Title-- Days
Disclaimer-- I don't own Harvest Moon...if you know what I mean.
Sum-- For many, it takes more than a day to fall in love. Gray x Jack.
Note-- This was particularly made to the Nintendo 64 game universe, cuz that's mainly the only one I've played so far XD. Enjoy!
Gray's having a bad day.
The third of spring. They had to put down one of the cows today. She was sickly and old, it was her time, and they have a large number of livestock, so they do this a lot, but that doesn't make any of the work involved at all easier.
Yet Ann still possesses the great nerve (or was it just lack of tact?) to bug him soonthereafter, claiming that she's found the perfect owner match for their current colt. It's surprising, because usually Ann is rather picky in who they give their colts to. Gray remains full of doubts--but that wasn't so unusual--as he allows his sister to lead the way to her grand discovery... And then, he sees him. Bright colors and friendly, shy smile, and all. Gray recognizes him immediately by how unfamiliar he looks: the talk of the town; the newcomer.
...So, this is him. The one who's supposedly taking over the old man's broken farm nearby. The city folk.
Gray finds himself disagreeing with Ann's view, and says as much, and Ann's shouting at him as he stalks off, but he doesn't care.
He doesn't believe a dope like that can make something of the late old man's farm, so much as raise and ride a horse well. And chances were, the guy was just there to hit on Ann, anyway.
And...
And maybe...maybe, while watching him with Cliffgard, seeing the potential in him with horseback riding...maybe Gray had been a little jealous, as well.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
It's a Thursday.
It's quiet, save for the constant rush of water rolling past, and the carpenters sawing off stray twigs and branches off trees for firewood. It's springtime, so the world is just barely awakening after a good month of hibernation. Gray stands by the river, taking in the serenity of the mountains like he always does on days off.
And he hates it. Or...maybe not "hate"... But he feels too strange and out of place on these empty, slow-paced days; it's not about where he is, more about what he's doing. Nothing. When he works, he doesn't have to think. He just does and everything happens the way they're supposed to; everything is in its place and it's because he put them there.
When he's not working, he feels... Useless? Restless?
Gray blinks, hearing the soft footfall against sturdy woodwork, and looks up to spot him. The farmer. Staring from the bridge.
The brunette returns a bewildered, almost confused gaze. And Gray realizes that the newcomer probably didn't know that Green Ranch closed on Thursdays. He had probably gone to the ranch prior, and found everything shut and locked and no one there...
Now, though, he strides towards Gray with that jovial air about him.
"I thought I wouldn't be able to talk to you today," the farmer sighs, grinning in relief.
He gives Gray a flower...
...just as Ann spots him and calls him over ("HEY! JACK! OVER HERE!").
He jumps at the sudden holler and then laughs, and then leaves Gray with a quick bid of farewell before heading towards her to bestow the same simple gift. Their voices are loud and cheerful, but distant, and blend well with the atmosphere.
Gray stares at the small yellow flower in his hand.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
There were days when he swung by, just dropping in, a quick detour and back to work. And there were days when he stayed for a bit longer because he had the time, following Gray around for no apparent reason. He talked to Ann, too, but sometimes Ann joined him and Gray would have both of them hovering about him like flies, always having something--no matter how pointless--to say.
...These days that Gray soon became aware were everyday.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
He comes by everyday.
Gray can see him entering the property now...going into the shop to buy chicken feed even though he doesn't have a chicken, to buy fodder even though he has no livestock... Now, running towards him. He was always running, Gray would note. Always rushing from place to place, as if he had too many things to get done in one day.
Some time ago, he would've brought his dog occasionally, and Gray couldn't have helped but smile a little. The first time, he was too caught off guard to bite back a snort on seeing the happy canine. How dopey the dog looked; how much he loved his owner... They made a great pair. When the farmer kept catching Gray's weak attempts at hiding a smile, he began to bring his dog every time he visited.
When Gray thinks of that, he thinks about how the farmer always used to bring just moon-drop grass. When the farmer bought his first chicken, and found out that Gray liked omelets, he started bringing eggs as well as the flowers. Gray still doesn't know what to make of that.
