Hi all. My second HM fanfic and whatnot. Erm, right, so a few things: 1. This story is a yaoi, boy/boy, so if you don't like that sort of thing feel free to read something else. 2. I don't know if this is too explicit for fanfiction's liking, so at the chance that my story is banned for some reason, I may post it on my livejournal for all interested (filthiness intact). 3. I have no idea where this story is going or what it's really about so just bear with me here and keep reading it if you enjoy it.

Chapter 1

Blueberries

"Hey, so you're that new farm guy right?"

Takeru looked up from the haze of his drink (a blueberry cocktail, his favorite) and peered at the man sitting next to him. He couldn't recall his name, but he remembered the bright, pointy red hair and the gleaming smile from a few weeks earlier.

"Oh, yeah. My name is Takeru."

"Owen," The man held out his large hand. The shake seemed slow and fast at all the same time. Takeru turned back to his drink awkwardly, noticing after a few silent moments that Owen was staring at him.

"So farm work, huh?" Owen commented.

Takeru nodded slowly. "Yeah. Farm work. It's a killer."

"I bet it is." He was now aware of the fact that Owen was sweeping him with his eyes, making sure to take in every inch of him. He felt himself growing warm and he drained the rest of his drink, intensifying the sensation with the alcohol.

"What are you having?" Owen asked, pointing at the empty glass.

"Blueberry. It's my favorite." Takeru near whispered.

"Hey, Hayden! Another blueberry for my friend here!" Owen called, slapping the table. From the other end of the bar near the cash register, Hayden nodded never taking his eyes off the glass he was cleaning. Something in his movements told Takeru that Owen did this often.

The drink came sliding down the counter, cold and icy. Takeru grabbed it and nodded his thanks, dumping the contents down his throat. He suddenly felt very thirsty.

"So," Owen started, fiddling with the stem of his own glass. "Where do you live exactly? Something's telling me you're going to need some help getting home."

Takeru slapped a gold piece down on the table and didn't wait for Owen to follow him.

They fucked hard and slippery. Their bodies were slicked with sweat and they slid against each other with a fervent rhythm. Takeru didn't bite back his cries of pleasure and clung onto his bed post for dear life as Owen's big hands and big body screwed him relentlessly.

Takeru ignored the pain, both emotional and physical, as Owen's cock drummed the inside of his asshole. When he came he tasted blueberries in his mouth, an explosion of their sweetness burning his tongue.

Owen gathered his coat slowly, almost as though he didn't want to leave. He stared at Takeru the entire time.

"Well," He said when he was at the door, hand on the knob, looking back at him. "Guess I'll see you then, huh?"

Takeru lay on the bed with his knees tucked up to his chin. He was too drunk, too tired to say anything.

Owen stood there for a few minutes more and heaved a sigh that sounded reluctant and disappointed.

"Okay then," He replied softly.

Takeru closed his eyes as he heard the door click shut. His sleep was plagued with dreams and the constant feeling of Owen's hands gripping his waist, his breathing hot and heavy in his ear.

He avoided the bar from that night on. Any time he wanted to get drunk he went to the General store and discreetly bought a bottle of some kind of strong liquor. He never cared what. Despite the fact that he missed Hayden's blueberry cocktails, he knew he couldn't go back there again. He wasn't strong enough to face it. To face him.

Every night he drank himself into a stupor, until he passed out with all the effort of chugging down the burning liquids. The first couple of nights he started out with one or two glasses, but in two weeks he was down to drinking straight out the bottle. By the next month his house was littered with various bottles, shining with half empty insides that were amber and burgundy. It didn't take long for him to begin neglecting his farm work and the animals. The fields became overcrowded with weeds that grew long and viney up the fruit trees. Big boulders mysteriously appeared over night, stamping out the rest of his crops and making the field appear gray and drab. His animals wailed for food for nights and nights until many of them fell silent. He was too afraid to venture into the coop and barn to see what became of his neglect.

He continued to drink until he was too weak and stupid to go and make the trip to the General store. Deliveries were made at his doorstep now, silently and quickly, as if whomever was dropping off those boxes didn't want to meet the person inside responsible for causing the chaos the farm was in.

Takeru merely took the drinks back to his bed and drank and drank, until one night a bottle he hadn't even opened rolled out of his hand and crashed to the floor. His arm hung limply off the side of his bed, his chest barely moving.

Pray forgive any and all spelling errors, grammatical errors, etc. I'm kind of lazy...