hey! There’s more over there!”

—-

Pen and paper in hand, Cedar sat down at his kitchen table, cleaned up and dressed for the rest of his day. His current stationary had a gemstone border, each gem a different color from the next, the paper itself being a light purple. It definitely wasn’t something he could write anything official on, but it had caught the farmer’s eye when he was running low, so the simple answer was to buy it. It turned out to be one of his favorites.

Almost on cue, the local stray that had called Cedar’s house home for the past three years appeared almost out of thin air, jumping onto the table and walking onto the paper just as Cedar had laid it down.

“No, boy. Not now.” The cat was removed, and placed gently on the floor. As Cedar sat back up, the cat quickly jumped back on the table, eager to be the center of attention. Green eyes blinked before looking toward the cat’s food and water bowls, both half full. Facing the cat again, Cedar found him laying down on the stationary, splayed out and swatting at his pen. The cat received a few pats on the head before he was picked up, and Cedar brought him to the bedroom.

“Alright, look,” the black cat was gently tossed onto the bed, landing on all fours easily before turning to look at his owner. “You stay in here. Five minutes. Then I’ll pet you all you want, okay?” Cedar turned, and once outside of the doorway, closed the door almost all the way. Facing the kitchen, he sighed, closing his eyes as he pulled his long hair up to begin a bun. Pulling the black hair-tie from his wrist, he was halfway through the process when he opened his eyes, freezing up immediately. The cat was back on the table.

Lasagna soon found himself outside.

Alright, Cedar thought, turning on his heel after closing the front door and taking a few steps back to the table. He quickly restarted the process of tying his hair up, finishing quickly as the motions were second nature. He picked up the pen. It hovered above the paper momentarily as Cedar thought of what to write. Writing as neatly as possible, a little rusty with his script, the man began his letter.

Elliot,

I am summoning all the skills I learned in that one creative writing course I took in highschool to reply to your letter. Consider this a great honor, but there is truly no greater honor than helping a friend in their time of need, and watching the fruits of your labor blossom like the flowers of spring.

“Oh yeah, I’m a genius.” Smirking triumphantly, Cedar tapped the pen to his bottom lip a couple times before continuing.

By the time you receive this, your birthday will have passed. I hope you enjoyed the time we spent at the Stardrop Saloon, or whatever we may have done instead.

You are as humble as ever. Thank you for keeping my secret safe as can be in that heart of gold of yours. I look forward to it never being brought up again. Because that would just be embarrassing. It feels like you hold an unfair amount of steel ammunition against me. And I have a gun that shoots twigs. However, I am relieved and flattered that you find me to be ‘tough’ and ‘cool’, and I do not know what I would do if I fell from such a pedestal. Perhaps my ammunition is made from slightly tougher stuff than I previously realized? I guess only time will tell if I fall from grace, but ideally not.

Share my secret and I will never give you free pomegranates again, as my trust will have been shattered from a betrayal I could never hope to overcome, and my farm will go under as I do from emotional damage.

Sincerest apologies for anything you may force me to do in advance,
Your Friend, Cedar

Cedar clicked his pen and  dropped it to the table before holding up his letter to read it.

Some of my best work, really.

After eventually managing to find an envelope and addressing it to his friend, the letter was carefully folded and placed inside as Cedar walked out the front door. Lasagna took the opportunity to run back inside, having never left the front porch. Once the letter was in the mailbox, Cedar sighed, a hand on his hip as the wind attempted to blow his hair out of its tie. After a quick smoke break and glance at his watch, Cedar headed in for a nap. If he and Elliott stayed out late, he didn’t want to be tired halfway through.

—-

Hair down for the night, Cedar was first to arrive at the saloon, greeting others and speaking with Emily briefly before sitting at the table he knew Elliott preferred. He ordered Elliott's usual drink along with his own, and played a simple strategy game on his phone to pass the time. When Elliott walked in, he was greeted by the other regulars. Some wished him a happy birthday, followed by a second wave of speakers as others were reminded. The pair quickly caught up on the day's events, even though they had just seen each other that morning when Cedar brought a few pomegranates to Elliott’s cabin.

Elliott had more ideas for his novel that he wished to run by Cedar, eager to hear his opinion. The writer remained as vague as he could be, just getting the general, overall ideas across. "A buddy cop drama.. Or two villains who eventually change their ways to do good... I'm not sure, though I am certain that I want a story where two characters are working together throughout it toward.. something.. Maybe a hero and villain have to work together to achieve a common goal?"

Elliott began naming a few of the characters Cedar would remember reading about in his notes, wondering who may work best as main characters or antagonists. As the two conversed, they eventually found themselves in need of more drinks. Cedar insisted on paying for the first and second round, and any rounds after, having been the one to invite Elliott out in the first place. Elliott thanked the other but still protested, trying to give Emily his card to keep aside for the eventual total of their bill.

"Sorry, Elliott! Cedar already gave me his before you got here!" The girl chimed, placing the second round of full glasses on the table as Elliott glared at the man who simply smirked mischievously, eyes squinting from the grin that made Elliott hold back a few choice words. As Emily removed the two empty glasses and walked away, he replied. "You're as sneaky as ever," He pointed at the other man before continuing. "I'll let this slide, but I promise you, I am paying next time." 

"Suuure," Cedar raised his brows, a clearly sarcastic look on his face as he took hold of his second drink and brought it to his lips. 

The two went back and forth for a while, the conversation eventually turning to the most recent book Elliott was reading. Cedar googled it before doing a quick scan of his social media apps to make sure no one had tried to message him within the past few hours.  An interesting article title caught his eye before he clicked a link to learn more, planning to skim it briefly before hiding his phone away for the rest of the evening. Cedar read quickly, Elliott taking this time to stretch his arms above his head. It was quiet before a particularly peculiar ad came across Cedar's phone. "Oh wow. That's what I get for clicking these sketchy articles."

"Apparently that's not all you can get," Elliott replied under his breath after a sip from his glass. After a pause, the two erupted with laughter.

"I don't- I don't need anything like that!" Cedar managed, looking at Elliott while he tried to stifle his laughter. 

"Cedar, do you not remember our conversation about targeted marketing?" Elliott could barely finish his sentence before laughing uncontrollably as Cedar's head was on the table, his face in his hands as his shoulders shook, not making a sound. It didn’t take much to unravel the two.

Elliott tried his best to breathe enough to check on his friend. "Are- Are you crying!? You look like you're-" Cedar suddenly wheezed, a sign that he had been silently laughing the whole time. "I don't want my market to be targeted!" He blurted out without sitting up. Elliott slapped the table, head back as tears began to well in his eyes.

When the men finally started to calm down, Elliott sighed before taking a big gulp of his drink, chuckling lightly afterwards but keeping it to a much more reasonable level. That was before Cedar finally lifted his head, the two making eye contact for the first time in five whole minutes, which was a lot when you were drunk and found everything funny. Cedar reached for his glass, chugging half of it and setting it back down on the table before pausing. "..I'm in actual pain." For reasons no one else in the bar could guess, the two men at the table found the statement equally hilarious, and they were a mess once again.

Time passed and the jokes continued. Some PG13, some dirtier than others. The pair giggled like school girls until Emily arrived, setting down the two to-go orders the men had forgotten they had placed only a short time earlier. The woman politely told them that it was late, and time for them to head out. As she removed their fourth glass each, empty of course, she returned Cedar's debit card along with a receipt. 

"Don't look at it, it's mine," Cedar stated, swiping away the white piece of paper before Elliott could have a peek. Elliott rolled his eyes as Cedar signed the bar's copy of the receipt, "Yes, I knooow, birthday gifts and all that." He smiled afterward, and thanked Emily before she walked away. "Then let me do the tip tonight at least?"

Cedar stared at Elliott, freckled cheeks red from the evening's events. He spoke calmly, replying, "I thought I said I didn't want my market targeted," as he scribbled down "+$15" at the bottom of the bill. Cedar spun the pen between his fingers, tapping it's top to the table, the click punctuating his sentence. 

When Elliott seemed to simply stare in awe at first, cheeks conveniently already red, Cedar took it as a victory. The emerald eyed man grinned, the kind of look that was reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat. “Oh-,” Elliot began, eyes wide before narrowing, “Oh, you are just- terrible!” The writer brought his hand up to his mouth to cover his shocked though smiling face. Cedar laid the pen down as he stood, snickering to himself as he tried to remain somewhat quiet for the rest of the bar’s sake. Dark green hair was brushed behind his ear in a swift motion. 

"We should stop terrorizing the place and get out of here," Cedar stated, gesturing for Elliott to get up. 

"We? You're far worse than I am!" Elliot shot back as he stood, the two laughing again as Elliott swayed and had to sit back down. Their friendly argument of who was going to make sure who got home safely was taken outside.

"Look," Cedar pointed at Elliott, other hand bracing himself against the outer wall of the saloon, "I may not be able to stand up perfectly, but I am doing a much better job- leagues better than you right now-"

"No, no, you already paid for us! I can't make you walk home drunk by yourself," Elliott protested, back against the wall. His hand ran over his scalp, pushing his golden hair back just for it to fall into its previous place.

"Dude, you wouldn't have even made it out here if it wasn't for me!" Cedar bent over laughing, green hair falling from his shoulders and blocking Elliott's view of the man's face, although it didn't really matter. His eyes were closed from finding himself in the same position as Cedar. 

----

It took some time, several breaks, and a few close calls, but the duo managed to make it to Elliott's cabin sometime around twelve thirty in the morning.

Cedar struggled to get Elliott to sit on his bed. "Are you even trying to use your legs right now?.. Why are you even laughing?" Elliott tried harder to stand, replying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… It's that thing you said!" He finally sat on the bed, calming himself down for his friend’s sake as he wiped a tear from his eye. Cedar let go of Elliott's arm, swaying slightly before finding his balance. "Still? I said that when we were still on the bridge, and that was…" Pausing, he tried to recall the timeline of their journey back, but couldn't. "It's been a bit." 

"It could have been a single minute ago and you wouldn’t remember."

"Shhhhhh!" Cedar pushed against Elliott's shoulder. The man nudged back, and watched as Cedar very slowly and anticlimactically fell to the floor. The pair found themselves breathless again, for what felt like the hundredth time that night. It took thirty seconds before Elliott was able to speak.

“Are you aiming for an academy award in drama?”

“Shut up! I’m taking a smoke break.” Cedar was able to stand up on his own, and headed for the door. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow from all this b.s.”

“Wait, wait! I’ll join you outside,” Elliott called as he tested his luck with standing up straight as well. As Cedar made it to the door, he pulled it open, stepping out almost fully but keeping a foot in the doorway to keep the door open for Elliott. Cedar dug around in his pockets for his lighter and cigarettes. He watched as his friend carefully made his way across the room to join him, putting a hand on the door frame as soon as it was in reach.

“Woooow, what a big boy. Made it all the way here by yourself,” Cedar said with a straight face, eyes wide as his voice oozed with sarcasm as he looked at Elliott before taking a few steps out onto the sand and into the dim moonlight. Smiling to himself, green eyes were half lidded as Cedar brought his hand up, index finger and thumb holding his lighter while his other fingers pushed a section of hair behind his ear, fingers grazing the two gold earrings along its shell. His other hand pulled out his carton of cigs. Elliott chuckled lightly before groaning as he laid his side against the doorframe, effectively blocking entrance into his cabin.

“You’re right..” He stared at Cedar’s back for a few seconds, until his friend turned around to face him, the flame from his lighter trying to battle the cool autumn breeze. Cedar hummed in a questioning tone, glancing at Elliott with a brow raised. “About being sore tomorrow..” Elliott replied, before mumbling, “That, or I’m just old...”

The cigarette was perched delicately between Cedar’s lips, of which were curved upwards on one side due to Elliott’s comment about age. One hand held his lighter up to the tip of his cigarette while the other hand tried to shield where they met from the wind. Every few seconds, Cedar would reignite the flame, trying to tip the scales in the fight to have his cigarette. Elliott watched patiently, noticing the stark contrast between the fire, Cedar’s illuminated face, and the dark, cool colors of everything else. In his drunken state, he almost became lost in the scene, the nearly hypnotic sound of the waves crashing along the beach not helping. It gave him an idea. Elliott decided he’d write his thoughts down after his friend left.

Suddenly, Cedar’s cigarette was finally lit. He sighed, lowering both hands to his sides as he tucked his lighter away. Some of his hair took this chance to fall back into his face as his head was tilted down while he took a silent drag. Slowly facing the sky, eyes closed, Cedar exhaled, looking like the definition of relaxed. The moon lit up the smoke as it left his lungs, drifting away almost as fast as it appeared. Elliott couldn’t look away if he tried.

Chapter Text

Elliott groaned before he even opened his eyes, bringing his hand to rest on his face, covering his eyes. He could hear the faint crashing of the waves against the beach. It took him a few seconds to realize what it was. The writer rubbed at his eyes before finally opening them, and lazily dragged his arms to his sides, propping himself up on his elbows. His head hurt from his hangover, amongst a few other things. It all could have felt much worse though, so he wasn’t about to complain. The symptoms mostly just left him a bit uncomfortable.

As he looked around his cabin, he found himself alone. Whatever may or may not have transpired was a mystery from the sight alone, because the cabin looked the same as Elliott had left it before he went to the saloon.  Elliott tried to piece together how and when he had finally gotten into bed. His mind began flooding with images from the night prior. He had met Cedar at the bar. They drank, and were quite loud. Cedar almost managed to fall over the side of the bridge when Elliott tripped over himself, all of his weight suddenly leaned onto his smaller friend. They had to take a break after that.

Elliott smiled to himself, pushing his hair out of his face as he tried to remember what time they had actually arrived back at his home.

What else was there? ..

Cedar had said something that left Elliott in stitches all the way back to his cabin, though he couldn’t recall what it was. Cedar put their food down on the floor by the bed.

Elliott glanced over the side of his bed, no plastic bag or to-go boxes nearby, or seemingly anywhere out that Elliott could see. Cedar must have cleaned up, because Elliott was positive that he didn’t. Realizing he had no idea what the time was, the writer climbed out of bed. He stretched his arms above his head for a few seconds before lowering them, placing a hand on his bare shoulder before standing in silence as he continued to recall the prior evening’s events. Looking down, Elliott realized he never changed out of his pants, and had only undressed his top half before passing out.

His friend had helped him to sit on his bed. The writer probably could’ve managed it on his own if he didn’t feel so tired from all the laughing and liquor.

Elliott chuckled quietly to himself at how helpful Cedar tried to be, even though some things he said made everything sound like a hassle. Elliott went quiet as the next flashback to the night prior surfaced. Cedar was smoking outside. The sea and sky melted together, pitch black beside the stars and the white caps of the waves illuminated by the moon as they finally kissed the shore. It was like beyond the sand of the beach was the rest of the universe, but Elliott could only focus on Cedar illuminated by that small ember. Yet, somehow, even when the light went out, Elliott could only recall looking at the other man. All he could focus on was the image of his friend standing at the edge of the world, smoke pooling from his lips, moonlight and black shadows, the way the light fell on him in a way that just felt right , his hair seemingly black with the faintest green tints, parts hanging in his face and framing it-

Elliott’s thoughts ground to a halt as gracefully as a train crash.

—-

Elliott showered after piecing together the rest of the night. They had simply eaten, Cedar cleaned up, and walked himself home. There was a very brief moment where Elliott was concerned about how well his friend managed to get there, but it was swatted aside as the next thought was, “ No, he can manage himself fine .”

Now, the writer was sitting at his desk, dressed for the day but feeling no better than he did a half hour prior when he had found himself lost in the idea of that.. particular image. A letter from Cedar was folded open in front of him. Elliott admired the pictures of gemstones at the corners of the paper before reading.

Elliot,

I am summoning all the skills I learned in that one creative writing course I took in highschool to reply to your letter. Consider this a great honor, but there is truly no greater honor than helping a friend in their time of need, and watching the fruits of your labor blossom like the flowers of spring. By the time you receive this, your birthday will have passed. I hope you enjoyed the time we spent at the Stardrop Saloon, or whatever we may have done instead.

You are as humble as ever. Thank you for keeping my secret safe as can be in that heart of gold of yours. I look forward to it never being brought up again. Because that would just be embarrassing. It feels like you hold an unfair amount of steel ammunition against me. And I have a gun that shoots twigs. However, I am relieved and flattered that you find me to be ‘tough’ and ‘cool’, and I do not know what I would do if I fell from such a pedestal. Perhaps my ammunition is made from slightly tougher stuff than I previously realized? I guess only time will tell if I fall from grace, but ideally not.

Share my secret and I will never give you free pomegranates again, as my trust will have been shattered from a betrayal I could never hope to overcome, and my farm will go under as I do from emotional damage.

Sincerest apologies for anything you may force me to do in advance,

Your Friend, Cedar

Elliott found multiple parts of the letter humorous, smiling here and there as he read before clearing his throat as he finished. He reread the line about Cedar’s ‘ammunition being ‘made from slightly tougher stuff’ than he previously thought.

That may be true..

Elliott groaned, sitting back in his chair and rubbing his face with his palms before sliding his fingers through his hair.

But why now?!

The writer took a deep breath, straightened himself, and adjusted the collar of his shirt.

Maybe I’m reading too into this..? I was drunk and easily entertained, that must be it..

Elliott stared down at the letter, eyes returning to the ‘ammunition’ line again. He grabbed the letter, folded it quickly, and slipped it into his desk drawer.

I am definitely putting far too much thought into nothing. He didn’t write this letter to be flirty, this is just how he jokes. I know that. But it still isn’t helping!...

Elliott slumped forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Cedar smoking was the clearest memory in his mind, everything else was too vague or a bit fuzzy. .

Not wanting nor ready to battle with a possible crush forming on his friend for no apparent reason other than pleasing aesthetics, Elliott whipped out a piece of paper and a pen to reply to Cedar’s letter. The plan was to get it over with, pop it in the mail, and get on with the rest of his day. Not wanting to have to rewrite anything, Elliott began to think hard on how to start.

’Cedar’… ‘My Dear Friend, Cedar’- No. Not right now. ‘To the local farmer’ is definitely too impersonal, if not odd. I need to just let this flow, like usual.

Elliot took a breath, waited a few seconds, then leaned forward to begin his letter.

To my favorite drinking companion,

I can tell you received passing marks in your course, your parents must have been very proud. However, I can tell that this did not help humble -you.- Even so, I enjoyed our evening together. My sides still hurt! Thank you for making this year’s birthday quite memorable, I didn’t expect anything less!

Yes, I do find you to be quite tough and definitely one of the ‘cooler’ people I can name. That may have something to do with how you look like the opposite of what the average person may envision a farmer to be? I can count on one hand how many times I’ve actually seen you in dirty clothes when you bring your haul to Pierre’s!

Now, in the terms of ammunition and pedestals, I believe you to be quite safe when it comes to me. Your fall may be caused by yourself. That ego of yours, if anything! As for your ammunition against me, I think you are misguided. I wouldn’t mind if everyone knew my opinions about you. I still don’t think the end of the world would be brought about by anyone discovering your secret, but it is still -your- secret, so as promised, I will not share. And yes, I will not bring it up again, unless you do, of course.

However! I do think that you are sealing away an entire aspect of our friendship. Think of all the books we could be recommending to each other! Perhaps we can negotiate this the next time we see one another.

Best regards,
Elliott

P.S Please leave the pomegranates out of this.



—-

Three days later, on Tuesday, the ninth of Fall, Elliott received two letters back from Cedar. The men hadn’t crossed paths as much other than a quick run in at Pierre’s on Sunday morning. It rained all of Sunday and Monday, so Elliott spent most if not all of his time in his cabin or the library. He guessed that Cedar spent most of the last few days inside as well, or wandering around in the mines. As Elliott tore open the top of the envelope addressed from the man in question, he supposed he was about to find out.

Before Elliott removed the letter, he realized the two envelopes were numbered, and he had opened the one with the number two first. Assuming that this was the wrong course of action, he placed the envelope onto his desk, picked up the other one, and tore that one open as well. After removing the letter, he gently discarded the envelope into the nearby trash bin. Elliott unfolded the letter and held it out in front of himself, other hand resting on the edge of his desk as he stood.

To: Elliott

Over my dead body.

From: Cedar

The writer almost doubled over from an eruption of laughter at his friend’s exceptionally blunt reply. After a few seconds, Elliot opened the second letter, sitting down for this one.

Hello Elliott!

You’ve opened my second letter! Nice. Now allow me to elaborate. That first one was in response to the final section or your last letter to me. Incase you do not recall what you said, I will remind you. You said you would not bring up my secret again, and then proceeded to say I should share books relating to that secret with you. How vile.

As an act of kindness, I invite you to my VERY humble farm, in which I raise my EXTREMELY humble animals that like to frolic amongst the trees I humbly planted. My contributions to the local economy and environment aside, feel free to stop by on Wednesday, assuming this less than ideal weather subsides soon. (I’ve just been hiding in my room, reading or taking non-stop naps with Lasagna.) I’m about to be very busy prepping for the Fair, and I’m in the middle of growing even more pumpkins than I did last year, so my bones very well may be broken soon and this may be the last time you can hang out with me.

Don’t worry about arriving at any particular time, I will be able to spot you coming from a mile away from the top of my pedestal. (Assuming I can climb up there under the weight of my ego.) Thank you for thinking it is massive. Insert obligatory ‘that’s not the only thing that’s massive’ joke here.

Hope you weren’t too hung over, happy to hear you enjoyed your b-day.

See you soon, your extremely humble, tough, cool, attractive, economy saving, animal loving, 20% tip giving- (You get the gist)- Friend, Cedar.
P.S: Check envelope for a photo of some weird shit Gravy found. It’s totally haunted and I hate it.

Elliott grinned. He was really enjoying these letters. They never sent them back and forth like this before. Picking up the envelope, Elliott found the photo inside. A picture of Cedar’s brown chicken, Gravy, was standing in the rain next to a weird, old doll.

That is definitely haunted.

Elliott placed the letters and photograph inside one of his desk drawers, laying them beside the small, growing stack of letters he saved from Cedar. He began to pen his next reply.

Chapter Text

Elliott took his time getting ready Wednesday morning. Today was going to be the first time he would be spending actual time with Cedar since the fifth, the small run in at Pierre’s not being counted. This also meant it would be the first time Elliott would be spending time with Cedar after grappling with his emotions over a possibly budding crush on his friend. Elliott tried not to think about it too much. Although the ‘moonlight version’ of Cedar did occasionally pop up in his mind, the writer almost refused to try to elaborate on his feelings.

Elliott wasn’t given a specific time to show up to the farm, so he decided to wait until the time he knew Cedar was usually done with his daily chores before peeling himself away from his writing desk. It was cooler out again today, but not to the point that Elliott would need his jacket. The man decided to forgo a tie as well, finally stepping out of his cabin and making his way to Cedar’s in a white button down and gray vest with black pants.

As Elliott made his way down the gravel road that led to Cedar’s farm, he wondered what Cedar had planned for the two to do, if anything. He wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up just chatting for an hour or two before Elliott went home. As Elliott drew closer to Cedar’s home, was able to see the black pick-up truck parked along the side of the cabin as it began to poke out from behind the trees that lined his path. He next noticed Cedar and the position that he found him in. Cedar was sitting on the steps of the front deck of the farmhouse, hunched over, head resting in one hand while his other arm was over his knee, unsurprisingly caressing a half smoked cigarette between his fingers. He didn’t appear to have changed out of his work clothes yet.

Almost simultaneously, Cedar noticed Elliott as well, lifting his head slightly to turn and face the road. The man immediately smiled, and leaned to put out his cigarette in an ashtray he kept on the steps. As Cedar stood and Elliott drew closer, Elliott asked if Cedar was feeling okay.

Cedar stepped off the deck of the farmhouse, walking a few feet to stand with his friend as Elliott came to a stop beside him. “Hello to you, too. And, ahh, yes and no.” Cedar’s hands quickly retreated to the pockets of his loosely fitting beige overalls, the crotch area sewn a bit lower than more conventional overalls. Elliott immediately thought they were rather stylish even though the lower half was splashed with dirt. The rest of Cedar’s outfit consisted of a black crew neck long sleeve and black boots. Cedar’s hair was up in his seemingly signature messy bun.

“My work just ran a little late today,” Cedar nodded in the direction of a discarded shovel. “Decided today was the day to plant another apple tree. I would probably be getting out of the shower or making lunch right now if I didn’t hit a big rock halfway through.” Elliott’s eyes scanned from the shovel to the aforementioned tree as Cedar spoke. It wasn’t a sapling, it was far too big for that. It was roughly the size of a large branch, or ‘a teenager’ as Cedar would say when referencing where certain trees were in their growth.
Looking out past Cedar’s trees, Elliott’s eyes spotted a small sea of pumpkins across Cedar’s property. He wondered how many there were before commenting on the newly planted tree. “Wonderful! But, I must ask.. How many pumpkins are you growing right now? I don’t mean to disregard the work you just put in all morning, but.. I haven’t been here in awhile, so I’m a bit taken aback with the sight of your farm.”

Cedar chuckled before smiling slyly. “By the end of the season, I will have harvested a hundred.”

“A hundred!?” Elliott faced his friend, hair swishing dramatically at the sudden movement. “You’re going to harvest one hundred pumpkins by yourself?”

“Well,” Cedar leaned to the left slightly, “Last year I did about… sixty? Seventy?” He leaned to the right. “So I thought, Hey, what’s a few more?” Cedar stood straight again. “Not a big deal.” He shrugged.

Elliott wasn’t a farmer. Most if not all of his knowledge about the occupation came from Cedar and Cedar alone, other than a few things he had heard here and there from Marnie over the years. And that was usually in passing at the Stardrop Saloon.

Is it typical for a single farmer to harvest that many of such a large and heavy crop by themselves? He doesn’t seem too concerned. Maybe I’m overthinking things. He’d be the expert after all.. There’s farmers who handle much bigger fields of-

“What’s the face for?”

“Pardon?”

“You’ve got your thinking face on.” Cedar leaned forward toward Elliott in a questioning manner that vaguely resembled that of a stereotypical yakuza, hands still at his sides in his pockets. “You think I can’t handle myself or somethin’?”

Elliott quickly entered a mild panic. “No. No! That’s not it at all! I was just-” Elliott paused when Cedar started to laugh. The farmer straightened up, shifting most of his weight to his right leg.

“I know it sounds like a lot, but it’s alright. Remember, most of what I do is just picking up eggs and plucking fruit from trees. The pumpkins will be the hardest thing I do until next fall, when I decide to amp up production to.. I don’t know. Maybe five hundred.” Cedar shrugged as though such a number was the next logical step.
Elliott wore a clear face of shock before reeling himself in. “You must be joking.” Elliott started to smile at the joke, but Cedar’s unwavering, all too content air around him left Elliott questioning if this was an actual challenge his green eyed friend had accepted for himself. The two stared at each other for a long moment.

“You are joking, right?”

Cedar continued to smile smugly.

“Cedar?”

The man turned. Back to Elliott, Cedar raised a hand as a gesture to be followed as he walked toward the door to his home. “Let’s go inside.”
----
Elliott hadn’t been in Cedar’s home for quite some time, though it didn’t seem too different from when he had been there last. The kitchen was to the left, a table and chair set on the right before a TV, couch, and coffee table amongst other things made up the living room. On the other side of the living room was the doorway to Cedar’s bedroom, a place that Elliott had yet to ever be. The bathroom door was at the back end of the living room on the right side.

Above the couch, against the  dark wood planks of the farmhouse walls, was a large tapestry of multiple planets. A large pink planet and a smaller blue one were the most notable, a vast and endless galaxy in the background with purple and pink hues. Next to the couch was a medium sized sculpture, an abstract wood carving Cedar had purchased from Leah two years ago. It strongly resembled the curvy body of a woman as she reached out toward something. There was a small purple area rug under the coffee table.

On the same wall as Cedar’s door was a large pinboard. Tacked onto it were multiple photographs of all the odd or interesting things Cedar had found over the years in Stardew Valley. The most recent addition  to the board, and the one to immediately catch Elliott’s eye, was a picture of Cedar’s hen Gravy standing next to a weird doll. The picture strongly resembled the one Elliott received in the mail from Cedar, however, his other brown hen was in the background. Elliott’s quick deduction was that this meant the two pictures were taken in quick succession.

On the left wall of the kitchen was Cedar’s calender, and Elliott glanced at it as he stepped further into his friend's home. There was a white board next to it that seemed to have a few quick notes jotted onto it. Nothing Elliott could decipher without actually sitting down and trying.

After standing off to the side for a moment, Elliott moved to close the door. Cedar, standing in front of the coffee pot, softly spoke up as if he had eyes in the back of his head. “You can leave the door open.” Elliott retracted, and Cedar pressed a button to start brewing coffee. He had already prepped the machine earlier in the day in preparation for the writer’s arrival, so it only needed to be turned on. Cedar turned, leaned back against the counter, and folded his arms. He looked to his friend.

Elliott stood still by the large potted plant next to the doorway that was seemingly dividing the rest of the house from the kitchen. His hands began to awkwardly fidget behind his back under Cedar’s gaze.

Is he waiting for something?

“Did I forget something..?” Elliott asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Hm? No. But you can sit, you know.” Cedar unfolded an arm to gesture to the very much open set of chairs around the dining table. “You have six chairs to choose from, but you’re choosing to hover in the entryway.” Cedar folded his arms again with a smile, knowing that Elliott would probably make some excuse before finally sitting.

