Work Text:
"We've run out of fertilizer..." Titch said to himself while doing inventory. Normally, this was Phillip's job, but the man was out on holiday (he would not stop sending the work group chat photos and videos of the various sights, restaurants, and comedy shows he saw).
Titch checked a box on his clipboard, already planning his run to the shops later that day. Before he could move on to the next item upon his list, an arm wrapped itself around his waist.
Ah.
"Someone's up early..." Derek muttered into Titch's ear.
"Well, I've got Phillip's tasks to do, so yes, I'm up early." Titch turned his head to face Derek to the best of his abilities. The latter, in his attempt to hold the waist of the much shorter man, was crouched weirdly, limbs seemingly defying the laws of man. Titch liked that about him - it was weird, but in a way charming.
"I could take over his tasks, love! You shouldn't push yourself this hard." Derek exclaimed. Titch's mouth twitched.
"Derek..."
"What? ...oh. Oh. My bad. I just..." he trailed off.
"We agreed that was a one time thing, alright? No pet names, yes?" Titch hated seeming upset with Derek, but he had... priorities. Right ones, debatable, but priorities nonetheless.
The arm around his waist slowly disappeared. "Yeah. Yes, sorry. I'll try harder next time." A smile spread across Derek's face, but it wasn't fooling much of anyone. Titch didn't want to push the situation any farther, and tried to find a way out.
"I, erm. I'm running to the shops. Do you need anything?" He asked.
"No, I'm- we're okay."
"...right."
The shops weren't too far down the road, so Titch opted for walking. Walking always helped clear his head. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to push out the thoughts that yelled at him, yelled at him for refusing anything Derek tried to give. He shook his head, and made his way into town.
The town itself was quite peaceful, kids playing football, adults shopping, couples having drinks at overpriced Cafes. It was nice. The supply store was only a few buildings down the road, so Titch should have no problem getting there, should being the keyword there.
A man leaned against a lamp post, eyeing Titch carefully. Titch, uncomfortable by this unwanted attention, turned his eyes away from the man, trying to avoid whatever the hell he was about.
"Ah, bonjour monsieur!" the man called anyway. The French accent caught Titch offguard, and on instinct, he turned to look at the man. "What a fine day we are having, non?"
"I... suppose it is."
"The recent rain has been great." the man continued, making his was towards Titch. He eyed the blond up and down, slowly. Titch felt himself start to become flustered. What the fuck?? He never got flustered.
"Y-Yeah. Great for my crops," Titch mumbled, eyes looking anywhere other than the man.
"Crops, you say? You're a farm worker?" Titch nodded, and the man smiled. "Oh, how I love a man who works..."
Titch chuckled nervously, internally cursing the heat rising to his cheeks. "Haha... uh, thank you?"
The man grabbed one of Titch's hands, kissing the knuckles lightly. "The name's Xavier. And yours?"
"Uhm, Titch. My name's Titch."
"Titch... it sounds lovely with a French flair, does it not?" Xavier winked. He fuckin' winked. Titch couldn't decipher the feeling in his stomach, but didn't enjoy it.
"Look, I-" Titch began before Xavier hushed him.
"Titch, I apologize if this is too forward, but are you seeing someone right now?" Xavier questioned. A pang of hurt shot through Titch's heart.
I mean... it was a one time thing. That's all it was, right?
"I- It's complicated?" Titch muttered in lieu of an answer. Xavier narrowed his eyes and kissed Titch's knuckles again.
"Oh, complications have never stop Xavier." He dropped Titch's hand and began carressing the side of his face. Titch swallowed, desperately trying to look elsewhere. Xavier guided his face back to his, with a smile. "Never."
In that moment, Xavier pulled Titch's face towards his, a mere couple of centemeters between them. Titch's breath caught in his throat. "Is this alright, mon chere?" Xavier asked quietly. Titch, caught in the moment, nods.
Xavier closes the distance between the two. Titch can't help but enjoy it - it felt so wrong, but so right. His hands had minds of there own, moving slowly over the other man's chest. Xavier chuckles softly in response.
After a beat, Titch pulled back, removing his hands from Xavier's chest The latter's shirt was now askew but... damn, did he make it look good. Titch's face is a shade of red that one only thought was possible from a sunburn, but here we are. Xavier grins. "See? What did I tell you?"
"I-" Titch's eyes caught something, something peaking out from under Xaviers shirt. A symbol of some kind?
Oh. Oh no.
"I-I'm sorry, is that-?" Titch began. Xavier looked down, trying to figure out what Titch meant. Titch pointed at the other's chest.
"Oh, you mean my Nazi symbol?" Xavier asked. Oh god fucking dammit. Titch felt the heat leave his cheeks.
"Fuck that. No, I- no. Goodbye." Titch muttered, making his was back up to the farm, not caring about the fertilizer anymore. Xavier called something out, but Titch was already out of earshot.
God. Not only were his feelings for Derek complicated, but now he also had conflicting feelings for a Nazi Frenchman? Titch wanted to instantly hate Xavier, but his heart just wouldn't let him. Fuck, why did he have to be hot?
Titch approached the farm, and paused. He took out his phone, and fired out a quick message to the work groupchat.
'I feel a bit ill, so I'm going to lay down for a bit.'
Almost instantly, a reply came in. From Derek. Titch couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face.
'okay!! rest up <3'
Titch sighed, dropping the smile. Why are his feelings like this...