Work Text:
The sun rises on another beeeautiful day.
Fit is up at the absolute ass crack of dawn, 6 AM to be exact, and he brings himself to roll out of bed by remembering that he has actual responsibilities now. As the town farmer, you really can’t mess anything up!
He starts his day off humble. Pours himself a cup o’ joe, black and piping hot, just how he likes it. Stares at the fireplace for a few moments, pondering about the meaning of life and that sort of thing (just kidding, Fit doesn’t care all that much about philosophical matters).
He glances over to the sunrise peeking over the blooming Spring trees. The clearing is calm, it’s dewy, and it’s serene. The only sounds he can hear are the birds chirping and the wind blowing. It’s night and day compared to his old corporate life in the big city, but in all honesty, Fit thinks he prefers this life better.
Hacking down trees, talking to the townspeople, watching the sun rise on his rickety lawn chair, spending every day with his family, and fishing all fucking day.
Speaking of fishing, that’s his first stop. He walks down to the town river and pulls out his beloved fishing rod. By now it had already accumulated numerous scratches and scraps along the wood and plastic, which only showed that it was a well-loved tool. Fit wastes no time in hooking on some bait and tossing it into the river, waiting for the catches to flock to him. He hums to himself a tune that he heard on the radio once and thinks about his plans for the day. Today is a bit of a lazy day. He’s planning to fish and then visit some parts of town, but there’s nothing wild going on today. Fit is grateful for that, though. He loves to be lazy and bum around from time to time, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that!
By the end of it, Fit has a sizeable amount of fish. Good enough to give his son a nice seafood meal, and enough to bring over to Pierre’s General Store as well. Usually, he would charge a pretty penny to sell his fish, but he lets ‘em have it for free sometimes because his boyfriend happens to work there. And, well, Fit would do anything for his boyfriend. A bit cheesy, but completely true!
The familiar ring of the bell tinkles as Fit makes his way into the store. He arrives a couple of minutes right before they’re supposed to be open, but, hey― that’s the benefit you get from dating the employee.
“Fit!” A sweet voice chirps from behind the store counter. Pac is dressed in his work uniform, a tidy white collared shirt topped with a black cashier apron. He has the sweetest smile on his face and Fit couldn’t help but grin like a bastard, too. Pac waves him over with a gesture of his hand, “I was going to say good morning to you before I left, but you were out like a light, you know?”
Fit sets down his bucket of fish on the floor, “I was?”
“Yep. That’s what you get for being up so late,” Pac shrugs.
“Well, I am, truly sorry for that,” Fit leans against the counter, staring dreamily at his boyfriend ahead, “buuut, at least you can give me my morning kiss now. You won’t have to deal with my morning breath.” He grins smugly.
Pac rolls his eyes, but in the most endearing way possible, and Fit’s smile grows as he leans into the kiss. The two of them are both grinning like crazy and on the verge of bursting out into giggles, but they manage to hold it in for long enough to share a gentle, chaste morning kiss. And after they separate, with their foreheads pressed against each other, they share a laugh.
Pac is the first to speak up. He whispers, “maybe you’re right. Your morning breath is sort of bad.”
Fit gasps dramatically, “hey, you wanna talk about bad morning breath? We should talk about yours, too!”
Pac bursts out into another round of laughter, and Fit really can’t help but snort and giggle as well.
Pac glances at the wall up on the clock, “caralho, it’s time for my shift!” Pac is still giggling as he’s jumping over the counter and pushing Fit out the door. “I’ll see you at home, okay?”
Fit manages to sneak in a cheeky kiss on the forehead before he ultimately gets shooed out of the store by his boyfriend, and Fit can’t wait to see him back at home tonight. If Ramón wasn’t out too late doing whatever his tween heart desired, they could have a nice, family dinner. Fit’s already daydreaming about what he’s going to cook. Perhaps he’s going to pick up some ingredients from the general store later in the day. Some may say it’s a necessary grocery store run, and some would say it’s just an excuse to see his boyfriend during work hours. Fit’s neither confirming nor denying this one.
The day goes by as normal. He spends most of it working away at the farm, and truth be told, he had to stop a couple of times to wipe the sweat off of his eyebrows. As the season is slowly transitioning from Spring to Summer, the temperature is getting hot. And he can’t help but break out a sweat or two from being under the beaming sun all day. It feels almost like a gift from the heavens whenever a nice, chill draft picks up.
But, no matter how hot it gets, or how heavy the workload, Fit wouldn’t trade this life for all the money in the world. As long as he gets to come home to his boyfriend each night, as long as he gets to sing a lullaby to his son each night, as long as he gets to live and breathe and smile ― each passing hour is worth every ache in his muscles.
After a long day of nothing but honest work, Fit treks to the general store to walk with Pac back to the farmhouse. They talk about their lives, comic books, rude neighbours, nice neighbours, songs, movies they can rent, chores, their favourite flowers― and, honestly, Fit can listen to Pac talk all day if it was possible. It’s late enough that the crickets start chirping and the breeze picks up a little bit. The sun is just below the horizon and, thankfully, it’s still light enough to see where they’re going.
It doesn’t take long to get back to their house. It’s a small town.
But when they do arrive home, there’s a cat sitting on their porch.
Pac is the most cat person cat person that Fit has ever met in his life, so his boyfriend wastes no time running over to the small animal and crouching down to its height.
“Awww, gatinho!” Pac gushes, reaching a hand over to pat its head. “O que você está fazendo aqui?”
It’s not like Fit dislikes cats. He doesn’t! Though, if he were to choose, he would probably adopt a dog.
The cat on the porch is pure white, like a blanket of snow. The left eye is yellow, and the other, blue. It’s a beautiful cat, he can’t lie. Fit can’t stop staring at it, and not because it’s pretty. The cat seems to be staring back as well, with something so uneasy Fit can’t pinpoint. There’s something up with this cat, and Fit’s guts are twisting trying to figure out what was wrong.
The world goes silent. He’s laser-focused on the cat, and Pac’s voice drowns out into muffles.
There is something wrong with that cat.
“Fit! It doesn’t have a collar, let’s adopt it! What do you think we should name it?”
. . .
There is no sun down here.
Fit wakes up coughing. Sweat drenches the back of his shirt, making everything sticky and unbearable. His arms and legs ache like never before, possibly from sleeping for the past week on a solid, rugged surface. There’s a lingering taste of iron in his mouth.
He blinks his eyes open, but there’s nothing to see. It’s rock and dirt as far as the eye can go, with piles of rotting corpses as decoration. There’s one body, half-eaten, right beside him.
There’s blood on the walls, there’s blood on the floor, there’s blood on his clothes, and there’s blood on his hands.
There is so much blood on his hands.