“Oh, well. I just didn’t know what was happening. You didn’t list any specific plans.. I’ll just sit.” Elliott made his way to the table, noticing an unopened letter on it as he did so, while Cedar laughed quietly to himself, glancing at the coffee pot as it slowly filled. Elliott felt a bit flustered. “What is it?” He sat after pulling out a chair at the corner of the table.

“Nothing,” Cedar turned slightly to look behind himself to see if he took two mugs out of the cabinet earlier when he had set up the coffee maker. He did. He faced Elliott again. “You’re always just way too polite when you enter my house.”

“It’s the right thing to do!” Elliott quipped, “I’m not here often. I don’t want to stroll in as if I own it.” Hearing Cedar snicker, Elliott smiled. “Did you have anything specific in mind for what you wanted us to do today?”

Cedar shook his head. “Coffee. Relax.” He looked to the side at nothing in particular, and for a brief moment, Elliott could see in his eyes that his friend was tired. “Not think about work… Ideally, I can shower first before we do anything.” Cedar looked back to Elliott, somehow masking any features of exhaustion easily again. “We can just play a board game or something? Or just mess around in the forest, I’m not picky. Unless you have something in mind.” Cedar stared at his friend intently. Elliott had known Cedar long enough that he knew that look meant Cedar would almost immediately agree to do whatever he said next. It was the look he gave everyone in Pelican Town when they asked for something, right before agreeing to be a mechanic, move boxes, play video games, or do something that would possibly take up hours of his day at no cost to the other party.

“A board game is fine,” Elliott waved, not wanting to suggest anything that may be too physically taxing on Cedar right before the season would become harder on him.

Cedar nodded in agreement, unfolding his arms and putting his hands on the counter edges, pushing himself off. “Is it cool if I disappear for fifteen minutes to shower?”

“Of course.”

Cedar went up to the fridge. He quickly pulled out milk, creamer- anything someone may want to put in their coffee before closing the fridge. The sugar was already out on the counter, and Cedar lined everything up next to the two mugs. “Alright, awesome. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a bit.”

As he made his way across the living room toward his bedroom, Cedar added, “Just don’t, like, spit in my food or something.” Elliott laughed, watching as Cedar opened his door, and grabbed a small pile of clothes he had ready before making his way to the bathroom, the door left ajar. “Also, feel free to take whatever you want out of the fridge.”

“I have no reason to do that to you, but thank you for the offer. The offer for food, I mean!” The two men shared a quick laugh before Cedar closed the bathroom door behind himself, leaving Elliott alone in the kitchen.

The writer sat quietly, initially just listening to the sound of coffee brewing before his eyes wandered back to the letter in front of him on the table. Not meaning to be nosy, he couldn’t help but flip it over to see who it was from.

It’s mine. He hasn’t had the chance to look at it yet, I see.

Elliott flipped the letter back over, nudging it to the middle of the table where he had found it. A second later, the coffee machine made a little ‘puff’ sound, going quiet as it had finished its job, the pot half full. Elliott was about to get up, but was interrupted by Cedar’s cat suddenly jumping onto his lap.

“Oh! Hello!” Elliott’s hands hovered in the air, raised from the shock of an animal suddenly appearing. “La- Lasagna, right?” The black cat headbutted the man’s chest before walking around in a circle on his thighs. Elliott’s right hand reached to pet the top of the cat’s head, the feline immediately leaning into the touch before brushing past his hand, walking in a circle, and headbutting into it. “Oh, you’re just a sweetheart..” Elliott spoke quietly, smiling. He tried to remember the story of how the cat received a name like lasagna. If he recalled correctly, that was the food that Cedar was eating when he finally sat down to think about a name for his newly acquired stray.

That, or lasagna was the first food the cat ate after Cedar accepted him into his home.. I think it was both.

As Elliott continued to pet the cat, hand now moving to scratch at the side of its neck, Lasagna practically melted, tucking his limbs under himself as he got comfortable; ‘loafing’, as Cedar had previously called it. Elliott didn’t know what the proper term was for how a cat sat when it hid its arms and legs under its body, or if there was one. He was just sure that ‘loafing’ wasn’t it. The black cat began purring loudly, pausing for a second at the sound of Cedar finally turning on the shower, before pressing further against Elliott’s hand.

Looks like I’m stuck here.

Accepting his fate, Elliott’s mind began to wander, easily drifting to thoughts related to Cedar given that he was currently in the man’s house. He thought about Cedar having planted a tree by himself, and the amount of pumpkins he would have to harvest. How he wakes up early every morning without fail, most likely including the day after Elliott’s birthday as well, even though there was no way his friend had gotten enough sleep that night.

He must have been exhausted.

Elliott thought about Cedar leaning against the counter a few minutes prior, tired but making little show of it. He rarely actually told anyone when he was too tired to do something, and if he did, Cedar would still squeeze it into his schedule at some point. Thinking on it a bit further, Elliott realized that his friend almost never asked for help himself. This wasn’t news, the writer always knew and viewed the farmer as an independent person, but he didn’t fully realize how independent Cedar actually was.

I can’t recall a time he ever directly asked for something more than just my company.. Even that is rare!

Elliott smiled to himself at the thought, happy that Cedar had taken the time to invite him over. Lasagna laid his head down, beginning to fall asleep. Elliott moved to slowly stroke the cat’s back, and couldn’t help but continue to worry about his friend.

I should help him with at least some of the pumpkins. I’ll definitely have to offer, though. Clearly he won’t ask. To think he chooses to do it by himself.

It wasn’t like Elliott didn’t think Cedar wasn’t physically fit enough to handle certain tasks on his own. I’ve seen him lift things that I’m sure I would have pulled at least one muscle over, Elliott thought, grinning to himself. He pictured Cedar from last fall, standing in front of Pierre’s. He was in the same overalls as today, the same kind of boots, too. The only difference was a faded, light green t-shirt instead of a long sleeve. It was a cold day, too.

He was definitely overheating.

Cedar’s hair was up. Elliott liked when it was up. Cedar had waved to him before the door to Pierre’s store opened, and Marnie’s voice spoke up. Elliott recalled Cedar’s head turned, face no longer visible. Just the curve of the man’s cheekbones and jawline. The tattoo on his right forearm, the outline of an open zippo lighter with a sunflower stemming from where the flame should be, clearly visible as he held up his cigarette. Elliott recalled thinking it was a bit out of character, and rude, that Cedar would put the cig in his mouth before entering the store, but he returned only a few seconds later. Marnie had stepped out first, and held the door open for Cedar as he carried a very large, very full crate of.. Something Elliott couldn’t remember. He just remembered being a little awe struck at the time. Cedar was only two inches shorter than Elliott at 5’9”, but he had a slimmer build, too. Slim but muscular. Toned. Stronger than he looked.

The faint sound of the shower being turned off in the distance pulled Elliott from his thoughts. When he realized he had another memory that mostly centered around him being distracted by the farmer’s looks, Elliott slowly turned red. His green eyes squinted slightly from the heat in his face.

A few minutes later, Cedar emerged from the bathroom. Hair wet and tied up, clean clothes on, the man looked like he felt better. He wore gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, the tattoo Elliott had just thought about was on clear display. Cedar made his way to the kitchen, noticing everything basically how he had left it. “What did you do while I was gone?”

Elliott’s eyes tore away from the tattoo and quickly traveled to meet Cedar’s. He gestured to the cat in his lap, sleeping soundly. “I’ve been trapped this whole time.”

The farmer practically giggled as he stopped at the counter, and Elliott couldn’t be more thankful he was out of view as his cheeks turned pink again. He brought a hand up to cover his mouth, eyes narrow, praying that he would return to normal and soon. His other hand paused, no longer stroking the cat’s back.

“You don’t gotta move. I’ll make it for you.”

Elliott welcomed this sentence as a new thing to focus on. “...Thank you! Light and sweet is fine… So, Cedar..” The farmer quietly waited for Elliott to continue as he assembled his friend's coffee. “I was thinking..” Elliott found it a bit difficult to make the transition from his previous thoughts to the present conversation, though it wasn’t for lack of trying.

“The floor is yours, Elliott,” Cedar joked as he walked over Elliott’s coffee, placing the steaming mug down in front of him. The two made brief eye contact before Cedar was back at the counter to put together his own drink.

“Thank you.. Yes, right. Sorry. I was thinking that you do quite a lot. I want to help you. Relieve some of your burdens.” Elliott made a vague gesture even though Cedar couldn’t see it.

“Relieve some of my burdens…” Cedar repeated to himself while pouring creamer into his mug, a tone that almost suggested the man had trouble processing the meaning of the sentence, or at least, how it applied to him. “I don’t feel particularly burdened right now, unless you’re referencing the fall harvest.”

“Exactly! I could help with that when the time comes. Not without your permission, of course, but.. I was thinking about how you rarely ask for help, but you’re always trying to lighten the load for others when you yourself are already exhausted.”

“Did I look that tired when you got here?” Cedar turned, brows raised as he was genuinely curious about Elliott’s answer. He sat down across from the writer.

“No, though you did look tired. I was thinking about you while you were in the shower. I remembered-” Elliott lips pursed together in a flat line, brows furrowing and face immediately hot as Cedar started snickering like a middle schooler when someone said the name of genitalia out loud. “Not like that! Get your mind out of the gutter!” Cedar only laughed more, and Elliott rested his elbows on the table, face in his hands. All the commotion woke up the cat. Lasagna jumped on the floor, stretched, then headed out the front door. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation..” Elliott groaned.

“You walked yourself into that one,” Cedar smirked, leaning back in his chair and holding his mug with both hands. “With the amount of dirty jokes we make when we’re drunk, you sure got embarrassed quickly. It’s just funny.”

Elliott raised his head and pointed at Cedar, cheeks clearly still red. “It’s different! It’s easier for me to say that stuff because I’m drunk! And, we’ve never joked about one of us being n- The point is-” Elliott sighed, both hands on the table in front of him, giving up. He was only making things worse. Cedar wasn’t even trying to hide the enjoyment he was receiving from Elliott’s suffering. “A sadist,” Elliott spoke under his breath.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Cedar replied calmly as he brought the coffee mug to his lips. Elliott’s mouth opened in a silent gasp and Cedar almost spit out the small sip of coffee he had managed to take. He quickly swallowed before laughing as Elliott called out, “The audacity!”

The two men shared a laugh for a moment, Cedar’s more mischievous and Elliott’s far more tame. After a few seconds, Cedar sat up in his chair, then leaned forward. Elbows on the table, mug between his hands, he cleared his throat. Elliott focused on the man completely.

“Alright, alright. Me being a total teenager aside. You really want to help me with things that badly?” Elliott nodded, the colors in his face slowly returning to normal. “You can go pick out a game from my room, if you’d like. My little blue speaker is in there, too. They’re both on my bookshelf as soon as you walk in.”

“..I can do that,” Elliott began to push his chair back, and slowly started to stand, “But you are aware I wish to help you on a larger scale?” He raised a brow. This was something the farmer could definitely accomplish on his own, not that Elliott minded the simple task at all. It was just not what he had in mind. Elliott wanted to actually help.

“I know what you mean,” Cedar waved. “You picking out the game means that my guest gets to do what he wants, and I don’t have to get up again. Also, you’ll finally traverse farther than the first ten square feet of my house.” Cedar smirked.

“Why does this still sound like a favor to me and not you?”

Chapter Text

Cedar shrugged. Elliott sighed and turned to head toward Cedar’s bedroom, the door already open as if it expected him. When Elliott was halfway across the living room, he glanced back toward Cedar. The green haired man grinned widely, and gave the writer a thumbs up. When Elliott turned to face the bedroom again, he exhaled a quick, heavy breath as a small and quiet laugh.

Meanwhile, as Elliott finally crossed the threshold to Cedar’s room, Cedar reached for the envelope on the table, finally having found time to open it.

My Dear Friend, Cedar

I humbly accept your invitation. It is a fantastic honor, and I will be sure to see you then.
My heart shatters to think that my friend would call my actions vile, and I do not know if I will ever be able to recover. Despite this turn of events, I do sincerely hope you do not break all of your bones. Perhaps I could be of some service during your harvest? Also, I am choosing to actively disregard your joke and its subject matter of ‘things’ that are ‘massive.’

The doll your chicken has found is definitely haunted, please dispose of it immediately and with proper caution.

Your friend, Elliott

—

Elliott could tell before even passing through the doorway that Cedar’s room held much more decor relating to his personality and interests than the rest of the house. Straight across from the doorway on the opposing dark wood wall was a large, heavily stylized poster of a popular sci-fi character.  Elliott couldn’t remember their name at the moment. There were too many movies in that series.

As he stepped in the doorway, he instinctively reached for where he guessed the lightswitch would be. The room wasn’t particularly dark at the moment, enough light peeked through the windows that Elliott would be able to navigate around almost completely fine. But if he was going to have to search for games and possibly read descriptions for them, he would appreciate some light.

Elliott quickly took in the sight of Cedar’s bed, the black bedding, and a couple banners on the wall. A sticker covered laptop by the pillows. The cat that apparently snuck back in at some point next to it, sleeping.

Feeling two switches next to each other, Elliott flicked the first one. The entire perimeter of the ceiling lit up red, and for a second, Elliott felt like he triggered an alarm at a bank and froze. But as the color gradually faded into orange, Elliott let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

So it's not that one.. The lights are a nice touch, though.

As orange began to fade to yellow, Elliott turned the light off. Trying the next switch, he was able to turn on the regular ceiling light. With the bookshelf being just to the left of the switch, it only took a step or two for Elliott to stand in front of it, not wanting to be too nosy with how the rest of Cedar’s room looked. He was being trusted to pick out a game, not investigate.

Alright, let's see.

Elliott stared at the top shelf of the tall bookcase that almost reached the ceiling. It matched the walls of the room. On the shelf was a figurine of a character from something, he assumed, that Elliott had never seen before. Next to it was a rather large, slanted book that, judging by its title, was some type of plant encyclopedia.

The next shelf down, eye level to Elliott, had more stuff on it. Mostly DVDs. Sets of movies pertaining to a popular series about Caribbean pirates, killing someone named Bill, and a particular spider themed superhero. There was a small stack of movies that laid on their sides in front of the others. Elliott recognized a few of them to be cult classics, so he assumed the two others that he couldn’t recall seeing fell into that category as well. Was Monty really a python or was that simply his name? Elliott thought that maybe he could ask Cedar about borrowing the movie or watching it with him sometime in the future so he could find out.

On top of the small stack of movies was a little, circular pin. It had three stripes running horizontally. One was pink, the center one was purple, and the bottom one was blue. The colors felt familiar, but Elliott couldn’t place why, so he continued his search for what he was actually sent in the room for.

Elliott bent down, immediately noticing the previously mentioned little blue speaker in front of a stack of books. He removed it from the shelf before pausing, spotting Camellia Station amongst what appeared to be a bunch of graphic novels. Elliott grinned upon the discovery, elated that his friend did indeed have a copy of his book. None of the titles or colorschemes of the graphic novels on the shelf appeared to be in the same genre as his book, and Elliott quietly and slightly pulled out two in succession to check. One was sci-fi related, which wasn’t too surprising at this point. The next one seemed to be a sort of coming-of-age story with a slight fantasy element. The writer didn’t want to be nosy, but for someone who exposed their own secret of enjoying romantic literature, there was very little proof in Cedar’s room so far.

The bottom shelf clearly held the games that Cedar had sent Elliott to sort through. Popular classics such as Scrabble and Monopoly were amongst some card games that Elliott couldn’t recognize.

There seems to be a lot in here that I don’t recognize, the man sighed to himself. Well, at least I am allowed to go through these.

He picked up a white box labeled Cards Against Humanity. He looked at the back for a description of the game, thinking he may have played it once a long time ago, and read the example cards. The fill-in-the-blank aspect of the game seemed like it could be fun. Elliott placed it off to the side on the floor before searching further. In a similar, smaller red box was another card game called Red Flags, and Elliott checked the back for a clue on what the game was about. It was similar to CAH, but revolved around the trials and tribulations of dating as its overall theme, whereas CAH seemed to be about a bit of everything.

This is an interesting one.

Next to where Elliott had pulled Red Flags off the shelf was a few smaller boxes with the same logo on it, but with different colors. He picked up the closest one. It was labeled, ‘DARK RED FLAGS. A filthy expansion pack to Red Flags.’

Elliott quickly put everything away, deciding on Scrabble.
–

Cedar was in the middle of writing the first sentence of his letter back to Elliott when the man finally emerged from his room. He kept his gaze on the paper, glancing between Elliott’s letter and his own as he wrote.

“Out of all the choices in my room, you better not be holding something like Scrabble,” Cedar stated calmly, seeming somewhat disinterested. Elliott froze as he reached the table, and was about to turn around, but Cedar interrupted him with a grin. “Nah, I’m just kidding, set it down.” He gestured with his pen, sneaking a glance at his friend.

Elliott sighed, and placed the game and speaker down as instructed. “You really like to keep me on my toes.”

“Yeah, it's more fun that way,” Cedar chimed in a matter-of-fact tone, looking back to his paper. He then tapped his pen to his lips.

Elliott sat across from Cedar, and began to unpack and set up the game. Realizing Cedar had opened his letter, he looked at the paper Cedar was writing on. It was the purple gemstone stationary he used in his replies.

“Are you writing your response to my letter?”

“Uh huh.”

“With me here?” Elliott raised a brow, sliding the little wooden stand for the letters in front of Cedar.

“Gotta do it while my thoughts are fresh, while the gears are turning. I might not be as funny later.” Cedar made a vague, waving gesture.

“I see, I see…” Elliott nodded with a smile, picking out one of the letters from the bag before nudging it toward Cedar so he could pick a tile as well. He got a ‘B’.

Cedar reached for the bag, dug around in it for a few seconds, and pulled out a tile. When he looked at it, he found he had a ‘Q’. “Looks like you go first.” The two put their letters back into the bag, and Elliott shook it around a little. Cedar looked back to his letter, holding it up with both hands.

Elliott,

I plan on using the doll to curse you. Do not respond to this letter, as it will be of no use. By the time you read this, it will be too late, and I will have already skipped town.

I’m kidding. It APPEARS you’ve passed my test, so I have decided to call off the doll.
(Do not ask what the test was. It’s a secret.)

See you after I break all my bones.
Thanks for playing Scrabble with me.

-Cedar

“Yeah, that’s all I got.” Cedar spoke to himself. He laid the paper down momentarily, garnering a hum of acknowledgement and confusion from Elliott. “Don’t peek,” Cedar replied, attempting to shield his letter from view. He had a lot of leftover space, so he quickly drew a large circle and made a big, winking smiling face with the tongue sticking out. He quickly folded the letter up when he was done. Elliott watched the process, and chuckled lightly.

“Do I get any hints about the context of that letter? You wrote it very fast.” Elliott raised a brow as he picked seven letter tiles at random from the bag, and placed them on the little letter rack.

“No, that ruins the suspense. You’re a writer, you should know that,” Cedar pointed as he stood, moving to put his and Elliott’s letters onto the counter, out of the way of the game.

“You’re right. My apologies for being nosy.” Elliott smiled, and took inventory of the letters he had to work with. His tiles were:  A, C , R, O, N, Y, S.

“Apology accepted.” Cedar sat down again. He took the letter bag and took out a few tiles, lined them up, and blindly reached around for the others until he had seven. His tiles were: G, Y, R, E, A, R, E.

Before starting the game, Cedar grabbed his speaker from the edge of the table. He turned it on, connecting it to his phone via bluetooth. He asked Elliott if he preferred certain music for the night. Elliott shook his head, eager to know what Cedar would like instead. The farmer took all of thirty seconds to find and pick a rather up-beat song that turned out to be the start of the playlist for the night. There turned out to be a lot of Alternative and R&B songs.

Starting the game, Elliott put down the word ACORNS, and tallied up his points. On Cedar’s turn, he was able to place the word GRAY.

The two didn't speak for a few minutes, enjoying the music as they slowly filled the board. When Elliott played the word PENSION for a three times word bonus, Cedar began a very long, very tense staring contest with him. The prolonged eye contact was brutal, and Elliott had to look away first. Cedar played the word TIPPING for a double word score on his next turn, and immediately felt better.
—-

Cedar and Elliott had both won two games each when they decided to call it quits for the night. Elliott was the first to suggest it, seeing that Cedar started to nod off. He had put up a good fight, but it was clear his body’s need for rest would come out on top. Cedar had cleaned up the game, and brought it into his room. It left Elliott with a brief amount of time to be alone with his thoughts as he cleaned up the snacks they had pulled out after the first game, and he decided he would raise a particular question on Cedar’s return.

Cedar made his way back, envelope in hand already addressed to Elliott. The writer watched the other make his way to the counter, and place the letter he wrote earlier into it. Elliott stood nearby, rolling a bag of chips closed.

“So, I know you think I’m vile for being curious, but..”

Cedar slowly looked at Elliott, clearly suspicious. The writer laughed. “No, please! Just one question! I promise,” Elliott waved.

“Okay, okay. What is it?” Cedar turned, placing the letter into his back pocket. He folded his arms after facing Elliott.

“You said you read romantic literature, and I didn’t mean to be nosy, but I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t have anything like that on your bookshelf, other than Camellia Station.” Elliott waited patiently for an answer, but slowly became confused, if not looking a bit scared, as Cedar began to smile, a smug look on his face.

“You think I would have that stuff out? Physical evidence?” Cedar stared at Elliott triumphantly. “That’s all on the computer.”

Elliott’s eyes widened slightly at the realization. He was the opposite, keeping physical copies of everything he read. He had almost completely forgotten that it was common for people to read online these days.

“So… That’s part of the reason you were okay with sending me to your room? You had nothing to hide..?” Elliott was almost impressed.

Cedar lightly tapped a finger to the side of his head. “Big brain.”

“Your foresight is impeccable, Cedar.” Elliott joked, shaking his head.

Cedar made a gesture for Elliott to step out first, and followed closely behind him. The writer stepped off the front deck, standing a few feet away. Cedar slipped past him to put his letter in the mailbox, and Elliott thought it was rather charming, in a way, that he insisted on sending it out when the recipient was right next to him. Cedar reset himself to the bottom step of the farmhouse deck.

Elliott looked up at the sky. It was dusk now. He didn’t realize how much time had passed between the games and joking around, but he was happy to spend time out of his cabin like this. Not stressing about his book for a bit, and in good company. When he smelled cigarette smoke, Elliott turned to look at Cedar. It was exciting to be in Cedar's house and allowed into his room. His friend was a rather private person. Anything he let slip through the cracks almost seemed planned. That, or you could see Cedar pause, almost running the numbers briefly before letting go of an appropriate amount of information. It was kind of admirable, Elliott thought, but he knew it must be tiring as well. Being more of an open book himself, Elliott thought it was ironic that him and Cedar managed to click pretty well.

“..How often do you smoke?” Elliott wasn’t judging, just curious, and using the question as a good way to break the silence. Cedar had been smoking most of the times Elliott had seen him recently.

Cedar raised a brow as his half lidded eyes moved to Elliott. One hand held his cigarette at his side, the other hid in his pocket. The farmer hummed. “A day?” He watched Elliott nod, then looked up at the stars. There were a few, huge clouds, but with equally vast spaces in between. They moved slowly, one shrouding the moon.

“Maybe three… four times max?”

Elliott stared at Cedar as he brought the cigarette up to his lips, carefully holding it between his fingers. He knew it wasn’t a good habit, but his friend did manage to make standing around and smoking look good. Elliott went back to the assumption that he only thought this because the smoke was aesthetically pleasing, as was his friend.. Though, the current R&B song playing in the distance only helped to set the scene, especially as Cedar began to sway side to side, silently lip-syncing . Elliott concluded he just had to accept he had a crush, and it didn't appear as if it would be going away any time soon.

Elliott huffed in amusement at the thought. 

“Hm?”

“Thought I saw an owl.”

Chapter Text

Elliott didn’t see Cedar for a few days.

At first, the writer didn’t mind. He knew his friend was busy, and it was common to see less of Cedar around this time of the year, but it felt a bit different this time. There were no accidental run-ins at Pierre’s, and no bumping into each other at the beach. Somedays, Elliott was told he had actually just missed the farmer walk by. Elliott didn’t want to make things weird somehow, but he couldn’t help but be curious about.. Whatever it was that Cedar was up to.

He didn’t want his crush to get the better of him. It was never a big deal if they went a few days without contact, and it was clear in Cedar’s latest letter that the farmer would be busy, and probably not reply as eagerly or quickly if Elliott did. The ‘curse’ Elliott apparently avoided aside.

So, he left it alone. But being alone felt different now that he officially acknowledged the feelings he had. Though, his current feelings could probably just be summed up as him missing the other man. Sudden loss of contact and no letters after back to back doses felt weird. However, the time alone did wonders for Elliott’s writing, and he found himself adding to his book every day with little issue.

On the thirteen, Elliott didn’t think much of Cedar’s whereabouts. It was Abigail's birthday, and the two were kinda close. They probably played video games all day with Sam and Sebastian. Cedar deserved the break, Elliott thought.

On the fourteenth, Elliott swung by the farm to see if Cedar needed help with anything. He didn’t get very far with answers, as Cedar’s truck was nowhere in sight. A quick look at the farm told Elliott that Cedar had a lot of work to do the next day with harvesting, and the day after that with the Fair. The writer decided he would return the next day to help, knowing that Cedar may try to turn him down.

Elliott felt a bit childish as he walked home that day. He really was like a kid with a crush, eagerly waiting for the weekend to be over to see them at school on Monday morning.
-

Meanwhile, Cedar wasn’t necessarily busier after hanging out with Elliott on the tenth. On the eleventh, Cedar did his usual amount of running around, then fished for a few hours before deciding to call it an early night.

On the twelfth, he woke up a bit late. He thought he had plugged his phone in to charge the night before, but the charger was knocked out of the outlet at some point, probably by the cat. His alarm never went off due to his phone being dead. Cedar wasn't anywhere he was supposed to be at his usual time that day.

Saturday the thirteenth was Abigail’s birthday, so he was sure to complete everything on time so he could go hang out with her. They played video games with Sam and Sebastian, at one point stopping to walk along the train tracks. The group was gone for a few hours, and had basically spent the entire middle chunk of the day together until dinner time when Abigail was called back home. Cedar spent the rest of the night in bed on his laptop, reading the stories he wasn’t willing to share.

On the fourteenth, Cedar took the cat to a vet in the city. Lasagna had briefly gone out that morning while Cedar started his chores, and got into an altercation with another animal. He came back with a slight limp that Cedar almost didn’t notice, and some cuts. Luckily, none of his injuries were very serious, though he would have to wear a cone for a few days while a particular cut healed, and wasn’t allowed out of the house.

Having not seen Elliott for a few days, Cedar felt a bit bad, but figured the writer would understand. He didn't exactly enjoy disappearing for days on end. If anything, he knew he would see Elliott at the fair. Everyone went to that.

—-

Monday, the fifteenth. Cedar woke up a little earlier than usual. Six- thirty to be exact. He didn’t want to rush through breakfast, and pulled on the closest longsleeve and pair of sweatpants he could find. He was secretly dreading the day’s work ahead, but he knew the pay off would be good, as it always was. The amount of pumpkins he was growing versus the amount of space he had that could be holding even more? It really wasn’t anything to whine about, in his opinion. And he really did want to grow a much larger amount in the future. It would benefit him and the town. Cedar actually wanted to grow at least one hundred, maybe even two hundred this season. But when the day came to plant everything, for some reason, he just didn’t have it in him. He wasn’t sure why.

Even as he stood in the farmhouse doorway leaning against the doorframe eating a bowl of cereal at seven a.m, gazing out at his farm in the peace and quiet of the early morning calm, he couldn’t fully place what was stopping him. With one look at just his in-season fruit trees and the bounty that hung from their branches, he knew he wasn’t doing bad. But he knew he could be doing better. And he wanted to. He just wasn’t.

Cedar wondered if it was because he was subconsciously afraid his social life would suffer, even though he kept most people at arm's length until he was sure they were ‘safe’, which stopped his social life from flourishing as much as it could be in the first place.

Woah. So it’s that kind of day, huh?

The farmer paused mid chew at the sudden introspection. He swallowed, before looking down at his bowl, mixing his cereal around slowly.

Let’s not do that again today.

“Cedar!”

The farmer turned his head quickly, surprised he hadn’t heard the man approaching even though he was lost in his thoughts.

“ Elliott? It’s-” Cedar looked at his wrist, quickly realizing he hadn’t put his watch on yet, “-Like seven in the morning! What are you doing here?”

Elliott came to a stop a few feet away from the deck, hands on his hips and a grin on his face, clearly more wide awake and ready for the day than Cedar. “I’m here to check up on you! And to help you if you’ll have me.” Elliott wore a regular t-shirt and jeans, a pair of boots. There was a hair tie on his wrist just in case. Cedar blinked.

So bright.

“So-...” Cedar paused, not entirely sure of what to say. He was going to try to reason with the man. Tell him that the average weight of his pumpkins was in the 20lbs range. That some of them were definitely going to be heavier than that. That pumpkins weren’t going to be the only thing they had to deal with today. He just knew it was the writer’s biggest concern.

Cedar sighed, defeated. “I’m not going to send you home when you’re here ready so early in the morning. You win this time.”

Elliott’s grin widened, and his eyes squinted slightly from such a huge, genuine smile. Cedar looked back down to his bowl with a soft smile.

It’s like looking at the sun.

“But I still have to get changed and have coffee first.”

He brought another spoonful of cereal to his mouth, then gestured for Elliott to follow him inside.

Elliott happily obliged.