He just turns around as the young man approaches, hearing the feet thudding lightly on the thin grass as the dog trots along with him with a small yip or two. Gray accepts the expected egg given to him, and then accepts the flower and says that's enough. Goes back to work while the farmer goes to do the same to Ann, before coming back to Gray and talking to him.
On days when the farmer visits like this...
Gray likes these days.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
One day, the farmer mentions the name "Cliff".
Gray's first thought is of the horse, but then the whole story is explained. It's about a young man traveling with a pet hawk; he had collapsed on the farmer's property, and the farmer had fed and revived him.
Gray doesn't know why, but he feels agitated.
Uneasy. Almost irritable. Up until then, Gray hadn't really thought about the farmer's social life outside of Green Ranch. The farmer had come off as friendly and amicable towards them, but it only crosses Gray's mind now that the farmer acts that way towards everyone. The idea bothers Gray for some reason. He can picture the farmer giving the stranger that warm smile of his, laughing with the stranger, being friendly and kind to the hungry traveler...
Ann joins the conversation, then, and adds her own two cents to the farmer's tale about the man named Cliff. She tells of how she had bumped into him while visiting the farmer, tells about how rude Cliff had been, all the while with a particular expression on her face.
It's a kind of look that Gray recognizes; it's the kind of look his sister gets when she's got a crush.
Gray doesn't know why, but he feels better.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Gray had forgotten how hot summer days can be.
He leaves the barn doors open so that any built-up heat can escape, but keeps the animals inside where it's shady. Even then, every line of daylight that bleeds through a crack in the barn's wall planks feels like its own bright sun.
He does his work still (what else can he do?), just sweats more, and takes more breaths of fresh air from outside the barn. He takes off his hat during these sessions and brushes the top of his head off; no matter how often he does it, there's always the same large amount of sweat droplets that fling off his hand and hair. Then, he puts his hat back on and picks up where he left off.
And Ann is as energetic and vibrant as ever, barely taking breaks between jumping this way and that, one-upping him. When the farmer shows up, sweating as well with his breathing just a bit heavier, but his grin there all the same, she invites him to watch the fireworks with her.
"You should join us," she says to Gray.
He does, but they don't know it.
The heat is less intense at night, but still there and all around. The coldest an object could get is lukewarm, and the heat absorbed while the sun was up is still settled in the wood of the barn that Gray rests a hand against as he watches his sister greet the farmer.
They don't see him, don't even turn around, else they would've caught him looking on from his spot.
He keeps his distance, like he always has, and ends up watching them more than the fireworks. Watches them smile and point, watches them leave their mouths open in awe, watches them light the two sparklers that Ann takes out when the real fireworks are finished.
He watches and he wonders if this is what flirting is.
They were acting like they were just hanging out. Like two kids. Two friends. The mood is carefree yet laid-back. It's all fun and relaxed.
Again he wonders if this is what flirting is.
Because it looks easy.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
It's been a long day.
Especially hot, with Ann being especially irritating, and even the farmer's visit had been especially brief.
So evening strikes, and Gray leaves for the tavern.
He thinks he'll just spend a short time, alone at his table in the corner. Maybe catch a light buzz and then just go home. The plan goes halfway right without a hitch. The two other men who do frequent the same table are absent tonight and that warm, clear yet unclear feeling had flooded Gray's system. But the next thing he knows, there's a slight bark to the side of himself. When he looks down, there's the farmer's dog; when he looks up, there's the farmer, greeting him.
For a moment, Gray lets his gaze stick while his mind works slightly harder than usual to process what's going on.
He vaguely recalls the farmer telling him that he goes to the bar nightly; that was some time ago, a visit that blends well with the others, so Gray can't place exactly when he was told. He just stares the smiling face in front of him.
"Hey, look what I got," the smile says and pulls something blue and shiny and somewhat smelly from an orange rucksack. "It's a fish. Here, take it. The big ones are the best, right?"
