❝and when i say i'm in love with you,❞ a long pause lays between his words, so much emotion lacing throughout his eyes, ❝i fucking mean it.❞
-⚘ in which i had a smut book with 400k reads and it got deleted. now, i'm writing new, original chapters (l...
17: OF TOPS AND TRACTORS by: the_lazy_eye (ao3) r+e
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Sweat dripped down Richie's brow, trailing down the side of his face and heading towards his neck. He swiped it away with the back of his hand before it got too far. The sun was beating down hard against him. He could take a break but there was still so much left to be done.
Richie had been contracted by the Hanlon's to maintain their farm land for the summer. The pay was good but the work was hard. Richie had moved down from Maine to Georgia for the summer, as per his parent's request that he find actual work. Some in depth searching brought him to working on a farm, full pay with board and food covered up until the end of August. The Georgia summer sun was brutal compared to Maine summers. At first, Richie wasn't sure he would make it to the end of the summer. Now, half way through, Richie had gotten used to the heat and humidity the South offered.
One of the good things about this internship-type arrangement was the fact that he wasn't the only person who took residency on the Hanlon farm. First, was the only son of the Hanlon's: Mike. Mike was a nice boy, the same age as Richie. Mike had more responsibilities on the farm than Richie did. Mike did all of the manual labor the others did, planted seeds, recorded the yield, and formed partnerships with people all over the region. As such, he wasn't around as much as the others. Richie, along with other contracted workers tilled the soil, pulled the weeds, and removed any rocks from the land that could jam up the machinery.
Richie stopped what he was doing. He was in the process of pulling weeds from between the corn stalks. It was his task today to remove anything that could be a threat to the crop and it was hard work. Roughly half way through Richie had removed his shirt. It had become damp, soaking through with sweat and the dirt that floated up through the air. He had developed somewhat of a tan during the summer, the byproduct of removing his shirt while working. Richie, though, was nothing in comparison to the resident, sun kissed God that was Eddie Kaspbrak. This boy could be mistaken for caramel. It was as if the sun was meant to be absorbed into his skin. He never burned and his skin was an even shade, considerably darker than Richie could ever hope to be. Eddie came out on time every day and finished his work early. Sometimes he was tilling the fields, other days he was working on farm equipment. Eddie had a way with his hands. He could fix any broken-down machinery on the farm no matter the problem. Sometimes Richie hoped his tractor would break down simply so the Hanson's would send Eddie his way. He would come, shirtless and tan, to Richie's broken-down tractor and fix it up really good. His skin would get slicked with oil and sweat. Richie would bat his eyes at Eddie and if all went well he would end up riding Eddie into the sunset instead of his tractor.
This, of course, was just a fantasy. Eddie was not interested in him and Richie, somehow, always ended up with the newest, most mechanically sound tractor on the entire farm. There was no way Eddie would come out to fix Richie up good. He would just have to settle for pining for Eddie from afar.