—

It was two-thirty when the men were finally done. Elliott and Cedar were on the back bed of Cedar’s truck, their feet dangling over the edge. Elliott sat upright and facing forward with a bottle of water in hand, and Cedar laid flat on his back next to him, seemingly ready for a nap with his hands clasped together and laid against his stomach.

“My arms feel like noodles,” Elliott began, cutting himself off with a sip of water. “At least we’re finally done, though.” The work wasn’t terrible, but for someone who didn’t do this kind of stuff everyday.. Elliott knew he’d be feeling sore in the morning, if not much sooner. “My back hurts.”

“ Heh .. You get used to it. Then it mostly just becomes time consuming. We made good time considering we stopped for lunch, too. Sometimes I’ll just stop and eat some fruit for a sec, because, y’know. It’s everywhere. But an actual meal?  I usually just work straight through..” Cedar’s sentence trailed off as the farmer stared up at the clouds.

There was a moment of silence while Elliott drank more water, before sighing. “That doesn’t sound too good for you. I felt like I was starving only an hour in. And to wait that long every day?..” Elliott shook his head, dismissing the idea. “Hunger aside, I’m glad I could help you. What are friends for if not to enjoy the good and help you through the bad?” He smiled, content.

Cedar’s eyes moved to the side to look up at Elliott. From this angle, most if not all of his face was blocked by a curtain of auburn hair. It somehow still managed to look good after all that work.

“... Thank you for coming by. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Like I said, it’s what friends are for. And I wanted to! ” Elliott turned to look down at Cedar, moving his hand to brace himself, his other setting the water bottle aside. Cedar recoiled slightly at the enthusiasm. “Sorry.. But you never ask for help, and I hadn't seen you in a few days, so.. I thought, why not , you know? And I knew you weren’t going to request any help even though you’ve looked tired lately.”

Cedar let out an amused huff. “I wasn’t going to ask, you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” Elliott quipped, clearly not having doubted himself for a second as he grinned.
Cedar gave a defeated smile.

“Honestly, this whole farming thing..” Cedar moved his hands to his sides to help himself sit up, “Wasn’t really what I had in mind. But hey, shit happens.” He shrugged his shoulders before hopping off the back of the truck, the dirt below his feet momentarily making a little cloud.

Elliott’s gaze had been fixed on the other man the whole time, but even more so now that he was curious. “What do you mean?”

Cedar propped an elbow up onto the side of the truck and leaned against it lazily. “Uh, well..” He searched for the words for a few seconds. “Farming isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I came here. It was kind of just something I started doing because it was expected of me by the town.” Cedar said all of this casually, as if it was no big deal. Meanwhile, Elliott almost looked speechless, as if his heart was about to break.

“You moved onto a farm , and started the arduous process of cultivating crops, all because of u-”

“That was at first though!” Cedar cut Elliott off, quickly putting up a hand for him to wait and listen. “I like it now! Obviously, or else I wouldn’t be doing it. There was a bit of a learning curve, but- I do enjoy it now! I wouldn’t know what else to do with myself.”

Elliott didn’t seem content with Cedar’s words. It was clear, in fact, and Cedar didn’t need to hear anything else to know he had some more explaining to do. Cedar took a step away from the truck, making vague gestures as he explained himself.

“I had nothing else to do when I got here, so, it was just. ‘Hey, I guess I’m going to learn how to farm now. I have all this land specifically meant for farming. Why not?’ That and random odd jobs throughout town because people love when a new guy moves to town who can lift things up and put them down.”

The tangent Cedar went off on seemed to help calm Elliott down a little, but the writer wasn’t about to just let the conversation end there. Cedar could only watch and wait as Elliott stared at him, clearly piecing together his next question. The farmer was a bit uncomfortable, but of course that would be the byproduct of accidentally putting himself on the spot like this. He dug his hands into his pockets, prayed for a cigarette, and quietly cursed under his breath for leaving them in the front seat of the truck. He wasn’t about to move and go get them. Things felt a bit too tense for that. He felt like a child, waiting to be scolded.

Suddenly, Elliott’s gaze softened as he looked off to the side at nothing in particular, sighing, and it caught Cedar off guard. He tensed up slightly when Elliott looked directly back at him.

“Cedar, why did you move here? But like, really move here. No ‘change of scenery’, or ‘the city was too loud,’ or any of your usual nonsense.”

It was the word ‘nonsense’ that struck a chord the most, and it seemed like Elliott picked up on it right away, if the somewhat surprised look on his face wasn’t from regret at his choice of words. Before Cedar could answer, Elliott hopped off the truck, and apologized. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. It’s none of my business.” He looked like he was about to try to change the topic.

“Ah, no.. I mean, you’re right, but you’re not.” Cedar started to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind his ear, but then he decided to just undo the entire bun. Elliott waited patiently while his friend quickly ruffled his hair before running a hand over his head and pushing it all back. When some of it fell back into his face, he pushed that section behind his ear, before continuing.

“We’ve been friends for a while now and I shouldn’t keep giving vague answers to... Basic information about myself. It’s not fair, especially when you’re way more honest about yourself with me.” Cedar’s hands dug into his pockets again, his head tilted down the slightest bit as he looked to Elliott, who tried to hide his eagerness.

“I got kicked out of my house- sort of. I left, but they were going to kick me out. My parents, I mean.” Cedar paused awkwardly, before slowly making his way to the front of the truck to grab his cigarettes off the front seat. “It was for the best, really. They were just terrible to be around. For me, at least. They didn’t bug my sister half as much.” Cedar opened the driver’s side door, took his cigarettes, and closed the door. He quietly returned to his previous position in front of Elliott, who merely blinked in response to the story so far, before Cedar watched him raise a concerned brow. Cedar held the pack of cigarettes in his hand, the lighter in the other, but didn’t make an attempt to combine the two yet.

“But why? You don’t seem very, um. Problematic.” Cedar tended to drink in moderation. He wasn’t known for being particularly loud or obnoxious. The only thing Elliott could really think of as a reason was Cedar’s smoking, but he did that in moderation, too. Unless he did it more in the past? Elliott didn’t think that was a good enough reason either, even if Cedar smoked a pack a day.

Cedar stared at the man in front of him. He was genuine. Probably wouldn’t hurt a fly. Showed up at seven a.m to help with something he definitely didn’t need to just because they were friends. Honest. Cedar looked away for a moment, hand moving to gently rest on his shoulder as it still held his lighter. He moved both hands to his pockets, putting away his cigarettes and lighter before folding his arms, and looking back to Elliott.

“Orientation.”

Elliott stared at Cedar. He only blinked. Cedar took the silence as Elliott taking a second too long to decipher the meaning of the word.

“Sexual orientation.”

“No, no, I understood!” Elliott brought both hands up in a ‘stop’ gesture, waving them slightly for Cedar to let him explain. “I was just thinking- I remembered what the colors of that pin on your bookshelf represented! Putting the pieces together, if you will.” Elliott somewhat awkwardly reset himself to his earlier sitting position on the truck, keeping eye contact the whole time. He rested his hands in his lap, and didn’t look particularly bothered by the news, just a bit surprised. Nothing that made Cedar immediately regret his decision to tell him.

“...” After a few seconds of silence, Cedar smirked and huffed a quiet laugh, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he shook his head, looking down at the ground. He seemed visibly relieved. “Honestly, I thought that’s when you found out and you were just too polite to say anything, or you didn’t mind, at least.” Cedar raised his head to look at Elliott.

“I sort of immediately recognized the colors but I couldn’t figure out why. I think at the moment, I just wrote it off as another colorful thing in your room, so.. But I don’t mind! Not that my opinion matters. But, I’m actually quite happy to learn that.” The fact that there was hope for his crush to possibly pan out in the future aside. Elliott turned pink at the thought, but quickly mentally swatted the idea away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry, I guess I could have told you sooner. I know I suck at, like. Letting people in.” Cedar moved a hand to his hip, his other hand brushing his hair behind his ear again. It almost immediately returned to its previous position in front of his face.

“I don’t mean it that way. I am happy you trust me to share, though! Of course. But it was more of me feeling excited to find someone in the same boat.” Elliott twiddled his thumbs in his lap, a somewhat shy smile on his face.

Cedar’s eyes widened slightly before his brows knit together as he fully processed the sentence. “Wait. So..You’re bi? Or,” Cedar brought a hand up to his mouth, clearly deep in thought as he looked off to the side at a random tree.

“Bisexual,” Elliott calmly confirmed.

“I thought.. I had no idea because of how.. You and Leah,” Cedar finally lowered his hand from his mouth, quickly reaching both hands into his pockets. He needed a cigarette with this turn of events.

Elliott turned red, lips pursed in a flat line. He swallowed, before laughing and rubbing at the back of his neck. “No, we’re just good friends. It felt like there was the chance for something, but… We have some history but we’ve never really.. There was some things but we stopped before actually..” Elliott struggled with his words, not helping the heat in his cheeks. He groaned. Cedar understood the basic gist.

“Never went all the way, huh?” Cedar simply felt baffled as he stuck a cigarette between his lips, lighting it on his first try. He just knew there was something going on between Elliott and Leah. They just meshed so well together that he simply never questioned anything different. But finding out that they had never went all the way really was news to him.

Elliott dragged a hand down his face, no longer maintaining eye contact with Cedar as he did his best to pretend he wasn’t as red as the apples from a nearby tree. “Yeah.”

Cedar took a long drag on his cigarette. His only response was, “Damn.” There was an uncomfortably long silence for Elliott. Cedar just stood as casually in shock as someone could manage. “I really thought you guys did that already.”

“You sound like you’ve put too much thought into my sex life,” Elliott said under his breath.

“Woah, no, not really! It was just something I always thought. That you two had something going. So to hear it didn’t, uh,” Cedar quickly did air quotes, “amount to anything, I’m just really surprised is all.”

Elliott sighed, hands folded in his lap, face just casually red at this point. “We got close but, no, we decided to just remain good friends.” Elliott watched Cedar nod along in understanding before deciding to test the waters with a little payback, but also satiate some of his curiosity as well. “...What about you and Abigail?”

Cedar recoiled slightly, visibly wincing as though he was hoping that he would evade any uncomfortable questions. He reluctantly turned a shade of red as well, before seeming a bit dejected. Elliott raised a brow while Cedar talked through the smoke leaving his mouth.

“That’s what I thought too, at first glance. I never acted on anything or gave her any ideas, though. The entire time I’ve been friends with her, including when she told me, it’s been clear that she likes Sebastian.” Cedar paused before realizing that he shared Abigail’s secret. He quickly pointed his cigarette at Elliott. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Elliott lifted up a hand. “I won’t tell a soul.” After a few seconds, he smiled, and couldn’t help but laugh at the overall situation. It took a moment for Cedar to follow suit, but he chuckled quietly to himself. To think they were both so wrong about the other’s love life.

The two continued to talk for a few brief minutes. Cedar invited Elliott inside, but Elliott refused, wanting to shower and get back to his cabin to add more to his book. He had a few ideas he wanted to jot down and soon. Cedar understood, wanting a shower as soon as possible as well. The two parted ways knowing that they’d see each other at the fair.

When Cedar stepped back into the farmhouse, he began to peel off his dirt covered layers and throw them into the washer. Half way through, he got a text from an unsaved number, although they had last exchanged messages almost a year ago exactly. Cedar stared at the text for a long moment. He finished putting his clothes in the washing machine, and quickly headed to the shower.

Chapter Text

The Stardew Valley Fair.

Games! Tourists! The grange display Cedar didn’t really feel like setting up this year but did anyway! It wasn’t Cedar’s favorite town passtime, not even top three, but he enjoyed the games and food. He always liked how the whole town showed up for events, all close knit and stuff. It was one of his favorite things about Pelican Town.

Meanwhile, his favorite thing about the Stardew Valley Fair was that it meant winter was coming, and his free time would increase dramatically, which basically just meant he could now nap whenever he wanted. Yeah, he’d still have to tend to the animals, but he enjoyed that. The knots in his back and hours in the sun and dirt, not so much. Secretly being in some amount of pain all the time got old, and the winter meant he could heal up a bit, and his body would feel like how it used to before he got into this whole farming thing, even if for just a few weeks.

Cedar could also help Elliott more with his book. The writer seemed to be doing fine lately, but as of this morning, asked Cedar if he could read some of it. Apparently there was a part that wasn’t flowing right. Cedar had no problem with this, especially since Elliott had once again helped him today.

It was nice not having to set up the grange display by himself.

Speaking of Elliott… Cedar’s eyes peeked to his left at the man. He watched as Elliott looked at the Spinning Wheel as if he was peering into its soul, or trying to use telekinesis to get it to land on green in an attempt to raise his star tokens by a third. His arms were crossed under the warmth of his red coat, and Cedar admired this determined face of his. Strong jaw. Nice cheekbones.

Cedar looked back to the Spinning Wheel. He wasn’t about to let finding out about Elliott’s sexuality trick him into developing some unnecessary crush just because they were in the same boat. He’d never thought about Elliott like that, and didn’t want to open that door just because he could. That definitely wasn’t a good enough reason to get into a relationship of any kind with someone. Speaking of..

Cedar brought his phone out of his pocket just enough to see his notifications. He had zero. Elliott suddenly put his hand on Cedar’s shoulder. Cedar quickly looked at the man, before noticing that the arrow on the game was on green, and Elliott had won. “Oh, nice!” Cedar laughed lightly, tucking his phone away.

“Yes! I’m going to run my tokens to Leah.” Elliott removed his hand from Cedar’s shoulder, and collected his tokens.

“You’re giving your tokens to Leah?” Cedar tilted his head to the side.

“There’s a particular prize she wants, but it’s a bit on the costly end. She couldn’t get it last year, and there’s nothing amongst the prizes that catches my eye. So, I’m giving her all of my tokens this year.” Elliott grinned, proud that he was able to win the game of chance. Again. “Between the two of us by now we should have more than enough, so she can get something else, too.” Elliott’s eyes glanced around for Leah.

“That’s cool. Let me know if there’s anything new that I might be interested in.” Cedar chimed as Leah finally fell into Elliott’s sights. Cedar liked collecting the banners from the town’s events and hanging them in his room, but this one didn’t offer one. None of the usual prizes really piqued his interest beyond that. And if they did, he already bought it in a previous year. A.k.a, the well dressed rarecrow he keeps by the chicken coop purely for aesthetic reasons.

“Of course. I’ll be back in a bit,” Elliott grinned, then waved as he headed off to Leah’s side. Cedar watched him go. The two met up, Leah seemed excited, and then they went off in the direction of Pierre and his prizes. The farmer took this time to take a few steps away from the Spinning Wheel game, and stand off to the side.

Cedar didn’t have much else to do here. He could play a few more games with Elliott, the fair wasn’t going to end for a few more hours. He turned his wrist to check his watch. Eleven-fifty three.

That’s why it feels warmer, it’s almost noon.

Cedar hadn’t realized how much time had passed between setting up his grange display, socializing a bit in town, helping Elliott do math and playing the Spinning Wheel game six times. Cedar smirked at the thought, then looked up at the sky. It was a perfect day for the fair. Clear skies with the sun beaming down. Definitely one of the warmer days this season, and Cedar had on a long sleeve under his hoodie. Both were black and would do little to keep him cool in this steadily growing heat. He didn’t know how Elliott still had his coat on.

Maybe I’ll head back to the farm for a bit and change real fast.

Just as he had finished his thought, an arm snaked over Cedar’s shoulder. He looked to see who it was, his personal space being breached for the second time in two minutes. Cedar smirked. “I told you to tell me when you were almost here.”

—-

Elliott watched as Leah excitedly picked out the green rug she wanted as a prize, along with a few potted plants.

“This rug will look great in front of my bed! Will probably feel a lot better to step onto in the morning than wood, too.” Leah smiled, cute and squinty eyed. “Would you mind helping me take all this to my cabin?” She looked up at Elliott, the potted plants lined up on the prize counter as Pierre patiently waited for them to leave.

Elliott nodded. “Sure, but I have to tell Cedar I’ll be going with you. We should pass him, however.” He grabbed two of the potted plants, one held in each arm, medium sized. Leah carried the rug in one arm, and held a tiny potted plant in her other hand. Elliott turned to face the rest of the town. “I left him by the-”

Almost on cue, Cedar was about to walk past the two, a guy that Elliott didn’t recognize following closely to him. “Hey, I’m going to head back to my place to get rid of this hoodie and stuff, I’ll be back in a bit!” Cedar spoke quickly with a wave, the guy following giving a friendly wave as well. Both seemed to be in good spirits as they passed by, and a few seconds later the two could hear Cedar say, “Easy, that’s the second time you’ve almost tripped me.” The guy playfully bumped into him again, and Cedar nudged him as well. It was easy to see that on some level, they were quite comfortable with each other, especially since it seemed they were quickly verging on almost wrestling in the middle of the road that led to the farm.

“Okay, see you!” Leah called, before looking up at Elliott. She opened her mouth to say something, but paused, looking between Elliott and the quickly disappearing Cedar. Elliott seemed somewhat.. Surprised? Intrigued? Leah wasn’t too sure how she’d describe his face. “Are you confused by Cedar’s friend?” She asked in a polite tone.

Elliott snapped out of his daze, looking back to the girl. “Oh, no. Well.. Yes.” He began to follow Leah toward the south end of town. “I’ve never seen him before. Do you know who he is?”

“That’s Cedar’s friend,” Leah repeated calmly, not really answering the question. “He came to the fair last year, too, that’s the only reason I recognize him. I don’t think Cedar ever gave me his name, though.” She paused for a moment in the middle of town, resetting the rug in her arms as it began to slip.

Elliott guessed the guy seemed vaguely familiar. Too vague to actually say for sure. They didn’t get a lot of tourists in Pelican Town, but this was also someone that he would have maybe seen a whole year ago. “I don’t remember seeing him.” Elliott was ready to shrug off the topic, until Leah’s next reply.

“Yeah, I think Cedar met him at the fair two years ago. We talked about it briefly last year. I think Cedar said- Hold on.” Leah adjusted the rug again, “I think that guy’s family has come here for the past few fairs, and he just gets dragged along? But he doesn’t play any games or spend time with them. He just disappears with Cedar to his house.”

That last sentence caught Elliott’s attention.

They just disappear to Cedar’s house?

Elliott’s mind immediately jumped somewhere it had no business being, if you asked a third-person version of him who didn’t have a slowly (quickly?) deepening crush. Cedar could spend his time with whoever doing whatever. And maybe they really were just platonic friends who met at the fair and really hit it off.

But to immediately abandon the fair and head to his house?

Elliott visibly grimaced, cheeks turning pink. He wasn’t dumb or inexperienced. He knew what two consenting adults could get up to when they snuck off somewhere. And he didn’t want to think about it.

That is none of my business!

“Hellooo~ Earth to Elliott?” Leah called, reeling Elliott in just in time for him to avoid tripping over something. She giggled, before looking a bit concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Elliott looked at the woman before focusing on the path in front of him, making a right to head past Emily and Hailey’s house toward the forest. “Sorry, Leah. I should watch where I’m going. I’d feel terrible if I dropped one of your new pots because I can’t just-,” Elliott began to trail off, talking under his breath, “-keep my mind out of the gutter..”

“Is this because of what I said about Cedar and that guy?” Leah raised a brow.

Elliott’s cheeks turned the next shade of pink as he scowled to himself.

“Ohh, I see. You’re jealous.” She said it quietly enough that nobody could hear her, except maybe the guy that manned the Spinning Wheel game, but that wouldn’t really matter anyway.

Elliott noticeably stiffened. “Jealous!?” He huffed, briefly looking at the woman for emphasis as he walked, before facing ahead to watch where he was going. Leah only giggled as he continued, “Why would I be jealous of that guy!?”

Despite his outward appearance and reply, Elliott took a second to think about it. The stranger was about Cedar’s height and age. A bit of a darker olive skin tone. Shaved head. Elliott would say his eyes were brown if he had to choose a color. He wore an orange hoodie that seemed to fit just right, and he was able to guess this guy most likely went to the gym, even with only his forearms on display from the rolled up sleeves. He had on black jeans, and a name brand pair of sneakers. Definitely expensive. Definitely cool. This stranger also seemed rather polite, though a bit rowdy, but apparently Cedar didn’t mind. In fact, in Elliott’s brief view, this guy seemed to bring out a more playful side of Cedar.

If they aren’t just friends.. Was that his type? I can’t compete with that.

“Elliott!”

The writer immediately stopped in his tracks, and looked around. He had to turn around to see Leah standing where they were supposed to turn to loop and enter her house. Elliott had walked right past it while he was lost in his thoughts, apparently lost in them longer than he realized. He quickly made his way back to his friend, and once he could, quickly made his way into her cabin as well.

Leah immediately laid down her new rug, right in front of her bed as she said she would. Elliott stood near the door, still, holding all three of her new plants patiently as he continued to overthink things he didn’t want to, mouth in a flat line and his brows furrowed. His usual flustered and or unhappy-with-himself face, it seemed. Leah went over to him and took the small plant, placing it on the window by her easel, while she instructed Elliott to place the other two wherever he felt like for now. He put them off to the side, by the phone and fireplace.

“Why can’t you just be honest with me, Elliott?” Leah asked in a friendly tone, putting her hands on her hips. “Or, at least be honest with yourself. I know you have a crush on Cedar, it’s obvious.”

Elliott made the face again as he paused in the middle of removing his coat. He then slowly laid it over the back of a chair next to the dining table. The writer squinted, looking directly at Leah. “... How obvious?”

“Almost painfully so,” Leah giggled, hand coming up to partially cover her mouth. “To me, at least.” She lowered her hand to her hip. “I’ve noticed you’re way more animated when you talk about him these days. The blushing. Clearly being distracted and jealous like a teenager. It’s cute.” Leah smiled.

Of course she’d notice.  I can’t believe it took her this long to say something. I kind of wish she wouldn’t say anything.

Elliott sat and buried his face in his hands with a groan, elbows on his knees. Leah walked over and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, patting a few times before giving it a little squeeze. “You’ll be okay, big guy.”

“I know,” Elliott whined like a child. “I thought I could just live with it but I found out-” Elliott cut himself off from revealing Cedar’s secret, “-some things, and now I’m not sure of what I’m supposed to do with myself.” The writer wondered if anyone else knew about Cedar’s sexuality. Maybe Abigail, Sam or Sebastian? Abigail seemed the most likely candidate. Elliott knew Cedar was friendly with Leah, but he didn’t think she would know. He couldn’t explain why at the moment, he just had a feeling. Maybe in the future, Elliott could tell Cedar that Leah was a safe person to share his secret with, since she knew Elliott was bi.

But does she already think he isn’t straight because of this friend of his? Or am I the only one with wandering thoughts?

Leah hummed, thinking. She removed her hand from Elliott’s shoulder, and walked to stand a few feet in front of him instead of at his side. The redhead crossed her arms. “Well, did you find out anything that means you might have a chance?” After a pause, she added, “I’ve seen how he looks at you.” Leah mentioned this calmly, as if this information would somehow help Elliott calm down.

Elliott finally raised his head. “How he looks at me?” He was a bit wide eyed, before he shook his head. “Preposterous. You must be overthinking.” Elliott sat up, and leaned back against the chair, one arm draped over the corner of the table. “He doesn’t look at me any differently than he looks at you or anyone else in town.”

“Wow, there was no hesitation there at all,” Leah blinked, surprised.

“Because I’m sure of it!” Elliott’s arms went out in a vague gesture for emphasis. One returned to the table, the other fell to his lap, though he was now leaning forward. “He treats everyone with kindness. He looks at everyone like they’re the center of the universe when he listens to them…” Elliott turned his head to look at anything that wasn’t Leah, slowly turning red as he continued his tangent, though a bit quieter this time. “He’s inspiring half my damn book at this point and he doesn’t even know it!”

Leah giggled again, and Elliott’s gaze quickly snapped to meet hers as he scowled. The woman didn’t seem to be phased. “Well,” she paused, eyes looking up in thought, “Maybe I did see something that wasn’t there because I was looking for it. If the guy he’s with right now-” Elliott rubbed at his face, having momentarily forgotten where Cedar was, “-isn’t just a friend, then at least you know he’s not straight. Or, at least not fully straight, and you may have a chance. I don’t think Cedar would keep us in the dark about him being in a long distance relationship, the type of partner aside.” The girl waved a hand as if to further dismiss the importance of gender when it came to the main point of Cedar most likely being single, as they had previously thought.

Elliott groaned quietly. “This is true..” He still didn’t want to think about this stranger right now. Friend or otherwise, his mind was only hooked onto one aspect that he kept reminding himself he did not need to know. “You’re right, I am jealous. I don’t want to be, though. What they’re up to right now, or not up to right now, is really none of my business…” Elliott pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat back in the chair. The motion made his coat slip off the back of it somehow, and he took another few seconds to simmer in his feelings before he finally sighed, and reached to pick the coat up from the floor.

He kind of wanted advice. Really badly. But didn’t want to breach Cedar’s trust by telling Leah his sexuality, even if Elliott knew Leah wouldn’t have anything bad to say or do with the information. Elliott quickly flung his coat over the back of the chair before facing Leah, hands in his lap. “So, if Cedar wasn’t straight, and wasn't in a relationship, what do you think I should do?”

Elliott paused, bringing his hands back up to cover his face again as he recalled  vital pieces of information, seeming annoyed. “Agh, but what even is his type? Is he even looking for a relationship? I don’t-...” Elliott slowly dragged his hands down his face as Leah stifled her laughter again. “Why do you enjoy my suffering?”

“I don’t!” The woman grinned before putting a hand on her hip, the other hung at her side. “I think it’s nice that you’ve found a muse and someone to fuss over. Someone that makes you happy.” Leah smiled, clearly genuine and thoughtful.

Elliott sighed, a small smile gracing his lips as well as a moment of silence passed between the two. “Thank you. I just really don’t know if it will work out..” He looked down at the floor, then looked back up at Leah as she spoke.

“I can’t answer any of your questions, Elliott, sorry. But I’ll be rooting for you the whole way!”

—

It was about an hour before Cedar and the stranger returned to the fair. The walk back had no playful nudging, but the two still walked side by side, joking about one thing or another. Cedar had caught sight of Elliott by the slingshot game in the same moment that his friend heard his sibling in the distance.

“Text you later,” the guy raised a fist, looking between Cedar and his sibling.

“See you around,” Cedar replied, bumping his fist into the other’s.

Elliott watched the quick exchange unfold, and then briefly followed the stranger with his eyes as he jogged away out of sight, before his gaze fell back onto Cedar. Their eyes met almost immediately, and Elliott looked away just as fast. He regretted the action, thinking there was no reason for him to have done that. When he looked back at Cedar, he was much closer now, brow raised in confusion.

“What was that look for?” Cedar quietly wondered aloud, eyes half lidded as he stopped a few feet from Elliott and leaned toward him in that questioning yakuza-like manner he does sometimes.

Elliott swallowed hard, and couldn’t meet Cedar’s gaze, red and laughing awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it, honest.”

“I see, I see,” Cedar replied, sounding unconvinced as he fixed himself into a normal standing position. He had left the hoodie behind as promised, now in a white t-shirt, a pocket on one side of the chest. He put his hand on his hip. A sly smile tugging at the farmer’s lips with those half lidded eyes still on the writer.

Elliott continued to look in whatever direction didn’t have Cedar in it, uncomfortable, for lack of a better word. Cedar was smart. Calculating. Like a cat or a villain. When they passed the five second mark of whatever weird and terrible game they were playing, Elliott picked villain . His friend seemed to enjoy his suffering, looking as if he had a very good idea about what Elliott was thinking.

“How ungentlemanly of you, Elliott,” Cedar grinned mischievously, definitely finding way too much joy in getting under Elliott’s skin.

Elliott gasped, finally looking at Cedar again. “What!? No- I was not-” Elliott stopped, clearly losing this fight as Cedar smiled victoriously, watching his author friend stumble over his words like an embarrassed middle schooler. Elliott would prefer Leah’s laughter over this. He crossed his arms, attempting to stand calm and tall, as though he wasn’t a mess literally two seconds prior. “What you do in your downtime is none of my business.”

“Uh huh.” Cedar replied calmly, before quoting Elliott from the day prior for the reaction more than anything else. “ You sound like you’ve put too much thought into my sex life.”

Elliott was frozen, aghast, embarrassed, and a list of other adjectives as his breath caught in his throat and his face flushed a dark red at just how blunt his friend could be. Cedar could only take the sight in for a second before he looked away to laugh loudly. If this was a normal day in town, some people may have stopped to see what was so funny. Thankfully, there were other, more noisy things going on.

Once Cedar calmed down, he turned to face Elliott, who was slowly and steadily returning to his usual color, and was kind enough not to walk away while Cedar’s back was turned. “Alright, I’m done, I’m done.” He seemed genuine, but Elliott looked unconvinced, arms still folded at his chest. “Honest!”

“ Promise?” Elliott mused with a raised brow, suddenly a pro at eye contact and unwavering gazes.

“Yes.” Cedar sighed, green looking into green before he was the first to look away. “Scout’s honor and all that. Let’s go hit up another game or two before the fair wraps up and I gotta take down that damn display,” Cedar huffed, then looked back at Elliott with a smile.

“... I will help you with the display.”

“No,” Cedar joked, before conceding. “Maybe.”

The two played the Slingshot game a couple times before Elliott wandered off in search of a drink, getting stuck in a conversation with Gus about his burgers. Cedar aimlessly drifted toward the fortune teller while he waited for Elliott to return. Deciding he had nothing better to do, Cedar had his fortune read. He stepped away from the booth just as Elliott turned down that section of road. As they headed back toward the center of town, the writer asked Cedar about what the fortune teller told him. He was honest with most of it, although it was all anticlimactic if you asked Elliott. Cedar was careful to keep the reading about his romantic life to himself.