Gray doesn't say anything.
The farmer grins. "It reminded me of you."
"..."
Gray looks at the fish.
And back at the farmer.
And then, at the fish again.
And he has no idea in hell how it reminded the farmer of him.
But he takes it anyway, and the farmer seems delighted.
They walk home together that night, the dog trailing along behind them.
Gray can't help but pay attention to how constantly their hands would bump against one another. If the farmer notices, he doesn't make any say of it; he just makes brief comment of the stars, the heat, and his new life. And though Gray notices, he doesn't make any say of it, and no attempt to stop it...which is strange. Since usually, he's very cold to anyone outside his immediate family who dare initiate physical contact with him.
When they part, the farmer flashes a last smile and waves. When Gray leaves alone, it seems darker, and even though it's summer, it feels cold somehow.
He's reminded of the fish when he goes home and he sees his father staring at him with a weird look.
"Oh... Uh...Jack gave it to me."
And somewhere along the line, the farmer has become a person. And suddenly, he has a name.
Gray makes more of an effort to go to the bar.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The sun beats down hardest during mid-day.
The rays are especially bright during waning summer, and almost blinding when reflected by a thousand ripples in the blue water. It's stunning weather, and makes the idea of diving into the ocean and swimming as far out as one could all the more appealing.
Jack is late, so once he arrives, the competition starts right away...
Later, when being ushered into this year's photograph of the event, Gray sulks; disappointed that he lost, because he loses every year, and yet he keeps coming back every year. He wonders why he even bothers, even if it is a good workout. As an afterthought, he glances over at the farmer.
Jack's grinning, disposition as bright and cheery as the weather as he raises his prize triumphantly. Like everyone, Jack's now partially dry due to the sun, though there are still droplets of sea water running along his skin and dripping from his soaked hair.
Gray doesn't know why he finds the image so appealing, and that reason alone is probably why his face doesn't turn red.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
There was a typhoon warning the day before, but it's sunny as ever.
"I'll let you in on a secret," Jack offers Gray during his visit.
And then, the farmer tells of a Goddess in a spring, and how she appears and grants a wish if one were to drop an offering into the water ("I wished for good weather," Jack explains with a proud smile. "After I saw the forecast for tomorrow.")
He tells it without expecting a reply from his listener, while still expecting the glances and looks Gray might toss at him once in a while; it's similar to how Gray's family would speak to him.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Rainy day.
It's a relieving parting of ways from summer, and an offered hand towards autumn. It also just so happens that now is when Gray finds out through his sister's friendly bickering with Jack that Cliff, the traveler, is more interested in a romantic relationship with Ann rather than a closer relationship with the farmer.
...Which was just as bad, just...better. Somehow.
After all, Gray has more control over whether or not Ann and Cliff actually happen as an item.
He thinks that he can kind of relate to Cliff, now. Chasing after someone happy and carefree...and out of reach.
It's then that Gray realizes he'd just inwardly admitted his exact feelings for Jack.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The day of the Fall Horse Races is a testy one. Especially after Jack wins.
He takes pictures with the horse and everyone's cheering for him, and the perennial grin on his face is even livelier. He arrives back in the spectator's area where he's welcomed warmly with "congratulations" be thrown at him from all directions. Gray watches, feeling his cousin and sister's eyes on his back, but ignores them. Whatever they're expecting Gray to do... Gray shakes his head. He can't say. He doesn't know what he'll do now.
And then, Jack's in front of him. Behind the farmer, Rick and Ann are exchanging edgy glances.
Gray turns inward for a moment. Does he feel anything? ...Jealousy; of course. Anguish; that will always be there.
Then, he turns to face Jack who's smiling back at him. Cheeks red from racing through autumn air, eyes wide and breaths erratic from excitement... Jack's happy.
Gray puts a hand on the farmer's shoulder, very briefly, but there's enough meaning in that to light up all of their gazes.
He says, "You did it."
He thinks...this must be love, after all. Confirms it.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
These days have been ending with dream-filled nights.
