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Comin' Through the Rye

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Freddie had never thought himself to be a farmer, and yet there he was, sat in the field on break, drinking lemonade. Daniel made it. He did most of the cooking. He did most things, his angelic powers giving him advantages and powers and ease that Freddie could never experience, but that didn’t mean he did nothing, it just meant that his life had stability.

Like Daniel had promised, he was still safe here. No one had ever found them, they never had company. He tried to keep up with the news back in Ireland, but there was never anything about an escaped inmate, so no one was looking for him. For once he had freedom and he felt good about that.

He ate meat - animal meat only - five days a week, and the other two were vegetarian. It was implemented by Daniel but with his permission. Keeping him off meat limited the chance he would reoffend, and though with Daniel he would be protected he wanted to be a better person now.

Daniel had changed him, made him feel like a person, and though there were drawbacks to that, guilt being one of the most prominent, he was glad to regain something he lost when he was young.

“Freddie!” He heard, and he twisted to see Daniel with a smile, walking across with two fresh glasses of lemonade. “I thought you might want another, and I thought I’d come join you if that’s alright.” Leaning down, he passed the drink to Freddie, using the opportunity to kiss him first chaste but then being dragged out to something slow and sweet but passionate. Daniel was like that though, pouring everything into even the littlest of actions; it was a quality Freddie greatly admired.

Breaking away, Daniel finally plopped himself on the ground in a rather ungraceful way - also very Daniel - and laid himself down among the crop. It reminded Freddie of the time spent in his dreamscape, where they’d lay in the Irish field, staring up at the same sky every time, the same blue, the same clouds. Sometimes they’d talk the entire time and smile and laugh, and other times they’d just remain in silence; silence was never uncomfortable with Daniel.

Freddie laid down beside him being careful not to spill his lemonade. Their hands, on instinct, linked. “I should get back to work you know,” he said, though he made no effort to get up.

“You don’t need to work, you know that.”

“I do,” and he sighed, comfortable.

It was warm out, so laying out in the sun was no task. Freddie could’ve happily stayed out for hours if he didn’t get so badly sunburnt, but moments like this, moments of quiet peace, knowing he was safe and loved and valued, was worth the risk. And though at times he didn’t understand why Daniel felt the way he did about him, it was alright.