Ooo... It's dark, and I see you and a certain young man. He looks quite hopeful, but happy to be with you. Hmmm... now what's this young man's name? ... I believe it starts with an ‘E.’

Chapter Text

The last week wasn’t much different than any other. After the fair ended, Elliott helped Cedar take down the grange display and bring everything back to the farm. Cedar had teased Elliott one last time before he left about getting his mind out of the gutter, and Elliott went home. The next few days were just regular ones. Farm stuff, Pierre’s, talk with Abigail, farm stuff, pet the cat, dinner, sleep, wake up, feed the cat and so on.

Lasagna had his cone of shame removed in the middle of the week, much to the cat and Cedar’s delight. The poor thing hated walking around in the plastic, so he mostly, and uncharacteristically, just laid in bed or on Cedar’s lap every chance he could between meal and bathroom breaks. It was when Elliott and Cedar ran into each other on the pier that Elliott asked what day was good for Cedar to help him with his previous request of taking a look at a part of his book that ‘wasn’t flowing right.’ Today, the twenty-second, was the day they picked.

The only other noteworthy thing about the past week was the echoing words of the fair fortune teller bouncing around the inside of the farmer’s head. It wasn’t as easy to brush off as Cedar would have liked. The fortune teller’s words followed him like a shadow, creeping in on his down time when he finally let his guard down.

Within a few days, smoke breaks were no longer a thing to stand idly through while staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. Cedar would find himself continuing his chores while the cigarette hung from his lips, because if his mind was allowed to wander, it would work to create the image described by the fortune teller. A young man looking hopeful. In the dark. Happy to be with him. Who’s name starts with an ‘E’.

‘Yeah, okay ,’ was Cedar’s thought one day when the description came to mind, driving itself between him and the usual calm he felt when picking fruit from his trees. He had to stop. Put everything down and walk away, but there was already a cigarette between his lips that he had managed to forget about while being annoyed and zoned out. He had drug his hands down his face after he came to a stop, only having walked a few feet away, and wished he could take a smoke break from his smoke break.

He wasn’t annoyed at Elliott, not that he really could be. Cedar wasn’t particularly annoyed with the fortune teller, either, and he wouldn’t dare say it outloud if he was at the possibility of… something happening, probably. He wasn’t going to test whatever powers that be. He was annoyed that the description popped up whenever he had finally found a moment to relax . Annoyed that it popped up when he tried read those secret romance stories he liked to visit on his laptop, something that he used as a small escape here and there because it was entertaining, dramatic, or good inspiration for something he definitely didn’t want to think about with these thoughts of Elliott swimming around in his brain.

Cedar assumed that must have been part of his problem, too. Contrary to what Elliott thought, his hour spent with Ben during the fair released a whopping zero percent of sexual tension from his body.

The farmer’s seemingly useless battle with his brain finally came to a head yesterday afternoon, during what started as a nice, calm smoke break on the front step of his house. He remembered his short conversation with Elliott about when he should come over to discuss his book. How happy and content and eager the writer was with Cedar’s answer before he walked away. For clear reasons, this took a turn in his brain, down the route he avoided incessantly. But instead of fighting it, again, Cedar decided it was time for some introspection.

Cedar thought about how he told himself that finding out Elliott’s sexuality wouldn’t immediately change his view on the man, and to not open the gateway to a possible crush. Not something he typically told himself in regards to anyone else who ever came out to him, which wasn’t a lot of people, but was just enough that it deserved to be noted. He also noted that he wouldn’t have to stress not developing a crush on a guy if there wasn’t the risk of developing a crush on said guy.

Cedar thought about Leah, and how he always assumed there was something going on with her and Elliott. He remembered the shock he felt when he found out that they weren’t anything exclusive, let alone anything beyond just ‘good friends’ anymore.
He remembered thinking there was something between them ever since he first moved to town. That they just made sense. Technically right but not anymore.

Cedar quickly realized, though it wasn’t hard to, that Elliott’s supposed relationship with Leah might have been what kept him from ever developing any type of feelings beyond friendship. It would have been pointless. He never gave himself the chance to think of Elliott as anything more than a friend, it was all he was used to. Maybe that’s why he pushed the thought away so much, it was a different and sudden thing. It made no sense to start looking at Elliott in a new light, but to not even let his mind wander the slightest?
Cedar realized he must have been pushing these feelings, whatever they were, down longer than he realized, at least subconsciously.

He thought about how he felt around Elliott. It was really easy for the writer to brighten his mood with his presence alone. The extra help sometimes was really nice, and it was clear that Elliott did it because he actually cared about Cedar’s wellbeing, not just because it was the nice or right thing to do. Being around Elliott was a different vibe than being around his other friends. For clear reasons, like personality and the differences in what everyone thought of as ‘fun’, but there was something else the farmer couldn’t quite place, though Elliott did have hilarious drunk conversations at the Stardrop in his corner.

When the farmer took another moment to assess the writer’s physical attractiveness, it didn’t take long for him to become reluctant, though with good reason. Elliott took good care of himself, a lot better care of himself than someone else might if they lived on a beach and stayed inside to write all day. His hair always managed to look good whether it was blown around by the wind, wet from the shower or rain, and Cedar imagined it probably looked good right after he woke up or in the middle of sleeping, too.

Elliott was tall, with broad shoulders and muscle that made little sense given his main hobby and profession. Nice eyes, nice lashes, nice cheekbones, nice jawline. He had angular masculine features that weren’t overly rugged, kind of like a greek sculpture come to life. The writer’s voice was somewhat soothing during regular conversation, and though Cedar enjoyed when he could get Elliott to lose his cool and yell, because it was funny, he enjoyed when Elliott lowered the volume. When he spoke flatly out of sarcasm, or mumbled something under his breath, or whispered a dirty joke in the bar-

Cedar managed to drop his cigarette on the ground. It fell from his lips when he swallowed from the slowly growing heat in his body. He almost left it there, deciding to quickly head inside and think about something else, but he turned back to pick it up and properly put it out and leave it in the ashtray on the top step. Even in his jumbled mental state, he wouldn’t leave a cigarette on the ground for something to come around and choke on it.

Meanwhile, Cedar wondered if he could win a world record for the amount of denial he had been going through. 

It was like crashing into a wall. 

' And this is why we don't think about things ,' was his first thought when he had finally calmed down and cleared his mind. The nagging feeling from the fortune teller’s words only felt worse before Cedar had gone to bed last night. He wouldn't be so caught up if he wasn't told that whole thing about a hopeful young man whose name started with 'E' pertained to his romantic life specifically. Not platonically. What a way to stress a guy out.

Today, Cedar sat at his kitchen table, hands warm and wrapped around his mug of coffee. Elliott sat across from him, waiting for the farmer’s thoughts on a particular section of, what would eventually be, his second novel. The author had made the scene flow better before Cedar could help him with it, but he still wanted the farmer’s opinion.  When Cedar reached the end, he reread certain parts, before finally speaking up.

“So Hudson is this big time investigator, Carlisle is a bad guy, but that’s because he had to do the bad guy stuff to survive..” Cedar trailed off, making sure he understood all of the implications of the fictional argument he just read, and the character notes he peaked at.

“Yes.”

“And they grew up together but then grew apart after highschool, and it’s been like fifteen years since they’ve seen each other. And now, they gotta work together to solve this case, even though it might lead to Carlisle getting arrested.. But maybe not.”

“Mhm!” Elliott affirmed with a nod.

“I’m digging this romantic subplot between them.” Cedar gently placed the spread of papers down in front of him, the notebook he took them from off to the side.

“Rea- ” Elliott paused for a split second, “ Wait. Er.. What romantic subplot?” He tried to play dumb. That was a big spoiler for his book, and he didn’t think there were enough hints in the relatively small bit of texts Cedar had read. There were definitely some, but out of context, they could easily be viewed as hints at any type of relationship where the people in question were close or had a mutual understanding. Nothing inherently of that nature.

This guy’s good, Elliott thought, surprised at how quick Cedar caught on with such little context.

Green eyes met and Cedar held back a smile. He swept a long lock of hair behind his ear as he looked amongst the papers, picking out a page for proof. He spun it around and slid it closer to Elliott, who stiffened slightly. He looked up to Cedar as the man spoke confidently.

“Paragraph two. The way he grabs Hudson.”

Elliott’s eyes lingered on Cedar’s features for a second, before he swallowed and looked down at the paper. In this section of the scene, Carlisle is grabbing Hudson’s coat as he tries to walk away. At this point, Hudson doesn’t care if he risks being arrested for telling a few “white lies” that might help Carlisle avoid time in prison once this is all over. He tell’s Carlisle about what he didn’t include in his report, decides that’s the end of the conversation, then tells the other to have a good night before turning to leave.

The way Carlisle grabs the investigator’s jacket is firm but gentle, much more gently than he does earlier in the book, unknown to Cedar. He doesn’t jerk the jacket roughly, he just holds it until it’s taught, and Hudson stops walking once he realizes there is resistance. He smoothly turns halfway, body not facing Carlisle while his head does. They hold eye contact in silence for five long seconds.

Elliott slowly reached for his coffee, looking to Cedar. “That doesn’t prove anything. Maybe he’s just playing it safe instead of grabbing him too roughly.”

Before Elliott even finished his sentence, Cedar was sorting through the papers again. “Alright, then explain this one.” Cedar slid another paper to Elliott, this time standing up to point at the exact spot he wanted Elliott to read, dark emerald hair falling to frame his face. The farmer raised a brow, a crooked smile on his face.

Elliott’s eyes darted between the paper and the man in front of him, and finally settled on the paper after a second longer than he should have. The author held his warm mug in both hands as he read:

Hudson carried himself with his usual intimidating grace. But it was softer around the edges at the moment, catching Carlisle off guard. He wondered briefly if it was the moonlight. The investigator waited silently, patiently, with a look that Carlisle couldn’t quite place.

The page’s text ended there, and Elliott took a long sip of his coffee. He could feel the farmer’s gaze, unwavering.

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at,” Elliott lied, “That could easily be interpreted as Hudson having already made up his mind for the sake of his friend’s future, if you’re focusing on the look that can’t be placed..” That really was one way to read it.

“This is some pre-kiss or should-kiss-but-won’t vibes right here,” Cedar smirked, tapping a finger on the page as he spoke. “We’re mentioning the moonlight? This is some consequential, ‘culmination of friendship’, complicated feelings- thing and this man wants to think about the moonlight?” Cedar paused, still waiting for Elliott to look up at him. “ Gay.” Cedar sat down while Elliott tried not to choke on his coffee.

Cedar continued talking, crossing his arms triumphantly. “And that kabedon at the beginning of the scene, Hudson shoving him against the wall? Okay , Elliott.”

“K-Kabe what?” Elliott stuttered, confused. Was there an actual name for that wall shove move, he wondered briefly, before shaking his head and placing his coffee down. “Alright, alright! You got me!” The author raised his hands in defeat with a sigh and a sheepish smile.

Cedar only nodded, content in his victory.

Elliott lowered a hand to his lap, the other resting on the table. He looked at Cedar. “You’re relentless . I didn’t want to spoil anything, and it is mostly up to the reader if they’ll see it like that or write it off as just them being closer now, like in their past. By this point in the book, there’s no unmistakable signs they like each other.” Elliott planned to have multiple ‘could go either way’ moments that culminated in one ‘unmistakable’ moment of a kiss scene.

“I like it,” Cedar grinned, and it hit Elliott like a ray of sunshine. “It’s cool that it’s the opposite of Camelia Station. You know that those characters are interested in each other early on in that one, so it’s refreshing that this one’s more of a slow burn and less direct.”

Elliott blinked, pink, and nodded at Cedar’s words. “Thank you! That’s what I want, for it to feel refreshing.”

Cedar began to fix up and gather the papers in front of him, “I look forward to reading it when it's done… Also, Hudson sounds hot. We love a long haired baddie.” Cedar smirked, chuckling to himself.

Elliott couldn’t help but laugh at Cedar’s comment, before helping the farmer gather up the papers, pens and notebook scattered across the table.

A lot of Hudson’s character was inspired by Cedar, and the author wasn’t sure of if and when he would share that bit of information. Or if Cedar would notice on his own at some point. The way Hudson carried himself, the length of his hair, to the way he could be intimidating without actually doing much. Long stares that sometimes almost felt villainously calculating for a protagonist, like trying to hide a secret in front of a mob boss. His wit and his unexpected kindness. The fact he smoked. Amongst other things. All things Elliott found unique, alluring or interesting about Cedar, some hinted at and others a bit exaggerated for the sake of Hudson’s character.

Elliott had taken some inspiration from Cedar for Carlisle as well. The criminal dressed closer to how Cedar did, a lot of hoodies and loose clothing. He was stronger than he looked with all his muscles constantly hidden. He could have been meant for more, but circumstances lead from one thing to another.

Elliott wondered if it would be the kiss scene that would do him in, and Cedar would show up at his cabin, or possibly avoid him, after realizing or wondering if Elliott based Hudson off of him. He was careful not to bring the notes for that scene. There was a part, prior to the actual kiss, where Hudson looks away embarrassed. Elliott described Cedar’s ‘reluctantly embarrassed’ face to a T.

The author turned a bit red at the thought, shoving all the loose papers into his notebook carefully. When he had sat down to write that scene, it flowed so naturally. He didn’t think much of it that night, just happy to have it all down on paper, but now, in front of the source of all his inspiration, Elliott felt a little dirty. And a bit too warm. He suddenly grew nervous and wondered if he should rewrite the scene.

Cedar’s question of, “What’re you getting all flustered for?” shook the writer out of his daze.

“Huh?” Elliott only turned more red as he looked at the farmer.

“Embarrassed you showed me or something?” Cedar asked with a raised brow and suspicious smile. The farmer enjoyed Elliott’s flustered look, and didn’t really care in the moment if Elliott himself could tell or not. It wouldn’t really be news.

“Ah, no, just got lost in thought is all.” Elliott swallowed, keeping his answer vague and sitting back down, deciding to just try to keep his cool and let the moment pass.

“No dirty thoughts allowed in this house,” Cedar joked, taking his mug into his hand and taking a sip of his coffee.

Elliott frowned, unable to deny anything with a nervous grin on his face, before narrowing his eyes, deciding to get a joke in as well. “Was this policy in place a week ago or is it new?”

Cedar raised a brow and tilted his head, a confused look accompanied by a little hum sound. Then suddenly, “Oh!” And Cedar’s eyes widened as the answer came to him. The farmer laughed lightly to himself, before crossing his arms, leaning back. “ Yeahhh,” Cedar began, drawing out the word in a tone that intrigued Elliott. “ No dirty thoughts or actions took place in this house at that time, officer.”

Now it was Elliott’s turn to be a little confused and wide eyed. “Wait, so.. But all the teasing you did?”

Cedar huffed a laugh, watching the gears turn in Elliott’s head.

Elliott blinked, processing. “I guess you didn’t deny anything but you didn’t confirm anything either.. What were you two doing for an hour, then?” His tone was genuinely curious.

“We kinda just.. Talked?” Cedar shrugged, and repositioned slightly. The farmer noted how Elliott seemed to believe him, and was clearly eager to learn more about this plot twist. “Uhhh, his names Ben. His family drags him out this way every year for the fair. I met him a few years back and, y’know,” Cedar made a vague gesture with both hands close together,  and moved them to the side. “The vibes were there.”

“The vibes? ”

“ Chemistry.”

Elliott nodded. “I see, please continue.” He sipped his coffee.

Cedar huffed another laugh and then did so. “Yeah, so, we kinda just clicked and I brought him back here and did some stuff. Went pretty well. He came back the next year, we did stuff until his mom was ready to hunt him down so his family could go home. And things were like that until this year when I had to call it quits.” Cedar spoke casually and matter-of-fact.

Elliott nodded. Everything Leah told him was true, only Cedar threw in a bit of extra info that turned Elliott red by a few shades as he wondered what the two had been up to that specific year, and for how long , that Ben’s mother got tired of waiting. The author’s face kept the same inquisitive look, however. “That doesn’t explain what you two were talking about for an hour,” reminded Elliott.

“Oh, right, that’s why I started the backstory. Basically, he’s closeted back home, I was a safe way for him to do things without worrying about his home town rep, and the difference this year was that I found out he had a girlfriend. She asked him out about three weeks prior to the fair this year, and he accepted in an attempt to see if he had any remaining shreds of hope that he was bi.”

Cedar raised a hand to the side of his mouth as if he was about to whisper a secret to Elliott. “He’s not .” He lowered the hand then continued. “It wasn’t working and he planned on just releasing frustrations when he got to me and then going back to her and eventually breaking up when he couldn’t bear it anymore.”

Elliott blinked, lips parted slightly. There was silence for a few seconds before Elliott spoke. “So you turned him down so you wouldn’t be helping him cheat on this poor girl?”
Cedar hummed with a nod, then scratched at the side of his head for a second as his eyes looked away from Elliott. His fingers combed through his emerald locks, pushing his hair back before most of it fell back to it’s original position. “I wouldn’t want someone doing that to me, and I wouldn’t want someone to help me do that to someone else who doesn’t deserve it. But he’s not a bad guy, though. Just stuck where he is, like I was. So we just smoked out front and I told him everything I would have needed to hear if I was in his situation. He was a bit mad and frustrated at first but he softened up and understood.”

Elliott stared at Cedar for a few seconds, almost awestruck in his presence and reminded of what a genuine person Cedar was. He could have easily had fun with Ben and sent him off like nothing happened, but he didn’t. He had integrity, even when no one was looking. Elliott thought it was admirable, and told him so.

“It’s just the right thing to do, no big deal.” Cedar shrugged, noting the way the author looked at him. He chose to not make eye contact. “Just sucks because I don’t know when I’m going to do anything again, and it’s been awhile.” The farmer wore a defeated look and slight smile. He didn’t want to speculate on the possible future partner and when he’d finally get one. But it was too late, and he was acutely aware of the only person in town who could be a candidate. He swallowed, and sat quietly, hoping Elliott would fill the silence soon.

Elliott started to ask a question, then stopped. It took him a second to realize that Cedar was alluding to sex. At Cedar’s next sentence, Elliott remained silent, a sudden tension in the air.  He was also aware of the most likely candidate in town for himself. After a few seconds, he took the liberty of breaking the silence. “Well, was that guy your type? It shouldn’t be too hard for you to find someone if you go into the city.”

“No, he wasn’t necessarily my type. He was cute, and we were compatible. but not really at the same time. I don’t know if I really have a type..” Cedar leaned his head back, eyes closed as he thought. “I guess if I could have chosen.. I’d make his hair a bit longer? His build was fine, his height was fine. I’m not exactly picky there. Sexually everything was pretty good but he mostly just wanted to be on the receiving end and forget his problems, which was cool in the sense that I basically got to do whatever I wanted, but not really what I needed.”

Cedar paused, then opened his eyes to look at the author staring back at him with his mouth slightly open, clearly unaware of how he looked right now. “Sorry, was that too T.M.I for sober Elliott, or are you good over there?” He smirked.

Elliott blinked, then grinned wide. “Need I remind you about my age, Cedar? I’d rather not.” Elliott chuckled, though it trailed off as he thought of the implications of Cedar’s last sentence. Cedar had laughed a little too, but both had quieted down again into a loud silence. ‘Top Cedar’, in Elliott’s brain, was just the farmer with that Cheshire grin he does. It made Elliott a little pink, wondering what he was really like. The two stared at each other for a moment, before Cedar decided to prod a little.

“What’s your type?In guys.” Cedar spoke in a somewhat odd way, or at least, that’s how it felt to Elliott. It didn’t have an air of confidence attached to it, or anything else about the usual way Cedar spoke that Elliott had used as inspiration for his book. It was slightly quieter than everything else he’d said tonight. Cedar no longer held eye contact after asking.

Maybe Elliott was overthinking, but it just felt different. It took all his will not to say, ‘You,’ immediately. “I don’t really go off looks. I mean, of course it plays a bit of a factor, but.. As long as they’re just a genuine, honest person. Someone who accepts the more.. Eccentric parts of me, my writing, and doesn’t try to change me into someone I’m not.” Elliott brushed a lock of auburn hair behind his ear, then folded his hands in his lap.

Cedar nodded at the author’s words. He decided to see what else he could learn while they were on the topic. “So when was the last time?” He raised a brow.

Elliott’s lips went into a flat line. He cleared his throat, looking away from Cedar, before looking back to him and saying, “You first.”

“No, no, you first, I insist. ” Cedar smiled innocently in the most devilish way Elliott could have imagined.

The man groaned, looking defeated, and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “A few months…?” He could hear Cedar lean forward in his chair.

“The last all the way or the last time with Leah?”

Elliott dragged his hand down his face. It brushed over his mouth before joining his other hand in his lap. He twiddled his thumbs, not looking at the farmer. “The last ‘all the way’ would be.. A bit over a year.” After a moment, Elliott’s eyes rested on Cedar.

Cedar wore a face that clearly told Elliott he needed to get out more.

The writer winced, before sitting up straighter. “And what about you? ”

Cedar didn’t hesitate to say, “Late winter.”

“You can’t give me that face and then tell me it’s almost been a year for you!” Elliott mused, leaning forward in his seat, brows furrowed.

Cedar raised his hands as though he were surrendering. “Look. I am a very busy man. My body is in shambles and I like to nap in my free time. I feel better in the winter and, yes sadly, that is the only time I really go out to get laid.” The surrender pose turned into a shrug. “And all that work I gotta put in as the top ? When I’ve worked on a farm in the sun all day? I’d rather just stay home, get some inspiration, and handle it myself.” Cedar’s shrug turned into a more dramatic, arms out gesture, before he crossed his arms. “Is what it is.”

“I see. Well, I hope your next partner takes better care of you. Just because you’re the top doesn’t mean you have to do everything and they have to do nothing. I’ve had that problem and it can usually be worked out with clear communication.”

“I know. I think I just need a role reversal for a few days.”

Elliott let that sentence sink in for a second, before he blushed, hard. The image of ‘Top Cedar’ didn’t do as much to his brain as ‘Bottom Cedar’ did, and he was unintentionally way more creative with the picture he painted in his mind. It took all of his willpower, again, to avoid a particular problem from rising. Elliott subconsciously bit his lip. It was brief, and he stopped the second he realized what he was doing. He really did need to get out more. 

Taking in Elliott’s sudden look, Cedar realized the implications of what he’d said. “Oh, I mean that I need to be taken care of! Do minimal work, someone else takes the reins but not the reins, I’ve only topped before.” Cedar’s face quickly felt hot. He wasn’t embarrassed by the miscommunication. It was that Elliott’s mind clearly wandered, and he could only wonder where it went, though he could assume it involved a needier looking version of himself.

—-

Neither man really knew how they survived the awkward ending to their time together. Both seemed to decide to laugh everything off, and wish the other goodnight after a few more minutes of banter. Cedar bit his lip after he closed the door behind Elliott. That was the most awkward time he’s spent with the guy. He wondered if there was a moment at all toward the end where either of them wasn’t red in the face, and Cedar wanted to know what image went through Elliott’s mind to have him look at him like that.

Elliott’s mind wandered too much on his walk home, and he hoped the powers that be would spare him from running into anyone given the predicament in his pants. How embarrassing that would be . He was lucky enough to arrive home without running into a soul. The second he closed the cabin door behind him, he sighed audibly, able to breathe easy now in the safe confines of his own home.

Cedar and Elliott both did something they weren’t necessarily proud of once alone in the shower. They thought of the same scenario to start with: The conversation they had just been through. Things kick off when they ask the other if they’d be interested in having help with relieving their sexual frustrations.

In Elliott’s scenario, he alludes to the idea, and imaginary Cedar asks a snarky follow up question before realizing Elliott is serious, and his face becomes that somewhat grumpy, reluctantly flustered look he does. Cedar winds up in his lap at the table. They kiss feverishly, before moving to the bedroom, and they simply grind through their clothes until Elliott reaches down to help Cedar finish. If Elliott wasn’t kissing the farmer, he was praising him for his beauty and encouraging sounds he imagined Cedar would try hard not to let go of.

In Cedar’s scenario, he asks his question, then waits no time in placing them in the bedroom. Elliott looms over Cedar on the bed, the farmer propped up on a forty five degree angle by some pillows as they make out, slow at some points and more desperately at others. They jerk eachother off slowly with occasional touches to the chest or thighs, before almost racing to the finish.

After Elliott gets out of the shower, he isn’t too sure of what to do with himself. He goes to stand on the pier for a bit, just taking in the sea breeze and the sound of the waves. The author ends up in a conversation with Willy about crabs for twenty minutes, before heading back into his cabin. Elliott sits at his desk, and rereads the kiss scene. He wondered if it was a realistic one, or if it was just the result of his wants and projecting.

...I’ll rewrite it in the future.

Cedar goes outside to smoke after his shower. He sits on the stairs and overlooks the farm for a long moment, finding comfort in the quiet. The cat comes to join him, sitting in the farmer’s lap. Cedar pets him for a few minutes, before laying back against the hard wood of the deck, one arm outstretched to keep the cig away from the cat, the other folded under his head as a pillow. Lasagna moves to sit on his chest, purring loudly, and looks down at his owner, blinking slowly.

“What am I going to do about my crush on this guy, Lasagna?”

The two hold eye contact for a few seconds, before the cat leans down to headbutt into Cedar’s jaw, and lay down half on the farmer’s neck, half on his chest. He curls himself into a content, happy little ball, and Cedar could feel the vibrations of the purring against his skin.

“That’s not a very good answer, but I understand.”

Chapter Text

SPIRIT’S EVE.

Another day, another reason to gather everyone in Pelican Town, and the Wizard was really doing it up this year.

“I hope he doesn’t make it too scary,” Abigail grumbled, waving her sword out in front of her like a metal detector. “He’s using the entire day to set up.”

“I have a good feeling,” Cedar chimed, adjacent to Abigail as they walked the train tracks.

“A good feeling for me, that it won’t be so bad? Or a good feeling that it will be super scary?” The girl leered at the other, who only pretended to zip his lips in response. “Which one?! Do you know what he’s doing?” The sword stopped swinging.

Cedar glanced at his friend before kicking a small rock off a wood plank. “I don’t have any more Spirit’s Eve informants than you do, I just feel like he’s going to add more spiders this year.”

“EEK!! WHY would you SAY that!? Cedar!” Abigail stopped walking, and began to swing the sword, seeming to guard against or attack invisible enemies. “Ugh, I can’t stand- I don’t want to see any- Dumb spiders!!” Abigail huffed with another thrust of her sword as the farmer watched from a few feet ahead of her. “I want to be able to get more than halfway through the maze this year! It’s not fair.” With one final, defeated swing, Abigail ended her rant with a sigh.

“It’s that big of a deal, huh?” Cedar asked with a raised brow, amused.

“Yeah, sorry,” Abigail began walking again. “I just really wish everybody would cut back with all the spider decor. It’s not fair to give spiders such a mean and spooky rep, and it’s not fair to me.”

Cedar walked in stride with Abigail. “Because you can never finish the maze.”

“ Exactly.” The woman held her sword directly in front of her, as if pointing toward her unattainable goal. After a few seconds, her arm fell to her side.

The two shared a laugh as they continued their small hike on the outskirts of Pelican Town. It was a change of scenery and pace that they always tried to make time for before and after winter, or during stressful times. It was nice to get things off their chests without risking someone overhearing. Small town gossip and nosey parents and all that.

“Why don’t you have Sebastian go with you tonight?” Cedar kicked another rock as they walked.

“So he can see me squeal like a pig when I inevitably bump into some humongous spider? Probably a whole three feet into the maze? I’d rather not embarrass myself like that. I’d never be able to live that down and I don’t think he’d let me forget it, either.” Abigail proclaimed. She lazily began to move the sword around like a metal detector again. “Having a crush can be such a hassle sometimes. I wouldn’t care if you saw me freak out because of a lame prop, but.. I don’t know, it’s like if I ‘mess up’, I’ve messed up forever , and I’ll always be like a loser or something in his eyes.”

Cedar’s head snapped to look at Abigail. “Whaaat? That’s definitely not how it works, or at least not how I think it’d work with him.”

“I know! That’s just how it feels. You know what I mean.” Abigail’s swing went a little too far to the side than Cedar felt comfortable with.

“Hey, gimme the sword, you almost took me out,” The man gestured for the weapon, staying in place.

“Sorry! My arms are getting tired, you should probably take it anyway, for both our sakes.” Abigail stopped walking, then handed the sword over, and Cedar made sure to hold it in the arm that was farthest away from his friend. Unlike her, he kept it safely at his side. “Anyway.. I don’t know, lately I’ve been weirder around him. It’s so hard to just be calm and be myself! I was fine. I don’t know what happened..” Purple locks were brushed behind her ear with a finger as she sighed. “This stupid crush is getting harder to keep down, but I can’t bring myself to tell him yet.”

Cedar looked at the tracks ahead. “I know what you mean.. I’m struggling right now.”

“Yeah, but you’re doing it to yourself,” Abigail snorted, literally waving Cedar’s sentence away, other hand resting on her bicep before loosely crossing her arms fully.

Cedar was quick to squint at the other. After a pause, he replied. “ So are you .”