Gray curses the illusions that sleep gives him because he doesn't know what to make of them; he doesn't know what the hell to think anymore. He's confused and emotional and awkward around Jack, so much that he's begun to avoid him. Gray tries to ignore the hurt looks on Jack's face.
Ann demands to know what's going on, as if she already knows more than he does. But she doesn't. She doesn't know about his thoughts or his feelings or his dreams that involve hands, mouths, and heated skin. And she doesn't know that when Gray awakes, he's sweaty and aroused. And she doesn't know how miserable he is, how much he knows who's at fault.
And through it all, he wonders if he should have expected that his feelings wouldn't stay platonic... But he's never fallen in love before, so he never knew what to expect of it. So he sets out to find Jack and make it up to him somehow.
Gray will never forget that day he went to Jack's farm for the first time; that day he was the visitor. The farmer had looked so surprised...and then, so happy.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
For the following days, Gray is comfortable enough to just ignore Jack when the farmer talks to him as Gray rakes the fallen flakes of red, orange, yellow, and brown into an expanding pile.
Love is love, but work is another thing and it must get done.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Day by day, the dreams are taking themselves to newer levels, tagging each base and easing onto the next. Worse or better--Gray doesn't know what to label them anymore. But many lines have been blurred lately.
He used to not be able to look Jack in the eye if the dreams were particularly bad/good the night before.
But by this time, he's grown so used to it, and now it seems so natural that he can go to sleep with the slightest, most frail thought that maybe it could turn out that way somehow.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
On this day, Jack is broke. But he looks very pleased with himself.
Gray mentions the sounds of hammers and saws coming from the farm, and Jack immediately jumps at the chance to reveal that he's just paid to have wood lodge built on his property.
"Hey, Gray, when it's done being built, do you wanna come over and be one of the first ones to sit on it with me? I promise I won't go on unless you're there, too. I'll wait 'till you're done with your chores and everything."
"...Shouldn't you get back to work?"
But Gray can't turn down the invitation.
And later that night, he wonders if his blush was as obnoxiously visible as it felt in the dark, sitting that close next to Jack.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The days have grown short, the nights long, and it's always cold. Gray knows that work seems harder because of the weather, and that it is harder because of the lack of nature's resources. Jack looks exhausted.
Because, it's difficult to be a farmer when there's no produce to be paid for. And it's tough providing feed for six fully grown chickens when you don't have the money to buy it. And it's hard to be a good, giving friend when there was nothing to give. It's only now that Jack's realized he only helped this by buying the wood lodge in the fall, when he could have gotten a greenhouse. But it's too late now.
Gray knows of Jack's new schedule. He knows Jack gives away chicken eggs in place of flowers and produce that don't grow during the winter to his friends, that Jack visits very early now because he wants enough time in the mines to sell valuable minerals and be paid enough to get by; and Gray knows that there is where Jack works until he passes out.
Jack seems a little thinner now, his face a bit paler, his voice a bit softer.
And Gray still doesn't want Jack to know of his feelings, so he doesn't want to admit that he's worried. He pretends he doesn't notice. But it's hard when no one else really does.
So Gray just happens to be there with a medical herb or two anytime Jack realizes he has no more.
Gray just happens to walk past and gently bump the farmer back to standing whenever Jack sways too dizzily and loses balance.
And sometimes, Gray catches--imagines something else, something more, in those looks of gratitude Jack gives him.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Today, Jack hasn't visited.
At that, Gray finds himself panicking. He never knew how accustomed to the farmer's visits he'd become. Even his sister is a bit unnerved when she tells him she hasn't seen Jack at all that day. It drives Gray to make constant leaves from the barn to ask his father if Jack came by to purchase chicken feed, and it doesn't help each time his dad answers "no".
He calms himself, tells himself that he has work to do, that he has livestock to take care of. That maybe Jack had slept in and was running late.
Gray waits until one o' clock. Then, he dumps the rest of his work on Ann (who surprisingly accepts without grudge) and goes to Jack's farm.