“ No... Well, maybe a little, but... I’ve got all these dumb ‘young adult’ hurdles. My parents are the way they are, and you know what that means. I still live at home and so does he. And if it goes south, it could ruin our whole friendship threesome dynamic with Sam! The band!” Abigail counted on her fingers as she went. “Not to immediately go down the rabbit hole of the downsides of dating, sorry.” The purple-haired girl offered a sheepish smile, crossing her arms again. “I also don’t mean to make the conversation about me. What’s been up with you and Elliott?” The two exchanged a glance before returning to their trek through the forest.

Cedar sighed. “...Nothing?” He shrugged, then twirled the sword at his side. “At least, I guess, nothing super integral to the plot of my life. But I feel like there’s this tension now between us.”

Abigail perked a brow. “Good tension or bad tension. Oh -,” Abigail’s eyes lit up, “ or se-”

Cedar quickly and precisely lifted a finger to Abigail’s lips, causing the woman to emit a surprised squeak. “ Don’t, ” Was Cedar’s command, eyes locked on to the girl. He lowered his hand back to his side as his friend giggled to herself, her own hand moving to obscure her mouth from view. “Anyway, both, I guess. It sure feels like both, ever since he asked me to help him out with his book.” Cedar’s gaze turned calculating as he tried to get to the bottom of his feelings. “Actually, in the same sitting I got to see him fresh out of the shower in something other than a tie for the first time in my life.”

Abigail opened her mouth to comment, but Cedar was quick to add, “He was already completely dressed before you ask me anything.”

“Damn, you’re good,” The woman scoffed. “So, that’s it!? You saw him in sweatpants one time or something and you’ve lost your mind?”

“ Actually, he was in a t-shirt…” Wait, was he wearing sweatpants? “A t-shirt, and..” Cedar’s cheeks turned pink at the memory, fishing through all the sparkles, and inappropriate thoughts he’s had about the scene since, attempting to find the answer.

Was it still jeans?...

“Aghh, I can’t even remember what pants he had on because I was so distracted by the damn shirt change!”

Abigail giggled. “Wow, so it really was all downhill from there? That’s hilarious… -ly embarrassing. But relatable.” She gave Cedar a pat on the back.

“ Thanks, I think.” The man rolled his eyes while Abigail eyed him. He stabbed the sword into the ground. “What is it?”

“It’s just funny! He gave you one surprise and now you’re hooked! I didn’t know you were that, what’s the word… Not easy , but.. Easy? ” Abigail shrugged with an awkward smile. 

“Well, in my defense , it’s usually not that easy … Ugh, I don’t know” Cedar’s arms fell limply to his sides as he faced the path ahead. The tracks stretched on and on through the small hills and trees. He could stay on this track for hours if he had the time, but it was Spirit’s Eve, and Abigail’s parents expected her back by sundown. They hated when she was out on the track in the middle of nowhere after dark, and as much as Cedar valued his friend’s freedom, he agreed that it wasn’t the safest play.

Cedar looked at Abigail again as he spoke. “Actually, If I remember correctly, I found him attractive since I got here, but a combination of being new, assuming he was straight and that him and Leah had a thing going on led me to just..” The man shrugged. “Also, I was totally not ready for a relationship of any kind for the first, like, two years straight. Needed that alone time,” the farmer made an overarching gesture with his hands punctuated with finger guns.

“That makes sense. But what’s getting in your way right now? What’s got you looking so tired with this?”

“A lot of manual labor-”

“Of the BOY, Cedar! What’s getting in the way of you and that man making out or something right now !?”

“Okay, okay.” The man crossed his arms. “What if I’m imagining the chemistry, and he’s just that awkward or nice with his friends? I’m no psychotherapist or whatever, but he's pretty eccentric to begin with, so him being .. the way I perceive him to be sometimes makes sense. Or, maybe it’s just been awhile, I don’t want to accidentally use the guy. And he’s going to definitely get tired of-”

“SPECULATION!!!” Cedar flinched, eyes wide at the sudden outburst. His friend had pulled the sword from the ground as emphasis and continued on, making vague gestures with hand and sword . "You're just assuming he'll get tired of something because of your, like, mysterious past or whatever you like to call it. You're not a bad person and I don't think you'd plow over his feelings and accidentally use him. And yeah, he might just be that awkward, or he might be like that around you because he might like you!" Abigail pointed her sword at Cedar's chest. "You're self sufficient and have your own house, your own truck, your own time that you plan out for what you want. And Elliott is also an adult with all this time and nothing holding him back either, probably! Elliott lives in a cabin on the beach, do you think he even pays rent?”

Cedar slowly squinted, “ That’s a good question actual-”

“That’s not the point! My point is that you two are adults. Doing way more adult things and living much more adult lives than us with the freedom that comes with it. You don’t have parents looking at all your choices under a microscope right now, or a dad that’ll act allergic to your crush’s motorcycle exhaust from thirty yards downwind.” Abigail was scowling by this point, and though Cedar had a few things to say, he knew better than to comment right now.

The girl sighed, lowering the sword, before pointing at Cedar with her finger the second he seemed to relax. “My point is, you’re making this more complicated than it has to be! If you like him and he’s available, just go for it! Everything holding you back is self imposed! Or it's all pure speculation! Even more so than mine with Sebastian. At least all my worrying makes sense.” Cedar made a face, so Abigail elaborated. “I have to worry about my parents and messing up a whole friend group, and that this is the one guy I want in the whole town ! But you don’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks about you, and none of it would change with you getting in any sort of relationship with Elliott, it would just affect you two, if that makes sense. I don't mean to say that your worrying is dumb or something, I just mean you're free of, like.. physical things holding you back or getting in your way, and there would be way less collateral damage or something.”

Cedar absorbed what Abigail said and waited a few seconds before speaking. “...Yeah. I mean-”

“Deflecting!”

“I didn’t even say anything yet!”

Abigail laughed, twirling the sword to one side. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Look,” She held the sword in a safe position as she looked up at the other, giving his chest a little pat with her free hand. Cedar sighed silently, then looked down toward his friend. Arguably, his best friend, as she spoke. “I’m doing my best to use all the fancy words I’ve heard you say when you’ve given me advice. But at the same time, you're smart, I can't imagine you haven't thought about any of the stuff I just said. I really do think you’re kinda.. getting in your own way with this one?” Abigail’s eyes held Cedar’s gaze, and she waited for a sign to see if he agreed. It didn’t take long before he caved and looked away at a random flower.

“I know.. It’s weird when there’s no problems. I feel like it’s all a mirage or something. It should be and feel really easy like you said, clearly we both can make the time and this doesn’t have to be some huge consequential thing, but it feels like it will be.”


Abigail stared at Cedar for a moment, stepping back a foot before she looked away, searching for her next words. “Well,” she paused, “Maybe you’re thinking too big too fast?” Her eyes landed back on the farmer. “In the vein of Adult Freedoms, you guys can just, like.. Smooch a single time on your porch and then call it a day. But are you putting things off because you actually want to date him?”

Cedar stared at his friend, brows knit together in a scowl that wasn’t for her. The man went from unmoving like a statue for a solid 10 seconds, to the worry of his friend, to turning pink, to suddenly throwing his arms in the air with a huffed, “ I GUESS?”  

Abigail covered her mouth. She didn’t want to blatantly laugh in her struggling friend’s face, but she couldn’t deny that he was funny to watch.

Cedar shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, and leaned his head back with an unnecessarily long groan, and Abigail snickered to herself.

Cedar straightened himself when Abigail finished her giggling, looked at her, then spoke quietly. “..I don’t like not knowing what will happen.”

The two were silent for a few seconds. Abigail’s eyes softened, and Cedar only dropped his gaze from her’s when she pulled him in for a tight hug, dropping the sword anticlimactically to do so. Two seconds passed before Cedar brought his arms up to embrace Abigail, and he rested his chin on top of her head. “Are you trying to make me cry or something? On Spirit’s Eve, too, huh?”

“Oh, shut up, Cedar, I know you like it when I hug you.” Abigail loosened her grip around the man, but didn’t let go.

“Can we just say my hot, sexy, and mysterious past will simply not let me date Elliott yet? Like, for the plot, you know. All this introspection is really ruining the chill and unbothered vibes I try to keep.”

“You can word it however you want, but I think you need to at least confirm if he likes you back. And then you can go from there, like, one step at a time, y’know? Something good might come out of it.” Abigail stood quietly for a moment, waiting for a reply from Cedar as she enjoyed his warmth. The sun was setting, and it was starting to get a little colder. The breeze was picking up a bit, and was beginning to easily cut through her thin jacket.

“Pretty sure I’ll figure it out soon, whether I want to or not.” Cedar chuckled to himself, and after a moment, was the first to let go. Abigail was quick to follow suit, and even quicker to fold her arms and declare that she was cold. Cedar bent over and grabbed the sword from the ground. “The sun’s setting, let’s turn back before we have to craft a hut and hunt for our dinner,” Cedar said, surveying the orange sky.

“Right, because we’re just sooo far from civilization.” Abigail rolled her eyes, giggling.

The two turned back, and followed the train tracks back to Pelican Town. Around the halfway mark, a train went by and the two had to jump into the grass. A few Cedar Certified Cool Rocks fell off the train, and the farmer stuffed them into his pocket, including one that Abigail wanted Clint to check out.

“I hope one’s an Amethyst,” Abigail grinned.

Cedar smirked, “I hope one magically solves all my problems.”

“Problems that you can easily solve,”  the woman added with a prod to Cedar’s side.

“I would rather a cool rock do it for me.”

—--

The two made it back to Pelican Town just in time for Abigail to avoid a scolding from Pierre, though the two wondered if it was due in part to her being dropped off by the guy that never tells her father ‘No’ when he needs a favor.

And then Cedar helped Pierre move several boxes and set up his Spirit’s Eve stand. Abigail thanked him and apologized profusely when Cedar was finally heading out the door. They said their goodbyes and promised to meet up in a bit during the festivities, and Pierre made a comment about how, “That’s the kind of boy I want my daughter to date!”

Abigail called her father gross, and then ran off to her room.

When Cedar arrived back at the farm, he was greeted by his black cat and plenty of room on the front deck to unceremoniously, and purposefully, drop his pocket rocks everywhere. Lasagna wasn’t ready for the sudden noise and puffed up. Once the farmer was sure he got all the rocks out of his pockets, he bent down and brushed the cat’s fur back down with his hand. “Sorry about that, bud.”

The farmer rearranged the rocks somewhat neatly to the left of the front door. It’s too late to bring these by Clint’s, so that’s something for tomorrow.

Lasagna made sure to headbutt and press against Cedar the entire time he was crouched down, on a mission to convey how much he missed his owner. When Cedar was satisfied with the new collection, he twisted around just enough to pick up the cat in question. It was past dinner time for them both.

—--

"Alright, Lasagna!" Cedar yelled as he opened the front door. He swirled around to point at the feline on the sofa in the same moment a finger pulled off his hair tie, and his green hair fell half-hazardly about his shoulders. "I'm going out! Be good, don't puke on everything I love, Leah's sculpture is not a scratching post and you're not allowed to have any friends over while I'm gone, love you, bye!" 

The cat slowly blinked as the farmer closed the door, then nuzzled its head back into the cushions in hopes of falling back asleep. 

Cedar made his way halfway down his front steps before pausing and digging his cigarettes and lighter out of his pockets.

Contrary to his previous actions, the man thought to himself: I wish I was asleep for nine days. But it wasn’t every day that the whole town assembled for a good time, even though that's what the Stardrop kinda felt like on the weekend, so Cedar would rather not miss out. 

The cigarette was lit, and Cedar looked up at the stars. Having not turned on the porch light, he had a perfect view of the scene. After a few moths and a questionable shooting star, Cedar put the cig out in the ashtray on the step.

Alright, time to get this show on the road.

—---

“Cedar! Come eat with us?” Leah waved as the farmer finally walked by her table. Elliott sat beside the woman on the opposite side of Cedar, and perked up and turned at the mention of the man’s name.

Cedar stopped in his tracks, glancing around as he spoke. “Hey guys. Ah, sorry but I’m not hungry yet, I couldn’t hold off and ate a bit ago.” He bent down and lifted the tablecloth, doing a quick scan before standing up. “Have you guys seen the kids? I’m really bombing this game of hide and seek right now.”

“The children are beating you at hide and seek?” Elliott questioned with a grin, “A bit embarrassing for a man of your caliber, my friend.”

Leah giggled. “Don’t tease him, it’s dark, they must be so hard to keep track of! And Jaz and Vincent would run circles around you.” She poked Elliott’s shoulder for emphasis. The writer scoffed, and looked to Cedar for support. The farmer only pointed and laughed at him like a middle school bully.

“Sadly, we haven’t seen them. They must be really determined. That or they got bored of you and went home.” The woman gave a toothy, squinty-eyed grin. “How did you get wrapped up in babysitting anyway?”

“I kind of volunteered. They were hounding Sam to play with them but he looked like he just wanted a break and to talk to Sebastian. I’m waiting for Abigail to either scream for help or get through the maze, so I volunteered to play with the kids.”

“How nice! I’m sure Sam must appreciate the alone time, I know I would.” Leah nodded to herself.

Elliott leaned backwards a few inches to have a better view while talking to the farmer. “I hope you find them soon. Wouldn’t be good if they slipped past you and are dancing around with those skeleton things! You’ll land yourself and Sam in a whole world of trouble,” the writer smiled, before catching sight of one of the kids in question.

Leah and Cedar continued with some light banter and Elliott glanced between Cedar and Vincent. The boy was peering from behind the Stardrop Saloon, and would occasionally look behind himself and speak to someone else. As the writer began to wonder where Jas was, her head suddenly appeared, and the two children stared in their direction. Before Elliott could open his mouth to alert his friends, Vincent brought a finger up to his mouth in a sign for the man to be quiet.

Elliott nodded.

“See, Elliott agrees with me,” the farmer said, a sly grin on his face as he tucked a green lock of hair behind his ear, and placed his hand on his hip.

“What?” Leah turned to look at the confused author. “There’s no way, you boys are too much,” the woman waved.

“Wait, what’s too much? I a-agreed to what! ?” Elliott sputtered, looking between the two for any hint of context.

“Don’t tell him, I want the mystery to keep him awake at night.” Cedar smiled as if he had wished Elliott the opposite of misery. Leah was quick to agree as Elliott gasped.

Elliott was about to protest, but a sudden, “ SNEAK ATTACK!!! ” sounded from the other side of the farmer, and Vincent ran toward the man in question with a short stick. Jas looked terrified in the background as the three all looked in their direction.

Leah and Elliott watched as Cedar turned and grabbed Vincent once he was close enough, barely managing what could have been a horrible, pretend, mortal wound. The young boy was hauled into the air, dropping the stick ‘sword’ in surprise.

“No fair! How did you catch me!?” The boy waved his arms around.

“It’s not sneaky if you yell so loudly!” Jas replied, scurrying over between the three adults. She looked between everyone as she spoke, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop him!” She looked up at her friend as Cedar continued to effortlessly hold him in the air. “You’re going to get us in trouble!! What if someone heard you and now we have to go to bed?”

Leah and Elliott shared a look, and then the artist giggled at the scene. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell.” Elliott nodded in agreement, then looked past Leah and Jas to the farmer. Cedar continued to hold Vincent in the air as if he was only a toddler, and the boy continued his struggle.

“None of that explains why he’s so fast!” Vincent waved. “How can I be as fast as you? And why are you so strong??”

“I’m a level One-THOUSAND adventurer, you could never beat me.” Vincent gasped as Cedar grinned mischievously. It looked as though Cedar was going to put the boy down, when a sudden, embarrassingly high pitched shriek came from the direction of the maze.

“Who was that?” Elliott and Leah asked in tandem, while Vincent proclaimed how he wanted to be a level one-thousand adventurer, too.

“ That,” Cedar spoke calmly as he tucked Vincent under his arm to the amusement of the child, “Is my signal to go bust Abigail out of the spooky wizard maze.” Cedar adjusted his grip on Vincent, only holding the child with one arm. He then gestured for Jas to come toward him. “Alright kids, I’ve gotta pass you back to Sam before Abigail passes out and I have to carry her around.”

Jas jumped up and down, “Wait, I want to be carried, too!”

“And my sword is still on the floor!”

“Can I sit on your shoulders?”

“Oh, and how long did it take you to become a level one-thousand adventurer, are you lying?”

“Vincent, wait! I want to know if I can be carried!”

Cedar slowly inhaled as his two friends snickered at their table. Elliott grinned, “You’re in high demand.” Leah followed by asking Cedar if he could carry both children.

Cedar quickly snapped the fingers on his free hand, pointed a single finger gun at the author, and said, “Always,” with a wink. It was a lot for Elliott to take in in the span of a literal two seconds, and he wouldn’t be able to process it all until after the farmer left. “And to answer your second question, of course .” Cedar crouched down with a quick, “C’mon,” at Jas, and the little girl happily climbed onto the man’s shoulders.

“Aw yeah, my sword!” Vincent proclaimed, low enough to the ground that he was able to reach the stick. He picked it up, and held it up into the air with a serious look on his face, trying to power pose even though he was basically glued to Cedar’s side.

“Okay, I’m ready!” Jas beamed. She loosened her grip to give a little wave to Elliott and Leah after Cedar stood up, followed by a quiet, “Goodnight!” Leah and Elliott returned the gesture, the artist looking at Jas while the author was more fixated on the farmer.

“I’ll see you guys later! And if not, probably tomorrow.” Cedar looked down at Vincent, who was pretending to cast spells on the two at the table. “Say goodnight, this train is about to leave the station.”

“Will I be able to cast real spells if I became a level one-thousand adventurer?”

Cedar looked back to his friends, view half skewed by Jas messing with his hair. The farmer repeated himself, “I’ll see you later.” He flashed a quick smile, then turned and began his trek to destroy whatever peace Sam had managed to find in his absence. Elliott and Leah were able to hear a good amount of conversation between Cedar and Vincent as they faded into the depths of the town.

“But for real, if what you’re saying is true, when did you become that high level adventuring?”

“Years ago, here in the mines. It was before you were even born .”

“I thought you moved here after I was born!” Vincent tried to turn in Cedar’s arm to look up at his face.

“It was so many years ago, I can barely remember. I’ve been powerful for too long.”

“How many years ago? Do I have to do math? I’m still learning my numbers.”

Jas chimed in, adding, “I think you have to figure out his age, and then do subtraction?” She peered over Cedar’s shoulder’s to catch a glimpse of Vincent.

Vincent hummed, facing forward as he tried to recall a number that would fit for the farmer. “What are you? Like, forty?”

Cedar was glad he wasn’t drinking something, because he would have spit it out all over the place. “Oh my god, I am not forty. You need to bring that down to the mid twenties before this conversation can go anywhere else.”

“ I told you , I’m still learning my numbers!”

Leah and Elliott weren’t able to hear the rest of the conversation, but they sure were able to laugh about their version of the ending.

“I’m glad I didn’t turn away after they left, I would have missed that,” Leah giggled, finally getting to look back down to her meal. She poked at the potatoes on her plate for a few seconds, and when the silence between her and Elliott continued, she looked at the man. “What’s up?” The author’s eyes stayed fixated on the direction Cedar and the kids disappeared in, his arms folded and rested on the table in front of his plate. “Elliott? Hellooo in there,” Leah waved her fork to get the man’s attention.

Elliott finally looked the woman in her eyes, and he made no attempt to mask how defeated he felt as he pushed his plate away. He spoke the artist’s name in a low tone.

“Yes? What’s wrong, are you nauseous or something?” She leaned closer to her friend, putting her fork down and resting her hand on his arm.

Elliott’s head dropped to the table.

“ I have never been so infatuated with another man in my entire life. ”

Chapter Text

I winked at him, just like that, and then walked away. And he made that face…

Cedar reminisced on the past week’s events from the comfort of a pile of leaves in the middle of his property. He didn’t like to rake too much, it was better for the small local fauna, and the environment in general. But Lasagna liked jumping around in the leaves, so Cedar made one single pile for the cat. It was promptly ignored, and Lasagna elected to try to stir up the thin coating of leaves everywhere else. Having nothing better to do with his time, Cedar sat in the leaf pile, where he had remained for an hour so far, watching the blanket of clouds above.

You can’t just stare at your single, bisexual, touch-starved friends like that, Elliott!

Cedar shut his eyes with a scowl.

They’re going to think you have a crush on them, and it’s going to make their crush on you worsen! And then they’re going to be in the shower too long, and wake up late, and give you a dumb rock, apparently…

The farmer groaned, hand coming up to cover his face.

I can’t believe I told him I gave it to him because it reminded me of his eyes. All or nothing, huh, Cedar? You wink at a man once and then you’re giving him precious stones, and then inviting him out for drinks the day after that. You gonna propose tonight, too?

Still having some time to spare before his meet-up with Elliott, Cedar rolled over. Multiple leaves clung to his loose hair. He folded his arms to rest his head, getting comfortable on his stomach. One of the chickens gravitated toward the farmer, turning it’s head in multiple directions as it surveyed the scene. Cedar closed his eyes and sighed.

Agh, I’m beating myself for no reason… Stupid attractive romance novelist with nice hair. All patient and quirky and living on a beach not paying rent, probably.. Who might be keeping the dumb rock I gave him on his desk so he can look at it while he works..? On the novel with a character I could easily cosplay… Elliott, blink twice if I inspired the hot cop..

Cedar dozed off.

—---

Elliott grumbled at himself. He had all the key story beats except for one. How the two main characters make their feelings undeniably clear to each other. A kiss under gunfire, a fight that leads to a heart-to-heart. Whatever it was, Elliott was sabotaged by himself.

It was his own fault for making Hudson’s looks so much like Cedar’s. Of course, there was no picture of the detective in existence, and the description of the character left much to the imagination. But Elliott knew his true form. Just Cedar with a color change and a few master degrees under his belt. This picture would easily be replaced by images of the farmer in question. They floated around in his brain, and sadly, the author couldn’t just leave that on his desk and walk away.

Elliott continued to pace around his cabin.

At first, the similarities were a blessing for easy writing! Now, for this “confession scene”, they were an unbreakable curse. All attempts at powering through were met with mixed feelings. The author was left flustered, or felt like he was violating the farmer even though he was safe on the other side of town. Maybe a breach of trust in some way. At the least, it was nerve wracking. He had never used a real person, let alone one he personally knew, as his muse before, and so heavily.

How do some writers do this all the time? Should I feel this bad? I’m not writing anything provocative… I wish I could just tell him so I could get it off my chest! Maybe I’ll scratch the kiss scene, leave their feelings heavily implied but open-ended..

As Elliott sat down at his desk, and paused. He checked his watch…

I'M GOING TO BE LATE!?

The author took a deep breath. He was all over the place. He felt like a teen getting ready for their first ever date, with the coolest guy in school no less. Or something equally stressful and embarrassing. He tried to think about his novel for a moment to take his mind off of tonight’s not-date, and clearly, that decision went poorly.

I’m practically thirty. A date, let alone a meeting that was not specified to be a date, should be no issue!

Elliott sat back in his desk chair. He managed to feel giddy and energized, yet apprehensive. The writer’s eyes wandered to the new emerald on his desk, a gift he had received in the mail two days prior. A gift from the farmer who he had too many awkward moments with as of late for it to be a coincidence. He was almost sure of it.

I need to find out for sure. I could simply ask him, but that’s not very romantic.. I could try something at the bar tonight, but in front of others? No.. I could take him out on my boat!

Elliott’s eyes widened slightly at the realization, before he shook his head.

No, no. Both that and the crowded saloon scene feel too ‘on the spot’ for Cedar. I wouldn’t want him to feel pressure of any kind, whether or not he reciprocates my feelings. And he’s more private than I am, I shouldn’t make any gestures in public without his knowledge and consent… A quiet night in, maybe..

The author sighed.

I should focus on tonight before I draw up future plans.. Ugh, Leah’s advice is going to drive me mad!

The advice in question was simple, so simple that Elliott couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it once. He had sought out the artist two days ago after receiving the emerald, and had been haunted by her since. “Try thinking of all this as if you were reading it in a book! Or writing it yourself. What do you think the character’s intentions are? What do his reactions convey?”


They’re starting to convey everything I’ve been wanting them to. Let’s see how her advice pans out tonight with fresh examples in real time.

Elliott took a deep breath, and checked himself in a mirror quickly before heading out. The writer had paid extra attention to his appearance today. The only thing that really stood out was his heavier brown winter coat, lined with gray fleece. That, and perhaps a slightly stronger cologne than usual..

—-

“You have too many eggs,” Elliott prodded, getting so close to Cedar that the author’s sun hat poked the farmer’s forehead. “A borderline unreasonable amount of eggs.”

“But they’re my eggs. I woke up to them, so they’re mine. Look,” Cedar held out a small basket, “They’re in my basket. They’re even labeled.” He pointed to his faded teal shirt, the word ‘MINE’ with an egg picture below it was plain as day on his chest.

Elliott tugged at his own red and white Hawaiian shirt. “I literally don’t even care.” The author suddenly had a basket of his own, two of Cedar’s eggs now inside.

Cedar looked down at his basket. Even though Elliott only took two eggs, there was a disproportionate amount of room in his basket now.

“Cedar.”

The farmer faced the other. “I’m used to eggs, you know. I know a lot about them! I’ve been dealing with eggs my whole life, and i don’t think you know-”

“Cedar,” Elliott poked at Cedar’s shoulder as a sea of chickens washed in from the beach. “I don’t mind.” the author said, also not minding the chickens at all, even when they started to chaotically fly around the two like they were whipped up by an invisible tornado.

“Cedar-”

The farmer jolted awake, suddenly turning onto his back and sending Pinto flying off of him. The other four hens scattered, seemingly performing evasive maneuvers as they clucked and squawked away. Seeing no one in front of him as he sat up, Cedar laid back down. He dragged a hand down his face as he waited for his heartbeat to settle.

“Sorry to scare you,” a low, quiet voice came from behind the farmer.

Cedar tilted his head back, one eye peeking through his fingers. “El-” The man rolled over as fast as he could, and leaves burst out in every direction, “Elliott!”

Elliott couldn’t help but grin almost ear to ear, finding the farmer akin to an excited dog. “Yes, hello, happy to see you’re still with us.” He watched Cedar check his watch. “Your chickens surrounded you like vultures. How long were you asleep?”

“That explains the .. really weird dream I just had,” Cedar staggered to his feet, promptly addressing all the leaves stuck to his light blue jacket, the black hoodie underneath, and his hair. Mostly his hair. “I think I was only out for a half hour or so… Did you just get here?” The farmer winced, a few strands of hair were caught on one of his earrings.

Elliott nodded, then stepped a little closer, raising a hand in a ‘May I?’ gesture that the farmer quickly consented to via a nod. Cedar stopped trying to get the leaves in the back of his hair and focused on the earring issue. Elliott carefully started isolating a leaf by Cedar’s shoulder, removing a few strands at a time. He gradually ended up standing behind the other. “What was your dream about?”

“Honestly,” Cedar began, removing the earring back and deciding to take the thing out completely for a moment, “You were in it. Maybe because you were trying to wake me up…” He was careful not to drop the earring as he did his best to slip it out of the knot. “I mostly just remember you trying to steal eggs? Or borrow eggs..? I’m already losing it to be honest, I mostly remember feeling robbed,” Cedar chuckled, freeing his earring. “That, and a lot of chicken noises.”

“Ahh, they were getting very territorial with me right before you woke up.” Elliott lightly tugged a few more leaves from Cedar’s hair, some of it pooling in his hood or haphazardly over a shoulder.

The farmer tilted his head to the side as he tried to hook his jewelry through the shell of his right  ear. The action exposed a small, broken piece of a leaf hiding in Cedar’s hair, along with a good portion of skin. Elliott innocently reached for the leaf. The sudden brush of a finger against his neck caused Cedar to flinch, and Elliot recoiled. “..Sorry, last one.” Elliott removed the bit of leaf. He then promptly gave Cedar some space.

“You’re fine.” Cedar chimed as he checked his other earrings. Two at the top of the right ear were now good, the stud in each lobe, good.

“Alright!..” Cedar huffed, putting his hands on his hips. He glanced back at Elliott, who stared at him with a soft and patient smile. One of the chickens scurried nearby, coming to a stop a few feet from Cedar. He looked down and stared at her for a moment.

“...Back inside!” Cedar waved his arms, startling Elliott and the chicken, and causing her and the others in the distance to run again. “Everybody back inside! Why are you even out here!?” The farmer jogged about, corralling the chickens into their coop. Elliott looked on with a squinty eyed grin and occasional laughter.

—---

“He comes and goes as he pleases, sometimes we sit together to watch TV.” Cedar shrugged, stirring his drink with its straw. “He pays no rent and sometimes screams at me at 3am because I won’t acknowledge a dead bird he brought into my house. And then he’ll just disappear again. Baffling, I tell you.” Cedar sighed, feigning sadness. “So lonely in my own home.”

Elliott snickered. “The way you talk about your cat is hilarious. I can’t believe he would treat you in such a way…How ungrateful .” The author sneered then smiled. “You deserve better company. Someone who respects you.”

Emily called out in the background, asking the room, “ Who left this beer mug on the pool table!? ” Cedar watched as Sebastian and Sam shrugged, explaining how they just got back from the bathroom. Chuckling to himself, the farmer’s gaze landed back on Elliott.

“Maybe I’ll put out an ad for a nice dog ,” Cedar smiled mischievously, narrowing his eyes. “A loyal, big boy, who won’t leave my side.”

Elliott laughed, reaching for his drink. “What’s with that wording?” He paused his arm before the drink could reach his lips as a glass shattered in the distance.

“ Oops, ” Gus exclaimed from behind the bar, “ I got it! ”

Elliott took a few gulps, finishing off his drink, and setting the glass down on the table. “I think he’ll know you’re bluffing.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand with his elbow on the table, other arm draped across it as well.

“Hm?” Cedar hummed in a questioning tone, a little lost in all the noise and the few drinks he had. He looked at Elliott in a slight daze before smirking. “What?”

“Bluffing that you’d get a dog. You’ve told me that you don’t like some of the.. Typical behaviors associated with them?” Elliott looked off to the side, wondering if he worded his sentence properly. “I don’t know how to explain it right now, I just know you don’t have one for a reason.”

“Ah,” Cedar went back to idly stirring his drink, even though there wasn’t much left to stir. “Yeah, I like that they’re loyal and love everyone and everything when they’re raised well. It’s nice.” He paused, stopping his stirring to actually finish off his drink. Cedar placed the empty glass by the end of the table, then crossed his arms and rested his elbows on the table, sitting forward. The two friends’ faces were now only about a foot apart.

“But.. How do I say this..” Cedar’s eyes fell to the table. “I think I prefer cats because they aren’t usually… clingy ? Either of us can just walk in or out or anytime and when I want to be alone, I can be, and cats for the most part take care of themselves. Especially one that can go out and hunt for food whenever it wants… I still feed him, of course! Just incase he didn’t catch anything outside, and y’know, being a responsible pet owner. I don't know. Maybe its because they're small and easier to hold or lay with? I'd literally suffocate and die if the average dog laid on my chest or face when I went to sleep.” The farmer looked to Elliott, who seemed to stare blankly. “Ah, sorry! I’m rambling . We’ve talked about how I feel about cats before.” Cedar smiled, feeling a bit awkward.

“..What? No, no! You’re fine,” Elliott waved, snapping out of his daze as he sat up straighter. “I could listen to you all day! I just got distracted by-” The writer caught himself as it seemed the universe was trying to save him, and another loud noise happened in the background.

I almost blurted out that I was barely listening because I was staring at his eyelashes and freckles! Elliott swallowed, thankful his face must have been red already from laughing and alcohol.

Cedar laughed quietly to himself. “This small town dinner rush is no joke tonight, huh?”

Elliot blinked, eyes practically glistening at the other’s display of patience. “...Right! Maybe..” Elliott’s tone shifted as he tugged at the collar of his shirt, then ran his hand through his hair. “..Do you want to continue this conversation somewhere where we can actually hear each other? We already paid awhile ago, so there’s nothing stopping us.” He smiled meekly.


Cedar nodded, laying both hands flat on the table as he stood, pushing himself up. “ Gladly.”

The two stepped out of the Saloon, both stopping to breathe a sigh of relief as the music and noise faded to a bearable level. Cedar looked to Elliott. “What’s your plan for the rest of the night? More novel stuff? Sleep?”

Elliott zipped up his coat and adjusted his hood, wishing he was in a blanket’s worth of the fleece as his fingers brushed against it. “I’m not too sure. I think the quality of my work would take a dive if I tried to add to it right now.. But I can’t go back inside this place. It has me so tired yet high-strung from all the noise.” The man put his hands in his jacket pockets, and turned to face Cedar. “Maybe walking you home will help me unwind?”

Cedar pulled out his pack of cigarettes, smirking. “You can just say you’ll miss me, you don’t have to go through all this.” He flipped the carton open, taking out one of the two remaining cigs and his lighter. “But I’d like the company.”

The writer smiled. "Any time… Although," Elliott raised a brow with a growing grin, " You don't have to play so.. not hard to get. S o hard to be nice to, I should say." 

Cedar placed the cigarette between his lips as Elliot spoke, then shielded the tip of it from the breeze as he lit it. He mumbled his reply around the cig as his lighter clicked, and the small ember rose from it. "Would you believe I have had an interest in acting this whole time? It's the real reason I moved here, you know.." The farmer took a quick drag on the cigarette, then started walking away from the Saloon at a leisurely pace. Cedar blew the smoke toward the sky. "I've been training for my role in Some Guy's 'The Best Neighbor' movie all these years."

After a pause, Elliott followed after the farmer, grinning ear to ear, pretending to be entranced. " Really? Director Some Guy? This whole time? I'm in shock."

"Yes, yes, just like I knew you would be," Cedar chimed, glancing over his shoulder at the other man. When Elliott caught up to him, he continued, keeping eye contact as they walked. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I can only hope this doesn't change literally everything between us. That would really sour my mood, and right before my big shot, you know?"

The author nodded. "Yes, of course. Don't worry, I'm only a manageable amount of completely betrayed." Elliot ran a hand through his hair, brushing one side of it behind his ear so Cedar could see his face better as he walked a little closer to the farmer to whisper. " But this works out, I assure you ." 

Oh, we are totally flirting, Cedar thought.

Something about the last two seconds did something in Cedar's brain. It could have been the glow of Elliott's hair below the moon and street lights. The closeness. The whispering. Or maybe, it was all in tandem with the line the writer said. A simple culmination of things crashing into Cedar like a wave that caused his cheeks to burn suddenly. Before he could process how to react, a quiet, bashful laugh escaped him, and he looked ahead at the road. "Why might that be?" He tapped the ash off his cig.

Elliot's eyes narrowed yet remained playful. Have I flustered him, the author wondered. It's cute. 

"I've been trying to get Mr.Some Guy's attention for months. It's not every day that an author can score a movie deal. " Elliot held a sly smile, remaining close to Cedar for only a second longer for effect. He stood upright, and adjusted his jacket.

Cedar laughed, waving his free hand at Elliott. "Okay, okay, you win! I can't keep up with this scene anymore."

"Then hand over Mr.Some Guy's card, because I'll keep the scene going until he signs me on." 

The farmer took a drag of his cigarette and looked sideways up at Elliot as the street lights began to fade out behind them. Smoke seeped from his mouth as he spoke with a slanted smile, deciding to play along a bit longer. "You wanna get out of here that bad? You'd destroy my acting career and leave me here to become a big shot with his own movie? Just like that?"

Elliott huffed a laugh before replying. "Yes, how else will I be able to continue to afford living in a cabin on the ocean?"

Cedar scoffed, " Oh , I am convinced you will be fine. " He held the cigarette a centimeter from his lips for theatrics more than anything, and mumbled, "I still don't think you pay rent for that thing."

Elliott blinked down at the other, eyes still adjusting to the lack of light as they went down the gravel road that led to the farm. "What? Still?" Elliott chuckled to himself, looking away from the farmer momentarily. Cedar faced ahead as well, lowering the cigarette to his side as they walked. "Okay, maybe we can take the deal together, then?" Elliott crossed his arms, seemingly having a stroke of genius. "Yeah, maybe that's it! I get the movie deal, y ou can be an extra or something , we both get our big break. It's perfect! Ah , yes . There I go," Elliott nodded, "Intelligent as ever, I must say."


Cedar looked up at Elliott, feigning disgust with his brows knit just a bit closer together than usual. "A side character? An extra? An NPC? That's what you give me after years of friendship? All those pomegranates I brought you? That cool rock?" The farmer's expression turned somber as he spoke. 

Elliott blinked. " You're really good at that, " he muttered, before clearing his throat. "I mean, it's the most I could do, actually. You don't just get cast as a lead right out the gate, you have to prove yourself first." 

Cedar looked straight ahead. He took a long, calm and cool drag on the cig as he tilted his head down slightly, as if deep in thought. Some of his hair slipped from behind his ear and into his face. Elliott slowly lowered his arms, moving his hands back into his coat pockets, and waited for Cedar to continue. This was a really dramatic pause. Maybe the farmer really did have a future in acting if he played his cards right. 

After another few seconds, Cedar blew the smoke from his lungs and slowly turned to face Elliott with his familiar Cheshire grin. "You fool.. How naive can you be?" The farmer spoke a low tone in such a way that Elliott felt like he was actually talking to someone in the yakuza. Cedar rushed a few feet ahead, walking backwards as he faced Elliott, and held his arms out wide. "Who's going to stop me from playing the hot cop!?"

Before Elliott could fully process what was happening, Cedar pointed directly at him with his free hand. The farmer's porch light in the distance faintly outlined Cedar's silhouette. "It would be detrimental to your movie to cast anyone but yours truly." Cedar dropped his hand to his side, the other bringing his cigarette to his lips as the grin continued. His eyebrows raised in a mischievous manner, waiting for Elliott to make his next move in whatever game they were playing. 

"Okay, okay! I concede!" The author put his hands up with a defeated smile and hearty chuckle. "You win, you can play 'the hot cop' in Some Guy's movie. It only makes sense since you ins- since you intend on tripping over yourself!" Cedar took a long pull on the cig. Elliott continued to speak, doing his best to mask his mistake."I'll concede so you turn around and watch where you're going! You wouldn't want to take a nasty tumble so close to home, would you?"  

"Don't threaten me, Elliott." Cedar joked. As he almost tripped, he decided to turn around and walk beside the author like nothing happened. "I'd be a great Hudson, and you know it."

Elliott sighed in silent relief. Cedar was just drunk enough to not notice the partial slip up. "You'd be a fantastic Hudson, yes. Clearly, I've been delusional in this entire section of the conversation. I hope you accept my humble apology." The author bowed slightly as the two finally came to the edge of the darkness, and into the glow of the farmhouse porch light.

The farmer nodded along as Elliott spoke, and stopped walking once directly in front of the steps. He turned to face the author. "Hmmm, maybe.. I can consider it. But only after a few questions." Cedar pointed the cigarette at Elliott as he came to a stop a foot and a half away from where the farmer stood. " If you can handle them."

Elliot smirked. "There have been so many twists in this conversation, what is a few more?" He crossed his arms, and leaned forward slightly for emphasis, causing Cedar to pull the cigarette back toward his side. The farmer made an expression that the author couldn't quite place, but the other man's face looked devious again almost immediately. 

"Okay, these are going to be rapid-fire so I hope you're prepared.. What .. is my name?"

"Cedar." 

"What's your name?" 

"Elliott." 

"Are you sure?" Cedar narrowed his eyes.

"Yes."

"Do I work on a farm?" The questions came quicker.

"Yes."

"Do I live on a farm?"

" Yes. "

"Is it night time?"

"Yes."

" Are my eyes green?"

" Yes."

"Hot cop's based off me?"

" Yes-" 

"Ah-HAH!!" Cedar exclaimed, taking a step back, up onto the first step of the porch. He raised his arms in triumph as Elliott processed what just happened.

"Wait," Elliott unfolded his arms, and they hovered in front of him, just as confused as him. "Wait, I mean-" It was too late. Cedar was just drunk enough to miss a small slip of the tongue, supposedly, but sober enough to outsmart Elliott in a children's game. Or maybe I really am just a fool, Elliott internally groaned.

Cedar practically fell backward, landing his butt right on the top step of the porch. His eyes widened as he grinned. "Stammering, huh?" He spoke in a calmer tone, granting the other man mercy from the author's perspective. "So it is true?" 

" Ahhh, y-yes…" The author awkwardly shoved a hand in his pocket, the other nervously moving to the back of his neck. Elliott's cheeks flushed pink, and he hoped that they were still a bit red from the alcohol, or from the cold and banter. Maybe? Hopefully? 

Cedar reached to the side of the middle step, and tapped the tip of his cigarette into the ash tray until it burnt itself out. "You could have told me, I wouldn't mind. It's kind of cool, actually."

Elliott's heart was already beating out of his chest, but he tried to at least appear calm. ".. Wait, so," the author blinked, lowering his arms to his sides. "You're not- disgusted? Or, or angry with me?" He moved a fraction of an inch closer to the farmer. 

"No, no, I'm okay, really! I've thought about it here and there. I'm not like, 'Ughh, I can't believe this, I hate this man', or something." Cedar gave two thumbs up with a smile. "Promise." 

This felt too good to be true. Too… simple. Too easy of a hurdle that should feel like a brick wall. Was it really all just a big deal in his head? Elliott clasped his hands together nervously. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to overly prod you, but, you know, you read some of it! There's the romantic subplot we talked about." 

Cedar continued to reassure the author that everything was fine. "It's kind of like having your own personal fanfic, I don't know," the man shrugged. "Unless I'm missing something." The farmer leaned his elbows on his knees, lessening the distance between the two by a few inches. "You totally gave him my hairstyle, at least. The terrible smoking habit. What else ..?" The farmer wondered aloud.

This is too easy. He doesn't understand. If I don't come clean now, I won't be able to look him in the eyes anymore. 

" Everything ," Elliott blurted before he could change his mind. It caught both men off guard, and they sat in silence for a moment. Cedar only blinked up at the other as he waited for him to elaborate. 

"E-.. Everything." Elliott brought a hand up to his face, feeling the heat rise from his cheeks. He was aware that his embarrassment was on full display due to the porch light, which only made it worse. "Basically everything. I wouldn't have come so far in such a short period of time without you. I didn't want to just copy and paste you into my book, I knew that would be too obvious and a bit.. creepy. So I didn't want to do that either way, but you just.." 

Elliott dragged his hand down his face. It felt too hot. He unzipped his coat and made the mistake of glancing at Cedar, who had a somewhat deer-in-headlights look about him, and some emotion Elliott couldn't quite place in it all. He adjusted his footing, turning away from the farmer by a few inches. His right arm came up to scratch at the back of his head as it tilted downward just enough for a curtain of hair to fall to the side of his face, conveniently helping to block his view of the farmer and vice-versa. Elliott's other hand moved to his hip.

"It's the way he speaks, and the way he stands. It's the best way I can describe the different ways you laugh. His facial expressions... I've tried hiding the more obvious bits from you, but If you read the whole thing, you can tell. He's not a perfect copy, I didn't want him to be . But he's clearly only inspired by you, and some..  'cool detective' stereotypes. And if I didn't put it in Hudson, I used it for Carlisle, but it wasn't as many clear and straightforward things, it was…" Elliott sighed. 

There's no way I get out of this without looking like a total creep. I don't even want to look at him. I can only imagine how insufferable I must be in his eyes. 

"Uhm.." Elliott fully turned his back toward Cedar. He lowered his head as he bit his lip, both hands on his hips. He felt like he was on fire. "It was most of my book. Whether you helped proofread it or just had a random  conversation with me one day,  you're the reason behind most of my book's progress." 

The silence was deafening. 

"I understand if you think it's weird, or I'm vulgar, or you don't want to speak with me ."

Chapter Text

Elliott cursed himself. How cowardly, I can't bear to look at him. It’s basic respect! This is not how I wanted to tell him this-

Cedar laughed quietly, and Elliott flinched at the sudden sound. The author had no idea what that reaction meant. He was almost too mortified to turn around, but after a few agonizing seconds, he slowly and reluctantly did so.

The farmer’s head was tilted downward, face covered by a hand, hair, and the shadows cast by the porch light. He had leaned back a bit, and his other arm held him up. Cedar was basically just lounging across the steps, and something about the scene caused Elliott’s brain to continue to short-circuit. Such a casual pose in the midst of all the tension.

“ W-..Why are you laughing..?” Elliott forced out the question, wondering if the farmer was too drunk to understand the weight of the moment.

“I’m sorry.. This is just…” Cedar fully laid back onto the deck and covered his face with both hands. “This is just kind of- really funny.”

Elliott didn’t understand a thing, and he was positive it wasn’t because of the alcohol. He peered closer to the other man and focused on his chest. He watched the uneven breathing and shaking, and was able to deduce that the other was silently laughing at him even now. The author just watched, speechless.

“ Sorry.. Sorry, I know this is like, really stressful for you right now, but- but that’s kind of why it’s hilarious,” Cedar tried holding it together long enough to form full sentences. “ It just feels really dramatic, I’m going to blame- blame the alcohol…” The farmer took in a breath and held it. After a few seconds, he removed his hands from his face, and his arms fell limply above his head against the hardwood. He sighed, eyes closed, face red. He cleared his throat.  “ Alright , I’m back..”

The author blinked. “..Cedar, can you…” He inched closer, still half hovering over the other man, “Elaborate on what any of that meant , please?”

“ Yes, Elliott..” Cedar’s left hand moved back to rest over his face while he continued to smile, unable to fully contain himself. “You just said all that like it was your grand scheme to deceive me and steal my cat, and sell it on Ebay or something, and I put all the pieces together and caught you! You said it with that tone, but you basically recited me a love letter,” the farmer joked.

Elliott’s breath caught in his throat as Cedar continued. “I’m flustered and overwhelmed but It’s still okay, all I have to say is you could have just told me sooner. I don’t think you’re creepy or vulgar or anything like that for using me as inspiration for your book.”

Elliott’s face felt like it spontaneously combusted, and he stood upright, frozen with this realization.

Oh my god.. I basically DID just recite him a love letter. He’s right!..

The author covered his mouth with a hand, his other arm left stiff at his side. Cedar put his hands to his sides to sit up, and he made sure to look at the other as he spoke. “I think holding this in left you wayyy too much time to overthink how I’d feel about this… You didn’t have to word your outburst so poetically, though..”

Elliott was clearly unsure of how to handle the conversation, but what the other didn’t know, was that the author was grappling with himself to not blurt out his true feelings.

Drunk Cedar decided Sober Cedar would sort this out. So he gave up on trying.

"Come inside," Cedar said. "It's getting cold."

The auburn haired man watched the other stagger to his feet. The casual look and wave from Cedar assured Elliott that Cedar was handling this way better than himself. Elliott steeled himself. He cleared his throat, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and made his way up the steps as Cedar opened the door into the farmhouse. Elliott paused on the top step of the porch after Cedar stepped inside, giving himself a quick mental pep talk. 

This ends tonight! I'm done wondering, done pacing my room at all hours! I’m going to do my best to figure out how he feels!.. 

As Elliott finally made his way through the front door of Cedar’s home, he barely got a foot past the threshold before he stopped himself, the door still left half open next to him. Only a few feet in front of him was Cedar with a faint smile on his face, cheeks dusted pink. His head was tilted downward as his light blue jacket slid down his arms in a swift, practiced motion. The farmer draped it over the nearby dining room chair as he looked up at the author, and his free hand brushed his hair back. Some hair sunk behind his ear, some stayed toward the back, and one side draped itself to frame half the farmer's face. Cedar's mouth moved for a moment.

Elliott thinks Cedar said something about coffee. He blinked and the only word the writer could manage in response was a simple and dumbfounded, “ What?”

Green eyes stared into eachother until Cedar was the first to look away, breaking the few seconds of silence with some more laughter at the author's expense. He raised a hand up to his mouth in a poor attempt to hide it. "I know how I'm feeling right now, but you? How drunk are you?"

"I- uh.." Elliott cursed himself for being blindsided by the farmer's mere existence while under the influence. Again. "Sorry," he raised a hand to brush some hair behind his ear, attempting to play it cool. "What was the previous question?" 

" I said ," Cedar began a slow strut toward the author with half lidded eyes and a sideways grin. "Would you like some coffee," he raised his left hand, reaching past Elliott who stared wide eyed in response, "- before you leave tonight?" The sentence was punctuated with the soft click of the door closing.

The two men stared at each other. Their chests were no more than eight or so inches apart. There was already a noticeable temperature difference in the home versus outside, but this… Elliott almost ripped his coat off right then and there. 

With Cedar to his right and a rather large houseplant to his immediate left, the author had nowhere to go. It was this moment, as Elliott's heart felt like it would burst from his chest, that Leah's advice echoed in Elliott's mind. The few seconds since Cedar's question had felt torturous, so the author mentally thanked the artist for letting him pretend he had a leg to stand on. 

If I was writing this scene...

Elliott narrowed his eyes, finding his way back to the playful tone the two had on the walk over. The author feigned sadness. "This almost feels like a threat more so than a gesture of friendship." 

"That's not what I meant," Cedar mused, and he gave Elliott an obvious once-over. "I would hate to hear that you could have sobered up and gotten home safely, but instead stumbled over yourself on the way home in some tragic, embarrassing accident, and you miss your shot in What's His Name's billion dollar movie deal." A sly smile graced the farmer's lips.

Elliott huffed a laugh at the scenario, crossing his arms as he looked down his nose at the slightly shorter man. "I thought it was Mr.Some Guy with the once in a lifetime movie deal?" 

Smirking, Cedar sighed. He cocked his head to the side and spoke softly. " Are you really going to argue the specifics regarding a made-up businessman with me ?" 

“I will argue specifics for as long as you wish to play pretend ,” For emphasis, Elliott slowly leaned a couple inches closer as he spoke. 

Cedar reflexively withdrew his hand from the door, glancing at Elliott’s lips as he stopped himself from grabbing on to the taller man’s arm. He looked back up at the author’s eyes, now only about four inches away, as his hand hovered between them. Both men froze.

They both knew neither of them were drunk enough to overlook that misunderstanding.

It was unclear who broke first.

Elliott unfolded his arms. One hand shot to Cedar's waist, the other caressed the man's cheek. Simultaneously, Cedar grabbed onto Elliott’s upper arm with his left hand, his right clutching at the front of Elliott's jacket as the two kissed with a ferocity that surprised them both, but only for a moment. After a few seconds pause, the kiss was broken and both men stared at eachother briefly. They only blinked before shutting their eyes and going for it again.

Cedar's tongue trailed a line along Elliot's bottom lip. Meanwhile, the zipper that kept Elliott far too warm was thankfully tugged down by the farmer, who quickly ran a hand up the author's chest to his shoulder, smoothly pushing half the jacket away, revealing the white button-up shirt underneath.

Elliott parted his lips as he let go of the other man just long enough to slip the jacket completely off, and he tossed it past the farmer and onto the kitchen table. He quickly tugged up his sleeves.

The emerald haired man wasted no time trying to assert dominance in the kiss, and gave Elliott a gentle push against his chest, trying to box him in again against the door. Cedar laid a hand against the door to brace himself, trying not to fall onto the other.

Despite the heated kissing, with his jacket gone, Elliott felt like he could actually breathe again.The second his back touched the wood, he leaned deeper into the kiss, deciding to fight back against the other's tongue while his hands returned to the other man's waist. Elliott's fingers slipped below the hem of the black hoodie. One hand snaked up the farmer's back, gliding above Cedar's shirt. The other went underneath his shirt as well, but rested at his waist.

Cedar sighed into the kiss. Elliott's hand wandering around his back sent a shiver through him. It slowly made its way around Cedar's side, tugging the hoodie up as it went. The farmer was starting to find it hard to concentrate, enjoying the small circles Elliott's thumb was drawing on his hip. 

" Can I take this off?" Elliott mumbled against the other's lips before he opened his eyes as he pulled back slightly, waiting for a response. The author froze watching Cedar's half lidded eyes glance from the writer’s eyes to his lips. He had a beautiful pink and dazed look about him. Elliott bit the inside of his cheek, grounding himself so he didn't rip off the other's clothes without an answer. 

Cedar pushed off the door, taking a step back and breaking free from Elliott’s gentle hands. He tore off the hoodie himself, looking Elliott in the eyes as he threw it far off behind himself, and it landed somewhere in the living room. Cedar quickly ruffled his hair in an attempt to fix whatever the hoodie may have caused, then tugged the collar of his shirt down so it didn't feel like it was choking him. He went to step forward to continue the evening's surprise activities. Elliott intercepted him. 

The author swiftly stepped up to the farmer, put his right hand on the man's waist, and guided him another step backward. Cedar found himself with his hands on the author's arms again to stabilize himself, looking to the side in an attempt to see behind himself as he was backed against the kitchen table. Elliott's left hand was placed on the edge of the table as he leaned over the other slightly. Cedar watched as beautiful auburn hair fell between their eyes in the most perfect way possible. 

A quiet " Woah.." escaped the man pressed against the table.

The author couldn't stop himself from laughing at the farmer's faint exclamation.
The laughter slowly ceased as the hair hung in his face was gently pushed behind his ear by the other man. A few strands slid right back into place to frame Elliott’s face. He silently watched the farmer stare at him, at his lips, at his chest, to some place lower. Elliott focused on controlling his breathing so he didn't come off as some starved animal. Getting to stop and stare at Cedar was a nice break.

Cedar snaking his hands over Elliott’s shoulders and calling him beautiful was a different type of break. 

The two feverishly kissed again, and Elliott wasted no time pulling his lower half snug against the other as his fingers danced across Cedar's side. His other hand left the table, opting to hide in the other's hair, tugging gently. 

Cedar moaned quietly into the kiss. The sound seemed to spur on the author, who moved both hands to the farmer’s waist as he pressed against him. Another hum escaped Cedar. He broke the kiss to start giggling, leaning his head down onto the author’s shoulder. He interrupted himself with a bite of his lip from the writer’s continued grinding.

Elliott stifled some of his own laughter in return, then spoke in a hushed tone. “Why are you laughing?” He paused his movements.

“I don’t know,” Cedar raised his head slowly, hair falling into his face. He let go of Ellliott and stood up straighter for a second, giving the author a slight nudge backwards for space. Bringing his hands down to the table’s edge at his sides, Cedar scooted himself up to sit on the table, then slid his hands back a bit further. As if he had all the time to sit there and relax, legs spread just enough for the other to stand between them, Cedar’s arms held him up in a sitting position that looked like he was draped across the table for the author to paint him.

“Something’s funny somewhere, I’m sure.” Cedar grinned mischievously.

Elliott stood in silence, basking in the view. From the tousled hair and teasing amount of collar bone at the collar of Cedar’s shirt, to the belt uncovered by the shirt’s hem, and the bulge in the man’s pants clearly on display.. Elliott felt like he was looking at a dirty magazine cover, even with the other’s clothes still on. Cedar only had to look down to be able to tell the author was enjoying the view.

“You are,” Elliott began, stepping forward so his hips were flush with the farmer’s again. He leaned over the other man, holding himself up with a hand on either side of the other. “-A lot to take in.”

“I’ve heard this before,” Cedar quipped, smirking. He stared up at the other, and raised a hand to caress Elliott’s cheek as he tilted his head for another kiss.

Elliott happily obliged.

His hand trailed slowly up the other man’s side, raising his shirt and revealing beautiful unmarked skin as he went. Elliott glanced at it hungrily when he could. After a few moments, the author chuckled quietly to himself as Cedar struggled opening the buttons to his shirt. He reached to undo them himself, but froze.

Someone knocked at the front door.

“Cedar~?” Marnie called from the other side of the unlocked front door. “Are you home? Are you still awake?”

The two men exchanged a quick glance before separating as if their lives depended on it. Elliott stepped to the side and reached across the table for his jacket as Cedar sprang up. 

"Yeah! Give me one minute, - uh," Cedar glanced around, but then remembered he lived here, so it didn't matter if any of his stuff was lying around. He ran his hands through his hair, gathering it all together and tying up in a messy yet presentable bun with expert precision and speed. He fixed the hem of his shirt before opening the door.

Elliott stood off to the side, out of view from the front door. He'd be surprised at how casual and calm Cedar managed to look so quickly if his heart wasn't beating out of his chest. 

"What's up? You don't usually swing by so late." Cedar's voice was steady, and he kept one hand on the door knob, the other on the door frame. He didn't check to see where Elliott went, and although it wasn't like the man was naked in the background, he'd rather just play it safe for now.

"I know," Marnie replied with an apologetic yet exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry. I saw you at the Stardrop earlier, so I assumed you'd still be awake. Shane left before me, and when I got home, I couldn't find him. He was outside passed out next to the chicken coop, he let all the girls out, too! I was able to corral them all back inside, but Shane won't budge. If it was a nicer night, I wouldn't make as much of a fuss. But it's cold tonight… I'm sorry to ask this so suddenly, but could you come by and just help me get him inside?" 

"Yeah, of course," Cedar replied reflexively. Smiling, he was already plotting how to have Shane make this up to him down the road, but how do you measure the damage cost of being cock- blocked in terms of frozen pizza? 

"Oh, thank you so much, Cedar! You've made this old girl's night. I already put on some tea, and I have some pumpkin pie leftover as well. It's got your name on it." Marnie gave a warm smile.

Chapter Text

Groaning, Cedar rubbed his temples. He felt awful.

He felt dehydrated.

And shortly after waking up, he felt like he messed up big time.

The chickens were quiet this morning as they roamed around inside the coop, occasionally pecking at some feed. Cedar lost track of how long he was standing with them, unable to keep his mind from wandering to the previous night's events. The headache wasn’t helping his slow pace. Deciding to head back to the warmth of his own home, he took a step toward the door. Startled over a statue coming to life, the chickens acted way too dramatic for the liking of Cedar’s hangover. He ignored them as he made his way out.

The door to the coop quietly clicked shut, and Cedar breathed a sigh of relief. He was grateful that it was overcast, and that the sun couldn’t assault his eyes in his time of weakness. Turning to cast his sunken gaze over his land, the farmer’s eyes landed on the small pond on his property. He stared at it vacantly.

Water. I just need to chill out and drink some more water.

Cedar closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing in the fresh valley air. He opened them when his black cat returned from her daily hike around who knows where. Lasagna purred up against his leg. Cedar reached down, picking the cat up like a toddler and holding it against his chest.

Wordlessly, the two made their way into the farmhouse.

It didn’t take long for Cedar to find his way to a glass of water, and back into bed. He faceplanted into the coolness of the pillow with a soft grunt. When he didn’t immediately fall asleep and wake up headache-free, the farmer rolled onto his back. Blinking as he stared at the ceiling in the dark room, Cedar wondered what the consequences of his actions would be.

Elliott was not still in his livingroom when the farmer returned home after helping Marnie with her Shane problem, even though he declined tea and pie and made quick work of dragging the practically unconscious man inside. Not exactly surprising. Elliott wouldn’t have known how long Cedar would be, but it left a weird feeling in the farmer’s chest. It was one of those things that could be or might not be a big deal. What would a ‘proper’ goodnight/see you later even have been? And even if Cedar got back and Elliott was still standing there, what would he have done?