During the spring, summer, and fall, the seasons added color. Now it's winter, and the farm looks especially barren. But Gray wonders if that's only because Jack isn't there to greet him upon entering. He knocks on the door once, calls out, and knocks again; he's being impatient and he knows it. Yet he felt something had to be done. Something has happened and the face he's seen everyday has become the face he wants to see everyday.
Gray lets himself in.
He's not prepared for what he sees next.
He's not prepared...
So when he finds Jack collapsed next to the table, he must have lost his mind. Instead, his body's driven by feelings, deep instincts, and panic--powerful waves of panic, and he's cradling the body by then, feeling the fever bleeding through Jack's clothes, and he's just gone gone gone, not so aware of the dog yipping around them as he is of the way Jack presses his forehead against Gray's winter-doused arm, and still that's not enough...
Gray only finds himself again--freezes--when he hears something. Something that could've been--maybe it was--it sounded so much like--Jack's voice saying "stop." It's silent now, even the barking has stopped, and Gray lowers himself closer to Jack and he can feel the more heat radiating off him and Gray knows it's that bad. He almost forgets what he's listening for until it comes:
"...stop...yelling..."
...Gray says Jack's name.
"...what...?"
And he realizes that the farmer is probably less aware than himself. A small noise escapes Jack's throat and he shifts in Gray's arms to press more of his burning face against Gray's cold-touched clothes.
Jack's dog barks once, making Gray jump, and he frowns at the canine. He makes a mental-note to find out the dog's name.
...Jack is both lighter and heavier than Gray had first estimated him to be as he lifts him to the unmade bed. Jack swallows thickly, eyebrows furrowed and he inhales shaky breaths and exhaled heated ones. Gray pauses, hand hovering just over the unconscious farmer.
The dog is pacing around his feet, whimpering worriedly.
Gray glances at him, and then back at Jack, and then starts unclothing him with unsure hands.
The overalls are the most difficult. Not only because he has to pull them off dead weight or the sweat breaking across Jack's skin and making his clothes cling to him...but because flashes of old dreams keep flooding back to him. And the horrible difference is that in this reality, Jack isn't conscious as he's stripped. Gray has to remind himself again and again that he has to take Jack's clothes off--which brings up the notion that no, he really doesn't.
In the end, he stops thinking. Just lets his hands do the work as his mind takes a back seat. And he finishes like this.
He pauses again, stare locked, body still.
Jack shivers.
Gray yanks the blankets up, then hurriedly leaves to feed the chickens.
The cold hits him hard and he shivers at the shock of it, but he knows that's not even close to the reason that he's dizzy and breathless. But he just pops his collar up to his chin and makes for the hen house.
Jack can't dig in the mines or bear gifts today, and he doesn't have a kitchen, so the eggs go into the shipment box. There are five chickens to feed with one egg in the incubator. It looks like it's going to hatch soon. And while Gray would usually think it efficient for the chick to hatch quickly, he thinks and imagines Jack would be disappointed that he wasn't there to greet and name the chick himself.
Outside, Gray tracks down the horse, which had wandered away from its stall. It's grown. Grown up happily, Gray realizes almost jealously as the horse manages to steal his hat and then whinnies as if giggling. He makes a note to find out the horse's name as well.
He sets a wet cloth over the farmer's burning forehead before leaving for the ranch. He leaves no explanation to his family--they probably already know, anyway--rolls his pillow into his thickest blanket, as an afterthought gets food for the dog, and hikes through cold winds once again to return to Jack.
There are no crops on the land, the snow makes everything appear the same, and the little shack near the entrance of the farm looks more isolated than it really is.
Gray wonders if Jack ever gets lonely on the farm, living by himself. And he wonders if maybe that's why Jack is always out and about, in town and mingling with everyone...why Jack spends so much time at Green Ranch.
The quiet doesn't go away, even as he re-enters the house; it only grows. Especially at night.