From the farmer’s perspective, he toyed with the author too much the night before.

It’s like the moment I got into my house, I didn’t care about anything. I just did…

He brought a hand up to cover his face, feeling the heat of his cheeks against his fingertips.

..Dumb shit.

Cedar couldn’t remember everything Elliott said to him in front of his house. He mostly remembered the author looking embarrassed.

He basically said I was his muse, but… Ugh, the way he said it is equal parts fuzzy and..

Cedar pulled the pillow from under his head and slapped it against his face. He left it there, letting his hand fall next to his head.

Maybe if all the booze didn’t go straight to my brain I wouldn’t have been thinking with my dick! Man, I probably came off as pretty desperate.

Cedar rested his hands on his stomach with a sigh, before recalling that the author had shoved him against the kitchen table.

…. At least I wasn’t the only one who looked that way.

Cedar smirked to himself. Then reminded himself this wasn’t some romcom or anime, and this won’t magically and unproblematically shove their relationship to the next level. His hands shot into his hair.

AGH, WHAT EVEN WAS THE PLAN ANYWAY?! The farmer sneered at himself, then sat up. I guess I should be thankful Marnie interrupted us. At least it gives me less stuff to have a meltdown over… I’ve been feeling so deprived for so long we probably would have gone all the way if it was possible.. No, I don’t think I’m that stupid when I’m drunk. I don’t think Elliott is, either…

Cedar once again recalled the grinding that was very much instigated by Elliott.

The farmer hid his face in his hands for a few moments.

Emerald hair was pushed out of the man’s face as he stood. Deciding he needed to cool off, the farmer made his way to the bathroom as he thought about how his next interaction with the author would be … something he’s really gotta think about.
 

How awkward is this going to be? Would Elliott be mad?.. Why would Elliott even be mad? No, he'll probably be really awkward about it, no matter his feelings… Ugh, I at least wish I didn't just ditch him in my own house…

Cedar wondered what would have happened if Shane knew how to tuck himself into bed. It was a brief thought, quickly swatted away, before it returned. The more Cedar tried not to think about it, the harder it was to push back.

The only thing that kept Cedar's feral mind held back was the near constant thoughts and questions about what all this meant for the author and himself moving forward. Would they talk and try to act like it never happened? Cedar thought it unlikely that they'd become some sort of friends with benefits situation, Elliott was way too into romance and the ideas of what it means to be in a committed relationship… 

…Would we get into a relationship? I think that's what I want.. I definitely don't want things to go the opposite direction.

Entering the bathroom, Cedar shut the door quietly behind himself. He stared into his eyes reflected in the mirror. Then to his pink freckled cheeks. Suddenly, Cedar had a thought. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. He scanned his body for any type of marks and found none.

The farmer sighed. They hadn’t gone any further than kissing and grinding, he was sure of it now. If the sheer shock of that thought didn't bring back any memories, and there was no evidence, then that was that. Cedar scoffed to himself with a slight smile.

Finding the fact he felt equal parts relieved and disappointed to be embarrassing and annoying, Cedar turned on the shower and finished getting undressed.

I mean, I guess, maybe we wouldn’t have gone all the way if Marnie didn’t interrupt. Don’t know who’d top. Could have done other stuff… Only way around that hurdle would be if one of us caved or drew straws or something stupid like that. Maybe we’re not sexually compatible in that sense..? There’s plenty of sexual things to do that aren't full-blown sex…

Stepping into the heat of the shower, Cedar recalled the grinding yet again, and the look on Elliott’s face as he unbuttoned his shirt. The look on Elliott’s face when Cedar took a seat on the table that the author had pushed him against. The look on Elliott’s face when he whispered something Cedar couldn’t remember into his ear. The look on Elliott’s face the entire time they had been in the house last night, period. Whether it was a crystal clear memory or something his imagination created to fill in the blanks, the farmer couldn't take it.

Cedar put all his concentration into finding out if he could pour the absolutely most perfect amount of shampoo into his hand while ignoring the brewing feeling in a region he refused to acknowledge.

It’s me. I’d have caved.

—--

Elliott’s forehead thunked loudly onto his desk.

You stupid animal!

He raised his head an inch, then dropped it against the wooden surface again, eliciting another thunk.

Where was your patience? Your self-control?

Thunk.

Have you no dignity?!

Thunk.

He gets surprised, thinking you were going to kiss him, so you just decide to deliver? 

Thunk. 

Without a second thought! 

Thunk. 

And while you’re both intoxicated!

Thunk… Thunk... Thunk.

And you couldn’t even be the least bit romantic! You had to shove him against a table and grind against him like some horny teenager! Like some rabid animal!

Thunk.

Elliott groaned.

He had been brooding, slumped over at his desk for only a few minutes. Just before that, the author was trying to recollect the previous night’s events for ten minutes in the bathroom mirror after he woke up. Elliott was able to put enough of the picture back together.

He learned about my secret. I apologized and dug my grave, or at least, what felt like my grave. Cedar was too drunk to push me into it. Or maybe he truly didn’t mind. Regardless, for whatever reason, we both went inside, and he closed the door next to me and…

Thunk.

And I attacked his lips like some depraved beast!

Thunk.

Elliott sighed.

No, he was pushing my coat off shortly after we started kissing. He was into it, he must have been into it… Ahhh, but he was also not sober!

Needing a change of pace, Elliott slumped back in his chair. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he wondered what came over him last night.

Damned saloon. I can’t do that again, I need to pace myself better from now on…  If Marnie didn’t show up, who knows what I would have done!.. Other than, apparently, p roceed with absolutely no caution whatsoever! What a fantastic train of thought that was.

Redfaced, Elliott scowled.

I suppose it was a matter of time before I broke under the pressure. I just wish it wasn’t like that…

Neither man showed their face in town that day.

—--

Thursday, the Fourth of Winter.

Before heading out to the library, Elliott sent out a letter to his local green-haired farmer. It was something he wrote up quickly, tired of delaying the inevitable. With winter in full swing, there was a low risk of the two bumping into each other outside of the Saloon. Given the crux of the current issue… Elliott found the idea of bumping into Cedar there in poor taste. Being two adults, surely, they could agree to meet up and talk this out…

Cedar thought similarly, having written the author a letter the night before. Wondering if he ruined a perfectly good friendship kept him up. There was far less work to be done during this season, which meant there was little to distract the farmer from his thoughts. Writing a letter was the only thing Cedar could think of. Even if it was to just organize his thoughts and throw it out after. During this weird time, it brought him a sense of normalcy. Cedar almost tossed a polaroid picture in as well, but it was an idea he immediately shot down given the muddy waters right now.

Instead, the picture was brought over to the pinboard in the living room, and tacked up next to his other photos. The one that stuck out to him the most was Gravy, one of his brown hens, and the weird doll she had found some weeks ago. Cedar recalled how that day was the last time he had sent a photo to Elliott.

Wow, whaddaya doing getting all sentimental like you just went through a break-up? You weren’t even together to begin with. Get it together and stop overthinking.

After wishing he could rewind time, the farmer decided to watch the news, accompanied by a cup of coffee. He just needed to relax.

Cedar carefully placed the cup down on the small living room table, then unceremoniously plopped down onto the middle of the couch. His hair splayed out over his shoulders, and he gave the collar of his faded green t-shirt a light tug. The remote was snagged quickly, and Cedar barely held it up to turn the TV on. The local weather forecast flashed to life.

The farmer leaned forward slightly, grabbed his coffee mug, then rested his back against the couch again in an attempt to get comfortable. As the news went on to mention a coming snowstorm, Cedar fidgeted in his seat, moving his hair or changing the position of his leg. By the end of the two-minute-long segment, Cedar was no more prepared for the coming weather than he was before he sat down. It had all gone in one ear and out the other.

Cedar’s eyes locked onto the bottom of the screen. Thursday, the fourth, five-twenty p.m.

Thursday. Winter. Five-twenty p.m.

Screw it.

Cedar stood up from the couch, much to the shock of the cat that had just jumped up to join him. He chugged seventy percent of a previously full cup of coffee, then wiped his lip with his thumb. “Sorry, bud.”

The farmer quickly made his way to the kitchen sink, placing the mug inside of it. As Cedar moved about, the cat got comfy on the sofa, splaying out where Cedar had sat a moment prior.

I’m going to go do something stupid. But at least I’m sober enough to do it on purpose .

Cedar grabbed a grey hoodie from his room then made his way to his blue coat that resided on the back of a kitchen chair.

In one swift motion, the coat was flung around Cedar’s shoulders and was zipped up shortly after. Emerald hair was tied up into a messy bun, and black boots were knotted. The farmer opened the front door, feeling the cold breeze wash over him. Cedar took a deep breath.

What a time to cut back on smoking.

—--

Arriving home after an attempt to clear his head at the library, Elliott stared at his mailbox. A single envelope sat inside.

Is that..?

Pulling the letter from the box, the author checked for the sender.

It is!

Elliott ripped open the envelope as he gently kicked the door closed behind him. Out came familiar purple paper with a gemstone border. The author didn’t waste time kicking off his shoes or taking off his coat, and went straight to sit at his desk.

‘ Hey Elliott. I will be honest. I have no idea what to write. So, I’m going to just dive right in before I put this off further. Whether in person or through the help of the postal system, I think we need to hash out our thoughts on the other night. I’m really, truly sorry if I did anything that upset you now that we’re both in a better state of mind. This is really awkwardly written and I’m sorry for that, too. Let me know if you want to meet up in person or we can just talk like this. I’d rather talk about this sooner than later.I don’t want to ruin,-’ the words ‘what we have’ were crossed out, and were replaced by, ‘ us beyond repair.’

Elliott stared at the sentence for a moment, then continued reading.

‘ Long story short, I don’t want to make this sound like too big of a deal or not a big enough deal and I just want to know how you feel.’

There was no formal ending, the letter finished just like that.

Elliott sat in a long silence. Eventually, he laid the letter down, and his palm quickly met his forehead.

I told myself I’d find out how he feels about me! A clever excuse to be a coward and let him do all the hard work. All I’ve accomplished is more confusion and emotional suffering on both ends because I can’t just be an adult and confess my own feelings!

The author stood up in a huff, filled to the brim with determination. He was going to get this done! Get it over with, like ripping off a bandaid! It was time to stop playing childish games and beating around the bush! It had gone on long enough! The moment he sees Cedar, he is going to tell him exactly how he feels! Immediately and without question!

Less than a second before Elliott’s hand made contact with his front door, someone beat him to it. But it was too late, his body was already in the motions and he pulled the door open with haste, not having processed any knocks on the door.

The door flew open and Elliott was half in and out of the door frame when he froze so suddenly that the front half of  his hair exploded forward as if pushed by a gust of wind. His jacket was at the risk of sliding off his left shoulder. His mind went blank.

Green eyes locked onto each other. Barely two feet away stood the farmer Elliott so badly wanted to see, looking just as surprised as the writer. Eyes wide, Cedar swallowed. The hand he had knocked with was drawn back toward his chest from the surprise entrance, or exit , of the man he came to see. The only indication that either man was even breathing was the small puffs of air only visible because of the cold.

“I,” Cedar muttered, collecting his bearings before speaking louder, “Sorry, I- Wanted to talk to you… Is this-”

“No!” The author blurted out. He cleared his throat after the two stared at each other, equally confused again. “ No , this isn’t a bad time, I mean. I’m.. Sorry,” Elliott breathed, finally letting go of the door handle and the wood frame. He adjusted his jacket and hair quickly. “I’m sorry I look so disheveled, I was actually on my way out just now to go talk to you, too.”

“... Oh.” Cedar’s hand finally lowered. He continued to stare at Elliott with wide eyes, but his overall body was able to relax a bit. “That’s..Good..?” The farmer shook his head, He wanted and needed to get back the mindset that made him march over here. Now wasn’t the time to be a deer in headlights. Cedar’s body language became serious within a flash, as if he had shaken off the weight of the surprise of Elliott being in his own doorway.

Cedar locked eyes with Elliott again. “I wanted to apologize- For the other night. I wasn’t thinking about anything, and I made a bunch of stupid decisions. And-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Elliott interrupted, brows knit together with the most serious face the farmer had ever seen on the other. “I took advantage of you while we were drunk. It was my fault things escalated and I should’ve stopped myself.”

Cedar felt confused. Really confused. Brows furrowed, he recalled his own antics that escalated the night. He didn’t feel taken advantage of at all, unless he had forgotten something crucial, but he didn’t believe that to be the case. Elliott was in the middle of a follow up sentence, of which Cedar had heard none of , when he interjected.

“What are you talking about?”

Elliott’s full body paused, his hand left hung in the air from the vague gesture accompanying his words. He blinked, and then a look of horror flashed across his face. “ Do -Do you not.. Remember? I-” Elliott’s cheeks lit up like a christmas tree, and suddenly, the author seemed to not know english. “The k-kissing, the.. We.. The table, I, Uh -” Each word was quieter than the last. The author was stunned into silence that didn’t last long at all, as Cedar was quick to reply.

“I remember, I was there. I thought we were flirting on the walk back to my house, and then I came onto you in the doorway, and then-”

Elliott watched as Cedar listed what had happened that night except, thankfully , from his perspective. At no point did he say he felt taken advantage of, if anything, he felt like he seduced drunken Elliott instead. The author blinked, watching as the farmer rambled on. Though parts were fuzzy, neither had forgotten anything crucial it seemed, which was good. But he needed to get the farmer to reel it in a bit. Elliott had never seen the man so outwardly stressed.

“-And I just didn’t stop myself and I probably came off as really desperate but thats beside the point- If Marnie didn’t interrupt-”

“ Wait , Cedar,” Elliott raised a hand, trying to mentally sort out everything that was going on.

The farmer stopped the vague gestures and wrangled in his words. He lowered his arms to his sides with an exhausted sounding huff that he didn’t mean to make so loudly. Cedar swallowed, glancing at the ground for a split second before looking back to Elliott.

“So.. To be clear, because I think we’re both a little high strung and confused right now..” Elliott slowly lowered his hand as Cedar nodded, his face now red as well. “We both feel like we made some bad decisions..” Elliott’s sentenced trailed off. After a brief pause where Elliott watched the gears turn in Cedar’s head, the farmer nodded, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “And we both just want to know how the other feels..? Because, honestly, Cedar, I feel like I came onto you like some fiend who had never had sex before. And while you were drunk, too. That’s not how I would have done that- I would’nt have acted so brazzenly if I was sober. That was…” Elliott stopped, looking for the right words.

For a few seconds, the two just breathed in silence. Cedar could tell Elliott was trying to get his thoughts in order. If it was any other moment, he would have made a prod about the writer being speechless. But it didn’t even cross his mind. However, Cedar didn’t need to articulate anything. Mostly because he decided he needed to stop being a coward.

“I like you,” Cedar and Elliott said in tandem, followed by a simultaneous “ Huh? ” and “ What? ” from the farmer and author respectively.

Elliott was the first to reply again, holding up his hands as a sign for Cedar to give him a moment as he began to quickly pour out his feelings. “I thought it might become clear when I told you that I was using you as the muse for my book unintentionally and then very intentionally, but then inside- It’s no excuse at all, and it definitely wasn’t one of the most romantic displays of affection I’ve ever done, but I- I’ve just been so head over heels for you for awhile now so when we got inside your house and you walked up to me, and it looked like you thought I was going to kiss you, I just- I just broke, and that’s why I felt like I took advantage of you. Because you gave me an inch when you started shoving off my jacket so I took a mile and couldn’t keep my hands off you! I kept telling myself I needed to gauge how you felt about me before doing anything when I should have just told you or asked sooner, but instead in my drunken idiocy I took your positive reactions while you were intoxicated as the sign that it was okay to act out of line-”

“It looked like I thought you were going to kiss me because I thought you were going to kiss me, and I wanted you to kiss me!” Cedar’s hands shot out from his sides for emphasis. “So I kissed you! Or, I guess , we decided to kiss each other at the same time. But you weren’t taking advantage of me, I liked what was happening! I wanted what was happening, that’s why I didn’t stop you! Every time we drink together I get all these ideas that I fight back but this time they just- they just finally won!..” Cedar’s arms fell to his sides, and a few seconds later, they  covered his face as he groaned.

Elliott could only blink, mouth slightly agape, and Cedar’s face stayed firmly in his hands. The two stood in the awkward and embarrassing air they had cooked up from their respective ramblings as the full realization of what they had both said and heard crashed into them. The author wanted to reach out to check on Cedar, but he couldn’t bring his hand more than a few inches away from his body. He felt dumbfounded, all he could say was a quiet, “Me too.”

Cedar slowly raised his head as his hands remained hovering for a few seconds longer, and he didn’t take his eyes off the ground. He looked confused for a moment, then the author watched Cedar’s gaze slowly climb up his body as a faint smile formed, growing larger the closer the farmer’s eyes came to meeting the author’s own. Cedar scoffed. His hands went to his knees as he began laughing.

It clicked in Elliott’s head. This entire situation and all of the drama and lack thereof was a really stupid thing for two grown men to find themselves in. Elliott followed suit shortly after, unable to contain himself the more he thought about it.

10 seconds of laughing and giggling like school girls was eventually put to rest when Cedar finally collected himself. Standing up straight, Cedar put his hands in his coat pockets. Elliott quieted down just in time for him to lock eyes with the farmer again.

“..All of this nonsense because we get drunk and horny and can’t just communicate when we’re sober.” Cedar lowered his head slightly. “I’m sorry. My feelings.. This was something I should have came out with, or.. At least hinted at sooner on a day we weren't drinking.”

“There were a bunch of times where I thought you were flirting with me when we were sober,” Elliott quipped.

“When?… Like what?”

Elliott slid his hands into his coat pockets to alleviate the growing chill in his bones. “Just the way you sit or lean sometimes.. A lot .. It could have just been my imagination and wishful thinking, or just you putting on an act for emphasis of something you said or to be funny.. A moment or two at the fair, or the bar, or.. Scrabble ,” Elliott chuckled quietly. “If not flirty, you definitely have this aura about you sometimes that just feels… Magnetic .”

“ Ah .. “ No one had ever used the word ‘magnetic’ to describe him before. “.. No, you were probably right most of the time. I like making you flustered.” Cedar’s eyes found the ground. “It’s amusing, and it’s cute.. to see you get a bit riled up because of me..”

Elliott watched Cedar reluctantly blush hard from his own honesty, and the farmer’s gaze remained glued to the floor. Elliott hummed a laugh. Cedar shifted slightly. 

“I’ve kind of known that for a while. Much longer than I've been wondering if you felt anything romantic towards me, but don’t worry, I usually enjoy your sadistic humor.” Elliott inched closer to Cedar with a soft smile and equally soft words. “You know, that's the type of honesty that you should have included in the latest letter of yours.” 

“You read that already?!” Cedar’s gaze flickered to the author for a short moment. “I was so stressed out when I wrote that, it's basically garbage. I just blurted things onto a piece of paper and I didn't even read it after, I just sent it so I could feel like I took charge without actually doing anything productive.” 

“Hey now,” Elliott lowered himself slightly in an attempt to get the farmer to look at him. “That wasn't garbage, it was your feelings. And if you couldn't tell, I care about those.” 

Cedar huffed a laugh as he met the author's gaze. 

Elliott stood up straight again. “Even if they're disorganized … And maybe it didn't feel like real productivity for you, but it was what was going to have me showing up at your door right about now. I couldn't bare knowing you were confused and stressed out about us- Whatever we are after the other night. I was so focused on not wanting to do something that might make you uncomfortable that I failed with flying colors. I could have been more blunt and honest at any time.”

“Me too. You can't take all the blame for yourself. I've known I've liked you for awhile but I couldn't be honest with myself, and once I was, I was worried about messing it up, or how it could go wrong, or something else. And I decided to play it safe, or pretend to I guess, while prodding you here and there… The prodding was mostly because you're fun to prod, though.” Cedar grinned, somehow managing to look sheepish and confident at the same time. 

Elliott smiled back. “So.. We're not upset with each other, acknowledge that this was a horrible lack of communication all around, that it is nobody's fault or both our faults, and we're both just lovestruck fools then?”

Cedar nodded. “Really big fools. The biggest fools on the beach.”

“We're the only people out here.”

Cedar gave a sly smile. “Even more so.” 

A quick laugh erupted from Elliott before he grinned wide. “ That's the farmer I've been longing for. I'm glad to see you feel better and have found your wit again.” 

“Yeah, yeah..” Looking away, Cedar tried to pretend Elliott’s mood wasn't infectious. 

Elliott leaned forward an inch. “Is there anything else we need to discuss in this frigid doorway?”

Cedar huffed a laugh, but then thought it over for a moment. “.. Actually.. Are we..” Cedar looked to the other. “Are we dating then?”

The immediate and romantic reply of ‘We can be anything you want us to be’ was swatted to the back of Elliott’s mind. It wasn’t following the idea of being direct and clearing away confusion at all. “If you don’t mind dating a fool, I’d love to.”

“I thought we just established that we’re both fools,” Cedar chimed as he stepped closer to Elliott. Hands still in his pockets, the farmer lowered his forehead against the other’s shoulder.

Elliott blinked. He was confused by the act of.. affection , until it dawned on him. The author slowly brought a hand to the other man’s back, followed by his other, and interlocked his fingers, placing the farmer in a loose hug. “Is this how you’re choosing to hide your face since your hair is tied up and your hands must be cold?”

“...”

Elliott gave a deep, hearty chuckle. How could someone he mentally associated with the yakuza also be known to hide their face when they’re embarrassed?

Cedar sighed, the author’s response wasn’t exactly a surprise. The hug was nice. “Do you have any more questions while we’re still in this frigid doorway?”

Elliott didn’t need to mull them over, but he hummed as if he did for effect. “Yes, only two. One of which is in regards to us leaving this frigid doorway to take shelter in the remaining heat inside my house.”

Having been exposed to the cold the longest, Cedar stepped back, breaking the hug as he looked up at the author. “Easy, yes, done, ” he smiled in an attempt to use this segue as a means of getting over how embarrassed he felt after all of the evening’s honesty. When Elliott didn’t immediately back up to let Cedar through, his smile faltered and he looked between the author and the inside of the cabin. He noted something in the author’s gaze that continued trying to keep Cedar’s face warm despite the weather. Even the author’s eyes smiled down at him. “... What’s your other question?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Chapter Text

“Can I kiss you?” Elliott asked.

The farmer blinked. He huffed a silent laugh, and Elliott watched the small puff of chilled air dissipate as Cedar replied with a simple, “Yeah.”

Elliott’s smile grew wider as he stared down at the farmer before he caught something in his peripheral vision. Willy was walking onto the docks. The author looked back to the curious farmer, who turned to catch a glimpse of the fisherman as well. “We should head inside first.”

“Agreed.”

The two received a short wave of acknowledgment from Willy as he set a course for town. They gave him a quick wave in response, and the two men stepped inside.

A heavy sigh escaped Cedar as he unzipped his jacket in the middle of Elliott’s living room.

Elliott shut the door and looked toward the farmer. “Maybe you should keep that on for a while? You look like you’re freezing.”

“My face and hands, yeah. But everything else feels hot.” After a short moment of deliberation, the farmer looked down and zipped the jacket halfway back up as a compromise. “Honestly, any shaking is probably due to the coffee I downed before coming here, just a straight shot of caffeine, you know.” Cedar looked up as Elliott came to a stop in front of him. As Cedar raised his head, Elliot’s warm palm gently caressed the side of his face, and the author looked at him with a mix of adoration in his smile and slight concern in his eyes.

“...What?” Cedar added.

“I know how long it takes you to walk here. I would hate for my boyfriend to get sick is all.” Elliott laughed lightly to himself.

After a pause, the farmer smirked. “You adjust fast.”

Elliott looked like he had something to add to the conversation, opening his mouth to speak but no words came out. Whatever it was couldn’t have been more important than the man before him wrapping his arms loosely around the author’s waist. It reminded Elliott of the task at hand.
There was a playful glint in the emerald green eyes that stared half-lidded into his own. Whatever Elliott was going to say was gone forever, and all that mattered was the barely parted lips that stood a mere few inches from his own. The author watched as those same lips curved into that familiar self-satisfied grin.

“Cat got your tongue?” Cedar asked.

Elliott’s thumb lightly brushed along the other’s pink cheek. “Have I ever told you that you remind me of the Cheshire Cat?”

“I have no idea what you mean. Please, enlighten me.” It wasn’t sarcastic in tone, but Elliott wasn’t that much of a fool.

Elliott drew in a slow breath. Half-lidded eyes glanced between the farmer’s eyes and lips. “We can discuss this later.”

Elliott leaned in, and he was met halfway by an equally excited Cedar. As their lips met, both men smiled into the kiss. The farmer’s hold tightened around Elliott momentarily, and Elliott let out a content sigh, more than happy to be in such a warm embrace. After a few seconds, the kiss was broken. It was far simpler and way less heated than their first, but neither seemed to mind.

The two blinked at each other, and Cedar was the first to point out the difference.

“Way less crazy than last time, but equally enjoyable,” The farmer smirked.

“Oh, please, don’t remind me,” Elliott rolled his eyes with a coy smile, his hand finally leaving Cedar’s cheek. “Not that I didn’t enjoy that as well! But I can’t help but wonder how the night would have gone if I didn’t follow Leah’s advice. Perhaps this would have been our first kiss instead, but the circumstances that led to it wouldn’t have happened, so…” The author shrugged as he locked eyes with the farmer again. “I’ll have it be more romantic next time, for sure.” A soft smile graced the author's lips.

Cedar raised a curious brow, and his head tilted slightly to the side as he removed his arms from Elliott’s waist, and sent his hands into the warmth of his coat pockets. “Leah’s advice?.. Was she the one who told you to bring the table into it?” Cedar managed an innocent yet all too mischievous smile, and once again, Elliott wasn’t sure how those two things could coincide. The look lost its innocence. “A bold move, I must say.”

“You truly are a villain.” Elliott went red-faced as he recalled the moment in question. “No, there was no mention of a table…” The author cleared his throat as he looked at the farmer’s lips again, and he stepped back a foot so he could gather his bearings and have a proper conversation.

Cedar waited patiently, enjoying the author’s flustered look.

“Right, well. I was telling her how I didn’t know how to proceed because I wasn’t sure if you felt the same. Or rather, when I was thinking you did, but I was too much of a coward to ask outright.” Elliott’s gaze flickered between the floorboards and the farmer’s gaze every other sentence. “So, she told me that I should treat some of the situations I was in with you as moments in a book. If I was writing out what you were doing, what would my reasoning have been? What would your actions be conveying? To see and work with the subtext.”

Cedar nodded when Elliott paused, clearly trying to keep a smirk from forming. “Understandable, and?”

“...” Elliott smiled and sighed. “And, perhaps like any lovesick drunken fool would, I took you cornering me in at your front door to have certain undertones that I couldn’t ignore.”

Elliott watched as a half-triumphant, half-coy smile dawned on the farmer. “You may be right,” Cedar admitted.

The emerald-haired man looked out the window. “The sun is going to start setting soon, so I’m going to head back in a bit, but-” He looked to Elliott with an unknown emotion, “Could we do more of this first?.. I was doing a lot of unnecessary thinking. Overthinking, I mean. Like, everything..” Cedar looked to the floor briefly before his gaze returned to the author. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to hash out more with you. How I’ve been feeling, or how you have been feeling, or what led to what either of us may feel was less than ideal. I don’t know, I just..”

Cedar sighed, lowering his head. Elliott waited patiently. His hand reached out to gently stroke the farmer’s arm as Cedar raised his head. “I don’t want to feel that way when I leave. Like I missed something or messed something up. I don’t want to forget to talk about it and then wonder about it at 3 am or something super uncool and unnecessary like that.”

Elliott blinked, baring a neutral expression for a moment before his gaze softened. “I don’t think you have ever messed something up in my eyes, but… I feel the same. We can clear the air for as long as you like.

—

The next morning, Cedar read Elliott’s letter. It was short and somewhat vague, but clearly apologetic and a bit nervous in tone. Much like Cedar, Elliott wanted to meet up and talk things out but didn’t want to push any boundaries, especially since he felt like he had already pushed quite a few, and in the farmer’s own home. Cedar was glad they had talked it all out.

On the 8th, the two competed against each other during the Festival of Ice. Willy won. Again. Cedar was drafted by Vincent to make a snow monster, specifically one of the super cool and specific monsters the farmer had described to him in the past. No simple snowman would do. Elliott took that time to quietly update Leah on recent events since she had asked so politely while continuing to point out the ‘look’ in the author or farmer’s eyes when they spoke to each other.

On the 9th, Elliott cooked dinner for the two of them. He insisted! The author had to redeem himself with a romantic night in. What better than sharing crab cakes, a meal the two both loved? The addition of wine? The additional critique the farmer gave on the newest turn of events in Elliott’s book? The movie that would follow?

Cedar held a page in his hands. He found himself left alone with Elliott’s work once again as the author went off to shower. Something about not enjoying the lingering scent of food on his clothes. Cedar didn’t mind, but Elliott’s absence left him with a quiet room to read in. Might as well get the head start so he had something to say when the author came back. Before long, Cedar made it to the last page of the latest chapter.

Carlisle shoved Hudson against the damp brick wall. “What are you doing!?” The man hissed through clenched teeth. “Stop babying me! Just let me handle this.”