The dog is curled around his half-eaten snack, sleeping at the foot of Jack's bed. Gray sits in dull candlelight, wringing a waterlogged cloth over a bowl. Jack coughs, and Gray pulls the covers higher, up to the farmer's chin, before folding the damp cloth and placing it on his forehead. He's been doing this for hours, now. And not once has Jack woken up. If he gets no better, Gray will have to get the Potions Master in the morning... He wonders what might've happened if he never found Jack on the floor, and just went about his day. But he stops that trail of thought quickly.
What matters is that he did arrive. He lets his fingers tread through cropped brown locks...
He realizes he doesn't mind doing this at all.
Then, Gray's leaning forward; downward. His thumb brushes Jack's bangs away. He can feel the Jack's heat already, and they both exhale at the same time. He lowers down. Hot cheek against the colder skin brushing against it; Jack turns towards the source of the soothing touch.
Gray kisses him.
When he pulls away, he's the breathless, flushed one. Jack remains asleep. Gray exhales a small, breathy laugh.
He falls asleep sitting at the bedside, head rested on the farmer's arm.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The next day, both Gray and Jack wake up to Ann bursting into the home with a loud greeting and a clang as she all but slams their breakfast down on the table. Jack is slightly more coherent, and Ann makes the final decision that Gray remain at the farm until Jack is fully recovered, to Jack's uncomfortable appreciation (uneasy humility) and Gray's immediate opposition (eagerness).
"And don't worry about your chores, brother," Ann cuts in before Gray can say another word. "I've got them covered."
And he feels bad, but those days when Jack was sick... They're days Gray cherishes.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
It takes barely a few days for flowers to bloom.
Popuri comes by the ranch, now, to admire the ones Gray had--on a whim--planted. Sometimes, she tends to them for him. Jack's constantly teasing and bothering him about trying to win her over, but despite how annoying it is, Gray has long decided that the farmer's cheery voice sounds good. Especially after a week of raspy breathing, coughing, and too-quiet.
Sometimes, Gray suspects that Jack hadn't been as out of it as he thought. Sometimes, he's hopeful/stupid enough to think that Jack might remember those winter days as well...though, he most likely doesn't, and it's most likely just Gray's pining imagination that Jack stands closer now than need be and that his visits have become more and more prolonged than usual and when he playfully pats Gray on the back, his hand lingers for longer than it must.
And it's most likely that Jack had always been so affectionate and Gray had only just noticed now. It's most likely that the reason he just smiles and laughs so eagerly was because of the warm spring sun after the harsh winter; Jack had always been the ever-happy type to start with, anyway.
Though, if that's not the case, then...
But he'll leave that to another day.
Maybe then, Gray might be more social and Jack won't be so oblivious.
Gray will be able kiss him openly and the red tint on Jack's cheeks won't be from a too-high fever.
And maybe Jack won't have to live alone anymore and Gray won't have to pretend he wasn't worried, because nothing would prevent Jack from taking better care of himself with Gray there to take care of him, too.
And when Jack's stargazing and the night is cold, Gray might come up just to hold him from behind and use the chilled temperature as an excuse (but they'll both know the truth, by then).
And maybe someday, the two will share that run-down shack and be together. And they can look back at this situation and laugh about how complicated they let it blow up to be, when they were young and foolish and didn't have a clue. They'll be able to smile and say, "Yeah. Those were the days."
a/n: gah XD! had this as a WIP for sooo long!! like...YEARS. like...maybe two or three. and...maybe that isn't so long... but actually kept the intention of finishing it, too!! and, and, actually DID finish it!! WOW. gosh, this kinda makes this one wanna go back and play Harvest Moon 64 for the millionth time... kinda. but chances are, would just get too disappointed with the fact that "gay" just dunt exist in Harvest Moon uu (...yet!!)...unless you count that glitch with the mayor. but this one wants Gray/Jack XD;;!!
...actually this seems more like a drabble series than a one-shot... ...eee.
but...one thing that to notice... there's an awful large amount of Ann for a fic that revolves around Gray 'n' Jack O.o;;. it was so unintentional. but...maybe it was just subconscious; Ann used to be this one's favorite character in the game (and she's still the first-choice with marriage XD).