“You can’t handle this,” Hudson began as he pulled off his tie in one swift motion. “Not by yourself, at least.” He pulled Carlisle’s arm toward him, but the other yanked it away. The motion was followed by a silent gasp of pain. “You idiot, can you cut it out? You’re going to bleed to death or something because you won’t just let me help you!” Hudson pulled the man’s arm back, and began wrapping his tie around the wound.

“We don’t have time to be playing doctor, Hudson, we need to leave.” The man reluctantly let the detective tend to him despite his words.

Hudson sighed. “We’re not going to get very far if you pass out on me. The moment your adrenaline wears off, you are going to be useless. Just stop complaining and let me think for a moment.” The detective knotted the tie in hopes that it won’t fall off any time soon. He let go of Carlisle's arm with an exhausted sigh. Hudson let his back slide down the wall, his coat riding up slightly as he went. Carlisle watched silently with mixed emotions until Hudson muttered under his breath.

“Now that they all know you betrayed them, they’re not going to let you leave easily.. You can’t reason with them, and you can’t just punch your way out. If I can’t think of something soon, I won’t be able to protect you.” Hudson’s head lowered and his face fell into his hands. The detective's long hair fell to frame his face at first, then further obscured any remaining view of it.

Carlisle had never seen the man so defeated.

A tender kiss on the cheek broke the farmer from his emersion.

“A chapter with his hair down, huh? It’s a shame it’s only because that guy practically threw him and not because he wanted to impress Carlisle with his dashing good looks,” Cedar smiled, turning to face the other as he put the paper down.

That damned T-shirt again, Cedar thought. What even was the reason Elliott wore long sleeves and button-downs and dressed so conservatively? In the winter, sure, makes sense. But every season? Unnecessary.

Elliott reached past Cedar to tuck the papers back in order, the fresh scent of soap wafting through the air as he moved. Cedar watched as the shirt fell or tugged across the writer’s torso. “Carlisle has been baring witness to the detective’s dashing good looks the most, as you know. He can appreciate them more later when they’re not in the middle of all this chaos.”

“Right, right…” The farmer’s voice trailed off. His eyes flickered between Elliott’s arms and chest.

With his work space sorted out, Elliott stood upright. He placed his hands on his hips as he looked down at the farmer. “So, what did you think? I realized that they weren’t being vulnerable enough with each other, so I figured it was time to change that.” The author’s features slowly shifted from eager to curious, then a knowing half-lidded gaze as the farmer remained silent for 5 whole seconds. It was clear that the farmer was lost in thought.

“Flawless as always,” Cedar finally replied as he crossed his legs at the ankle, leaning back in the chair. “Sorry, I just got a lot of deja-vu that I needed to work through.” He met his boyfriends gaze, a bit surprised by the author’s look. Cedar couldn’t help but smile as he followed up with a quick, “What?”

The author hummed a laugh. “Is it what I think it is? Is it this?” Elliott gave a light tug on the white shirt.

Cedar wasted no time nodding. He snaked his hands into his hoodie pocket and intertwined his fingers in an attempt to keep them off the author. “You’ve caught me,” was the farmer’s breathy reply as he stared at the author’s body momentarily before locking eyes with the taller man again. “I’m a simple man.”

“I would argue, but getting excited over a very simple t-shirt might reluctantly thrust you into that category,” Elliott chuckled.

“No thrusts would be taken reluctantly, I assure you,” Cedar replied casually while maintaining eye contact until the end of the sentence, the desk suddenly interesting to look at it seemed.

Cedar decided it was time to stand up. If they didn’t pop the movie on soon, he risked escalating things. Honestly, he enjoyed the more simple and romantic aspects of dating. It was fun, and it came easily with Elliott. The farmer wanted to savor it and not lead with his dick instead of his brain. However, as Elliott would know for a few years now, lewd verbal jabs were funny, and something Cedar didn’t plan on holding back when it was just the two of them to hear. It was the best of both worlds.

Elliott’s eyebrows shot up at Cedar’s words. The author watched as Cedar walked toward his bed and the farmer’s awaiting laptop. So entranced over something like a regular shirt? “An unexpected response, but I’ll do my best to keep your taste in lingerie in mind,” The author joked as he turned to follow the other.

—

On the 12th, letters began exchanging again.

Elliott,

The Night Market is one of my favorite things about Winter in Pelican Town. I know you’ll probably want to go, but I want to know if you’ll go with me as my date? Since we’re dating and all. And the Night Market itself is a cool place for a date. Three in a row if you’re feeling frisky.


On the 13th, Elliott replied.

My dear Cedar,

Of course! I would love to be your date to the Night Market. I must admit, I have been feeling a little, as you would say, frisky lately. So much so that I am willing to admit I’d go on a date with you every day if that’s what you asked of me. We could even hold hands. A bold move, I know. Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself?

The farmer replied on the 14th.

Dearest Elliott,

Quite the scoundrel you are… A bold move indeed. But I am not a man so easily scared. We WILL hold hands at the Night Market if you wish! But you do not need to so lewdly blame the idea on you ‘being frisky’, you can just say you’re scared of the dark and need a big, strong man to keep you grounded. Although a strong man such as myself is always in demand, I will come to your aid and your aid alone. Do not fear, Elliott. You will be safe with me.

The 15th was the Night Market. Cedar showed up at Elliott’s house at 5 pm sharp. Elliott offered Cedar his hand like a prince asking someone to dance. A quick kiss was exchanged and the two went off to explore. Elliott happily watched Cedar talk about his favorite vendor, The Desert Trader , followed by the Traveling Cart, even though her presence wasn’t as much of a spectacle compared to some other things at the market.

Cedar and Elliott entered a conversation with Leah shortly after stopping by The Desert Trader for free coffee. She talked about her plans to attend the Mermaid boat sooner than later. She enjoyed walking between all the attractions when it was darker because of all the lights.

Cedar agreed. Afterward, his eyes traveled around the dock, taking in the sights as the author and artist talked away. A moment later, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Abigail a bit of a ways down the boardwalk. She was locked and loaded with two thumbs up and a huge grin. It only took a second for Cedar to realize it must be the result of his simple P.D.A. with Elliott. Cedar glanced between Leah and Elliott as they continued speaking, lively and distracted by each other, and he looked back at Abigail with that cheshire grin and a ‘hang loose’ gesture with his free hand. The two shared a quick and sneaky laugh, but Abigail suddenly tensed and turned to face Sebastian, who practically teleported onto the scene from Cedar’s perspective.

The two spoke briefly before Sebastian held out his hand. Cedar, clearly surprised, watched as the two stared down at it for a second longer than either of them should have, before Abigail took his hand in hers. Sebastian started leading them to one of the boats at the end of the dock, and Abigail looked back at Cedar one last time with a blush and a quick wave. The farmer, mouth agape, quickly gave the girl a thumbs up before throwing his hand in the air for a wave as he smiled.

Cedar turned to rejoin the conversation happening not even a foot away from him, completely lost. Thankfully, it wasn’t for long, as Leah politely excused herself so that she wouldn’t, in her words, suck up all the time the two had for their date. Both men assured Leah that her presence was always welcomed and they were in no rush, and the three parted ways shortly after.

It was Golden Hour when the two made their way to the Mermaid boat, stopping outside briefly. The farmer had no idea what the author had said, the sentence passing over him like a fall breeze. With the lighting complementing the author’s auburn hair and creating a brilliant sparkle in his eyes, the farmer’s head was nearly empty. The only thought he had or comprehend was how beautiful he looked in that moment. With one quick glance to see who was nearby, Cedar turned to give the author a very brief yet passionate peck on the lips.

The somewhat confused and startled author was silent as he blinked and pink-tinted his cheeks. The kiss didn’t even include tongue and Elliott was breathless.

“Let's not miss the beginning,” Was all Cedar said as he tugged his boyfriend inside.

“Okay,” was the only word Elliott could manage. 

—

Midnight. Night one of the market ended with a quick kiss in Elliott’s doorway.

10 P.M. Night two ended with a slow, momentary exchanging of tongues just behind closed doors.

8 P.M. Night three of the market, not even halfway through , technically ‘ended’ with a heated makeout session against the inside of Elliott’s cabin door. Neither had an idea for how long they had been kissing. All they were sure of was that it was a welcomed change of pace from walking around outside in the cold. The faint sounds of people walking around, the music, the glow from the hanging lights as day turned to dusk; it all seeped in through Elliott’s windows.

The farmer's back was pressed against the door. Cedar’s gently wandering hands made their way under the sides of the author's shirt and across his skin. Elliott had one hand tangled in the other's hair at the back of his head, the other hand caressing the farmer's cheek as their tongues battled for dominance. The author decided to let Cedar win.

Even in the safe and serene confines of the cabin with a locked front door, it felt a little.. Risqué with some people only a few short yards away from the cabin, their voices sometimes sounding closer. Both knew they were most likely to go uninterrupted and surely unseen, yet the situation felt tantalizing.

And warm.

And then a bit too warm.

“Can I take off- Your coat?” The farmer managed between kisses before stopping. He leaned his head back against the door and tried to compose his breathing, wondering how long they had been kissing. A thin lock of dark green hair slid over his left eye, lightly obscuring his view of the other. 

“I'll do it for you,” the author breathed against the other's neck, hearing Cedar’s breath hitch in his throat. Slipping his coat off his shoulders with his hands behind his back, Elliott revealed a white longsleeve shirt. He let it slide down his arms and droop to the floor as he kissed the farmer's skin. “What about yours?” 

Cedar wordlessly tugged his own jacket off in a similar fashion, much to the author's amusement. He let the jacket fall to the floor against the door.

Elliott's hands slid to Cedar's hips, and he removed his lips from the farmer's neck.

Elliott spoke quietly as they locked eyes, “Should we move? I can't imagine you're enjoying your back against the wood this entire time.” 

“I thought you enjoyed it, since this is the second day in a row I've found myself in this position” the farmer replied, loosely draping his arms over Elliott's shoulders.

“ You kissed me when we walked in, so I would argue this was your doing today.” The author smiled. “But if we're going off of things I would enjoy, one of them is knowing that you are comfortable. So, if you are not comfortable, and perhaps, even if you are , would you be interested in us moving this activity to my much warmer and far less drafty bed ?” 

Cedar stared at the other for a moment, just taking in the taller man's gaze.  He blinked slowly before slightly turning his head to catch sight of the bed in question in the far corner. It was hidden in the darkness, the only light illuminating the inside of Elliott’s cabin was the light from the events outside. 

“Unless you want to stop here..?” Elliott's voice cut through. Cedar quickly looked back to Elliott with raised brows and a look in his eyes that told the author he read the farmer's mind wrong. 

Cedar removed his arms from Elliott’s shoulders and instead took the man's face in his hands. He gave Elliott a brief kiss and said, “Not a chance,” before pulling back, looking the author in the eyes. “Assuming you haven’t looked down recently, I’ll be blunt and say I am very much enjoying myself.”

Elliott chuckled lightly to himself. He took a step back, one of his hands leaving Cedar’s hip to gesture further into his home. “Then, my dear, after you .”

“What a gentleman,” Cedar practically giggled. He led the two over to Elliott’s bed, passing through a ray of light.

The author’s eyes scanned the slightly shorter man before him as they walked. His beautiful hair was down tonight, and it glistened as it passed through the light invading through the window. It pooled in Cedar’s black hoodie, some locks spilling out of it haphazardly. The man’s grey sweatpants, or joggers, or whatever he said they were called. They were one of two things keeping him from a certain something, and Elliott wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out. He wanted to see it. To touch it. To be the cause of the farmer’s elation and ecstasy for the evening. He just needed to hear that he could.

Not even ten seconds later, shoes were being kicked off. Cedar had pulled the author down onto the bed to continue the make-out session, and Elliott quickly found himself being straddled. The kissing started back up, slowly at first, consisting of licked lower-lips, the gentle prodding of tongues and wandering hands. Within the next minute, it became a bit more fast-paced.

With one hand against the bed and the other at Elliott’s cheek, Cedar sought to win the battle for dominance again, looking to explore the other thoroughly. The author’s fingers were tangled in the other’s hair once again, his other hand gently squeezing Cedar’s thigh. Elliott slowly removed his hand from the other’s thigh. The sudden feeling of finger’s trailing up his stomach caused Cedar to recoil from the kiss, pulling back an inch as he gasped silently. Elliott hummed a laugh, followed by a quiet and amused, “ Sorry. ”

“ Sure you are,” Cedar said under his breath as Elliott’s hand continued to explore his skin, even after he leaned back to sit up. The hand Elliott had in the farmer’s hair snaked it’s way to Cedar’s hip now that his hair was out of reach.

The author drank up the sight in front of him like a man starved in the desert. Elliott was thankful for the lights of the night market. Although not directly cast onto the farmer, their faintly emanating glow made sure Elliott could see the other enough. Enough to make out the hungry and dazed look in the farmer’s eyes, his slightly askew hair, exposed skin from Elliott pushing up his hoodie and shirt, and that clear bulge in his sweatpants. Elliott didn’t think his own pants could feel any tighter, but they did.

Cedar laughed lightly, a sweet and hypnotic sound to the author. “Saw something you liked?” He asked slyly, reaching over and behind his head to grab at the hoodie. Cedar pulled it off over his head, and Elliott watched as it caused the man’s shirt to ride up. His eyes locked onto the exposed skin, and for a second, he thought the shirt would be peeled away as well. The farmer’s waist was visible for a moment before the hoodie was off completely, and the shirt fell loosely back down his torso, catching on Elliott’s wrist. Cedar’s hair fell around his shoulders and into his face. As one hand tossed the hoodie somewhere into the void, the other reaching to push his hair back.

Elliott swallowed. “...Cedar.”

“Yeah?” The farmer replied before he tucked a hair tie between his lips, both hands moving to gather his hair together.

“Please,” Elliott breathed, not knowing if Cedar was tying his hair up out of preference or because of whatever he may have planned to do next. “ Allow me - Let’s switch places.” Elliott’s thumb rubbed under Cedar’s t-shirt and against his skin. His right hand reached for Cedar’s arm.

“ Hm? ” Cedar raised a brow and allowed Elliott to gently pull his arm, letting his hair fall back around his shoulders. His other now free hand removed the hair tie from his mouth. Cedar watched as Elliott’s hand slid up his arm and took his hand in his.

Elliott placed a kiss against the farmer’s knuckles. His other hand left Cedar’s side and went to his own against the bed so he could push himself up a into a sitting position. Now, much closer to being eye level with the farmer, Elliott reiterated. Lips brushing against Cedar’s fingers as he spoke in a low tone, the author looked to Cedar through half-lidded eyes. “ If you’ll let me , I want to take care of you for awhile.”

Cedar's eyes widened slightly, and he wondered if the other could hear his heartbeat quicken.

After a pause, Cedar sighed, shoulders slumping forward slightly.

“... Alright ,” the farmer smirked. “On the condition that you lose your pants.” 

Elliott laughed as he let go of Cedar's hand. He wrapped his arm around the farmer as he spoke. “What I want to do requires you discarding yours, so how about we both lose them,” Elliott rolled the farmer onto his back and now hovered above him. 

Cedar blinked as he found himself beneath the other man, arms at his sides and his hair strewn about. Elliott's hands were on either side of the farmer's shoulders as he smiled down at him.

Cedar’s eyes scanned down the other's face, from his satisfied smile to his chest. “Hey, so…” He shifted, moving his left arm so he could touch the hem of the long-sleeve shirt, his other hand fanning out against the center of Elliott's chest. “I have one final proposition for you.” 

Elliott stared at Cedar with half-lidded eyes, as if he had all the time in the world. “And what is that? ”  

The farmer's eyes locked onto Elliott’s lips as he spoke, and lingered for a second too long after he was done. 

“Lose the shirt first.”

Chapter Text

Elliott didn't reply with words. A chaste kiss was placed upon the farmer's cheek, and Elliott briefly thought he could feel its heat. A few moments later, neither man had pants on, the articles of clothing lightly tossed to the foot of the bed. 

The author found his spot atop the farmer once again, a knee on either side of the man's waist. Cedar swallowed as he stared at the proud declaration of lust that sought to be free of the confines of Elliott's boxers. His own erection was still hidden as well, half by fabric, half by Elliott practically sitting on top of it. The emerald-haired man's hands, lightly caressing the author's thighs, tightened his grip slightly.

The farmer bit his lip. His eyes trailed up the other's body as Elliott finally, thankfully, removed the all too conservative and dreaded long-sleeved shirt. Elliott's hair fell messily along his shoulders and partly in front of his eyes, and the shirt was dropped along the side of the bed. Cedar wondered if Elliott could feel his arousal below him. It was a moment that Cedar had arguably waited months for, and he wasted no time gluing his eyes to the others body. 

As Elliott's eyes fell to the farmer, a slow smile crept across his face along with some certified 'bedroom eyes' that caused Cedar to release his lip and refocus. He stared at the author like he was stargazing. "I love the way you look at me," Elliott cooed as his hands slowly made their way to Cedar's sides, and he tenderly and all too slowly dragged them down his ribs and waist. Cedar shuddered as he watched. The faintly illuminated smile as the author's reaction only turned the farmer on more.

Elliott slowly and carefully moved his hands below the other's shirt. He pushed the fabric up to Cedar's chest before planting kisses below the hem. Cedar laid back against the pillows, keeping his hands off to the sides as the author's hands moved down his torso. The brushing fingers and lips made their way to the farmer's abdomen. It was an odd but welcomed mix of arousing and relaxing. A sudden, small lick was given to the lower left side of Cedar's stomach, causing him to flinch at the new sensation. Elliott paused for a brief moment. His eyes did a quick once-over to check on the man below him. 

Cedar huffed a quick and quiet laugh. "Heh... You're a real tease, you know that?" A hand snaked its way to the author's scalp to tangle his fingers into Elliott's hair.

"It's called foreplay, Cedar," the author chimed, shifting himself backward so he had a clear view of the farmer's boxers. "Something you quite frankly seem to enjoy." 

Cedar gave Elliott's hair a slight tug before moving his head just enough to peer down at the author. He retracted his hand, bringing his arm up to cover his eyes before he could cum from just the sight of Elliott near his dick. "I am not about to sarcastically argue with the guy who's about to,-" Cedar paused,"-Who's about to do what I think he's about to do. So, you win this round." 

"About to do what?" Even though it was Elliott himself that asked the question, he was a bit surprised by how quickly it left his mouth without a thought. It was easily the next line of dialogue in their flirty banter, but it caused a tonal shift in the cabin. That type of question bridged the gap between banter and bedroom talk. Judging by Cedar's prolonged silence and the twitch in his boxers, he thought the same. That would be the second time in the last few minutes that the author simply said something that garnered a physically reaction from his boyfriend. If the evenings current events weren't already exciting enough, this was adding fuel to the fire for Elliott. 

Cedar didn't move as he found himself in a metaphorical corner he put himself in. "To-..." The farmer started, stopping awkwardly as his face felt hot. Elliott's thumbs began to draw circles at the man's hips,  coaxing out the rest of Cedar's sentence. "To suck me off...?" The words came out a little quieter than Cedar intended. He started to feel a little embarrassed by it, but the feeling was cut short as Elliott began to kiss his stomach, just above the hem of his boxers. 

Elliott had a hypothesis, and it needed to be tested and explored this instant. The author's hands shifted to lightly grasp the sides of Cedar's boxers. Perhaps he could give another small push, on purpose this time. "Is that what you want?" 

Cedar had not been familiar with a partner that asked about consent in a sexy way in a long time, if ever. He did not have the brain power or time to take a trip down memory lane. However, it was very easy to be sure of the fact that he had not been catered to like this in years, and Elliott was just starting. After a slight delay, the farmer replied with a simple, yet still slightly resigned, "Yeah."

Even in the dim and ever-wavering light that leaked into the cabin, Elliott could see the wet spot quickly forming at the peak of the other's boxers. Elliott wanted to tease more. To kiss up and down the farmer's length over the fabric. But his own arousal ached and his mouth yearned to taste the other. Elliott's brain almost short-circuited and he almost responded with an quick 'okay,' but he managed to keep his mouth shut long enough to find better, more romantic wording. 

"Then I won't make you wait any longer."

Cedar didn't reply with words. He simply raised his hips a little when he felt Elliott begin to tug down his boxers. A sudden kiss on his bare hip elicited a silent gasp from the farmer. Elliott was kind enough to leave it at that in terms of sudden touching. After Cedar's boxers were discarded, Elliott coaxed the other into a sitting position to remove his shirt. Cedar's hair appeared black in the almost non-existent light that reached this far corner of the room. Elliott kissed the man's lips as his hair was still in the process of falling along his back and shoulders. 

The farmer leaned back to his previous position as Elliott scooted back to his former spot between the slightly younger male's legs.

"Oh, you are beautiful," the author cooed quietly. He laid on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows as his gaze roamed over his partner's newly exposed skin. He wasted no time peppering Cedar with kisses. He started at his hips and quickly made his way to his thighs. Lifting the left one up slightly, he hooked his arm under it. Elliott sweetly brushed his hand along the outside of Cedar's thigh as he kissed the inner area. Elliott's other arm was reached over Cedar's other leg, boxing it in at Elliott's side. The author's thumb grazed over Cedar's hip and side, occasionally passing over one or two scars he had accumulated from various mining and farming mishaps over the years. Elliott's eyes flicked upward, taking note of the other's lean muscle from his abs to his chest. Finally, his gaze landed on the dazed and wanting face of his lover. Elliott was thankful that his eyes were adjusting to the darkness and blessed him with the ability to see the other's face pretty clearly given the circumstances. In the author's eyes, the other already looked like a wet dream come true, hands gripped at the sheets in anticipation for what Elliott was going to do to him. 

"I'm going to touch you, don't worry," Elliott commented quietly. A sigh of relief escaped the farmer as Elliott adjusted his position slightly, moving the hand that was at Cedar's hip to lightly brush his thumb over the base of Cedar's length. The shiver Cedar responded with granted the author a borderline unreasonable amount of satisfaction. He slowly yet swiftly took hold of the other before placing a gentle and sultry string of kisses along the shaft of the others dick. 

Cedar's breathing became uneven, and his head leaned back with his eyes shut. This build-up was a welcomed change to how he was used to having intimacy, and it was leagues better than the last year without anything other than the recent make-outs that had been added to his schedule two days ago. The little assurances Elliott added in were nice, and Cedar thought about how he could definitely get used to them. 

Elliott began with a few slow strokes up and down the shaft. "You have no idea how much I have longed to feel the weight of you against my tongue."

Oh, wow.

"I've thought about this too much, but even in this light poor lighting," Elliott kissed the tip of Cedar's shaft and he continued with slow, deliberate strokes, "You are so much sexier than I imagined."

Cedar's back arched slightly from the bed, his hands tugging at the sheets in equal measure as Elliott's breath and lips grazed the tip of his dick. It was shortly after this moment that Cedar made the fatal flaw of glancing down at his lover during a sudden pause. The two made eye contact as Elliott finished licking his lips. The author flashed the other a smile as he lined his mouth up with his cock and swiftly took it into his mouth. Cedar's head leaned back, a quiet groan escaping him as Elliott's mouth bobbed up and down his dick, slowly inching its way down each time. The farmer restrained himself from bucking his hips immediately in search for more stimulation. As two muffled voices passed by the cabin, the emerald-haired man resigned himself to focusing on staying quiet. He made the mental note of insuring that the next time this happens, it needed to be on the farm, surrounded by trees and no neighbors within earshot. He'd build a gate for his driveway to keep Marnie out, hang a 'Gone Fishin' sign on it, and tuck Shane in himself that night if he had to.


Over the next few minutes, Elliott's ministrations went from slow and experimental to confident and less predictable. The author was quick to capitalize on what Cedar seemed to like, and was quickly unraveling said farmer.

A sudden, muffled moan left Cedar as he bit down on the knuckle of his index finger. That same hand then shot down to join his other in tugging at Elliott's hair. Ragged breaths were interrupted by another arch of the farmer's back. Elliott continued to stroke Cedar as his mouth worked the top half of his dick. Elliott's mouth left Cedar for only a brief moment, moving just far enough away that Cedar couldn't reach anymore, and his hands returned to the rumpled sheets. Elliott's mouth returned to the man's inner thigh, placing another love bite that was quickly soothed with the author's tongue. With more room to move, the strokes to Cedar's dick now expanded it's whole length. His pace quickened slightly, and Cedar couldn't take it anymore.

"Fuck, Elliott," Cedar arched again, voice strained. "C'mere, I can't-" The farmer shivered, biting back a moan as Elliott's thumb slid over his tip.  "I can't deal with this much longer, let me touch you-!"  Cedar let out a silent gasp as Elliott let go off his dick for a moment. As Elliott shifted around, Cedar was finally able to see the obscene bulge and wet spot on Elliott's boxers. Catching his breath as he waited for the slightly taller man to get on his knees, Cedar repeated his breathy command. "Let me touch you." The sentence was punctuated by Cedar wrapping an arm around Elliott's neck as said man straddled and leaned over him. 

Working the farmer up to this extent with just a BJ/HJ combo was going to be a point of pride for the author for the rest of his life. Elliott huffed a quiet laugh at the other's desperation for a fleeting moment. He wasn't going to waste any time obliging when his own arousal ached so fervently. "You can do anything you want." Elliott wasted no time tugging down the front of his boxers and setting himself free. His other hand cupped the side of Cedar's cheek, and the two exchanged a very brief but passionate kiss. Cedar was the first to break away with a whimper-like sound, biting his lip as Elliott's other hand finally returned to his dick. In return, Cedar searched for Elliott's. 

As if Cedar wasn't already close, it was all downhill once he began stroking Elliott. He started slowly but then quickly worked up to matching the pace Elliott had. When one of them would slow down or speed up, the other matched the pace, and the two ended up teasing each other toward the edge. 

Cedar's other hand moved to the base of Elliott's scalp, tugging lightly at a fistful of auburn hair. "Ahh, fuck," the tug was a bit rougher this time. The groan that Elliott let out against the side of Cedar's neck sent a wave of pleasure through him that he wasn't prepared for. "You-... I'm getting close.."

The author decided his earlier hypothesis about Cedar had been answered with as much of a clear-cut 'yes' as one could get without flat-out asking. He immediately chose to use this information to push his boyfriend closer to the edge. Elliott slowed his strokes to a pace that was just above agonizingly slow compared to the previous one. He kissed along the neck of the man below him. Cedar's head arched back with a cut off whine as he wondered why Elliott wished to set such a grueling pace when he knew he was close, but he matched it  nonetheless.

"I felt that, you know." Elliott trailed kisses down the farmer's neck, stopping at his collarbone. Cedar tensed below him. "Do you like hearing me?"

The tone and casualness that Elliott decided to use should have been criminal given the circumstances, but Cedar had to admit that it was a total turn-on. He was too lost in lust and his desire to cum that he didn't care if Elliott knew that, or literally anything else. Cedar just knew how good everything felt in the moment, and he wasn't about to stop it. "Yeah, It's-" Cedar shuddered as Elliott continued to stroke his dick, now squeezing on the way up in a way that almost made the farmer think he was trying to milk the cum out of his dick. The word 'hot' was lost in Cedar's throat for a moment, and green eyes stared down at his length, watching Elliott take his time to get him to the edge. "It's hot.. Are you.. Are you close?" Cedar peeked at the other man's dick in his hand. Precum leaked over his fingers, and Cedar wished there was just a bit more light in the room. 

"Very," Elliott kissed the word into Cedar's pulse. He shifted slightly, leaning on his elbow meant he was holding himself only a few inches above the other man. Elliott stared down at Cedar, taking in the sight of a man who seemed like he could barely keep his eyes open from pleasure. "God, you are gorgeous." Elliott planted a kiss on the farmer's cheek as he picked up the pace, wondering if he could get them to finish at the same time. 

Cedar's breath hitched at the sudden increase in speed. He matched the author's strokes. "You feel.. really good," The farmer panted out, looking up at the auburn-haired man that hovered over him. His hair framed his face, and was long enough to brush and lay against Cedar's neck and shoulders. The farmer's hand at the back of Elliott's neck pulled the other closer. Their lips hadn't even met before tongues came out, and the kiss quickly turned steamy. Elliott groaned into the kiss, and Cedar faltered for a second before deepening the kiss. His hand moved down Elliott's neck and his fingers fanned out against the broader man's chest. "You're so hot, I'm.... Fuck.." Cedar's head fell back again and his eyes shut tight. "Elliott, I'm so close- Are you close?"

Elliott lightly tugged at Cedar's hair. His lips easily found a spot to latch onto on Cedar's neck once again. "Cedar," the author paused to plant another kiss. "Don't focus on me.. I'll be right behind you," he assured. Elliott placed a kiss against the farmer's skin with a groan. It was any second now, for both of them judging by the labored breaths of his partner. Elliott was positive that the moment Cedar finished he would do the same for the simple reason of getting his crush off for the first time. The 'cool' farmer was unraveling below him, a sight the author had day dreamed far too many times to want to admit. Cedar's strokes became more erratic, more desperate. They pushed Elliott to the edge as he sped up for Cedar's sake as well. It was any second now, for real, he was sure of it. "Almost there..." Elliott groaned.

With one last kiss to the base of the farmer's neck, Cedar was sent over the edge. He shook below the author as a strained moan escaped through clenched teeth. Elliott followed suit as he expected, unable to last any longer after such a sound. A shiver went through him as he tugged at the other's emerald hair, and groaned into the side of his neck. Cedar's hand fell from Elliott's chest to grab the sheets below. After a moment to catch his breath, Cedar opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. The view was soon eclipsed by Elliott moving to peel himself off the farmer. Cedar brought his hand up to the back of the other's neck, and lazily but firmly pulled him back down for a kiss.