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The wind blew at your dress as you stared at the fence opposite you, the gaps wide enough to use as a way to hoist yourself up. A curious nature was always a dangerous one your mother would whisper but you just couldn’t help being curious, not when the fruit over the fence looked so much riper than yours. You shouldn’t be greedy and just accept the ones that you have grown. No one was home, at least it looked like that. The window that overlooked the garden always had the curtains drawn shut, the swing chair on the back porch had a thin layer of dust from its lack of use. You had shown at the old fence a few days in a row, the strawberries turning a brighter red each time. Surely they wouldn’t care if you stole a few? The white buds that laid around them signalled a new batch coming in.
If it wasn’t for your grandparents constant mention of the man that resided here you would have assumed it was abandoned. You always thought it must be lonely living in a farmhouse this big, the green of his own garden stretching just as far as your family’s. Your boots notched on the fence perfectly giving you the stability you needed as you began to climb over. The wind whipped away at your hair, the sun gave you an angelic glow.
At least that’s what Leon thought as he watched you from his bedroom window, his form hidden in the folds of the curtain. His coffee was as bitter as he could make it steaming in his hands. He wouldn’t confront you, he never has not in the many years he's watched you do this. Not when in a few days you would come back down to the fence with your small basket containing a book and some of those mouth–watering cookies and he got to watch someone live freely without the horrors that haunted him.
Leon never knew what caused him to grow the fruit. Perhaps it was the craving of something sweet in his seemingly bitter life or maybe it was just to see your curious features every summer to see if the plant had made it through the harshness of winter. Leon’s years of service had dwindled, his aging body no longer fit enough for whatever they wanted him to do. Which allowed him to finally nurture the life he thought he deserved, the simple dream he imagined for himself all those years ago.
The farmhouse was always a part of this dream of his, the expansive land always seemed like the perfect ending and start to family life. Since he moved in, your grandparents helped him get settled quickly. The older couple were innocent in their teaching to help him learn how to repair everything. Leon offered what labour his body would allow nowadays as a thanks to their warmth. It was then that first summer he saw you.
This sweet ray of sunshine that ran through the blades of glass like you were in the sound of music. Every colour of dress looked good on you, your hair always pulled in styles that frame your face perfectly. Too bad he respected the kindness of his elder neighbours to do anything about it. Your youthful features told him it was wrong, his darkened ones were too dangerous for yours. His touch would surely taint you, corrupt you. So he settled on his observations.
It didn’t take much brain power for him to figure out that you were afraid of being caught. Not when you held the berries in the skirt of your dress staring at the kitchen window. If only you were smart enough to look up, then you would see him. He didn’t have the heart to stop you from doing this. Not when it kept that gap in the curtains open allowing the single ray of sunshine to spread out on the floor of his bedroom in his otherwise shadow of a home.
“Not stealing Leon’s strawberries again are you?” Your grandmother spoke from the kitchen doorway. You had finished preparing them for the cookies, licking the syrup that they created as you sprinkle them with sugar. “Do you think he would mind? I never asked but all the curtains were drawn again” You spoke turning to face her. It felt like home here, like you belonged to help them out during summer. Your boots waiting at the door for the next adventure. You had long since swapped the summer dress you wore earlier to the lounge clothes you would normally wear at home. At least ones your elders would approve of.
“I don’t even think he eats them himself,” she laughed as she stood next to you. “Perhaps he just grows them for you, he lives alone after all”
The idea of him doing this made you blush, you weren’t sure why. If it were true the action was kind and it almost made you feel guilty for your actions. You turned your face away from her instead, willing yourself to focus on the cookie dough that you were currently rolling out in small balls and placing them on the baking tray. “I’m sure he doesn’t, we’ve never met and as far as I know he doesn’t know I’m the infamous thief” You awkwardly blubbered out. “I guess he must think it’s a pretty big rabbit then since they steal so many at a time” She laughed, her hands held out towards the bowl, washed and ready to help you with the baking process.
It was moments like this that you enjoyed, the simplicity of it reminding you of the true home you craved. The bed they provided was always soft and warm, the sheets smelling like the fresh air that would filter in throughout the day. It was an escape for you, the life you always dreamed of but were never sure you could sustain on your own. The six weeks were a countdown of your daydream ending. The stark reminder that reality was close to hitting you in the face and you would have to wait three seasons for your return. It was always bittersweet. Moments like these will always be cherished, especially as you chatted about anything and everything you could whilst the cookies baked. Their smell fills the room.
“I should thank him one day for growing such great strawberries, I wonder how he does it” You laughed as you took a bite from one of them now they were finished. “He’s home more often than you think, love. I think he would like to see who stealing his strawberries, maybe he’ll give you some tips for yours”
One day you’ll be brave enough to walk up his driveway instead of over the fence with some of your infamous treats. To put a face to the name that was spoken so commonly in this household. The image of him you formed in your mind was good enough but there was always that lingering curiosity to see if it would match.
You could see the farmhouse from your bedroom whilst you began already mapping out the spot you’ll sit at tomorrow. The sun setting gives the sky a red glow. It was always your favourite time of day watching the foxes weave through the longer grass, the deer making a fleeting appearance as they ran across the fields. It wasn’t like the city you would have to return to, the sky barely visible amongst the smog of the industries.
The basket you always took was ready at your bedroom door filled with your latest read and the dress you had picked out hanging neatly above it. A weekly routine for you at this point – it has been since the first week you arrived. You enjoyed the sun on your skin, the smell of the fresh grass as you laid across it. Despite enjoying your time here it often felt lonely, you wished for a sibling or someone to enjoy the outside but no they were far too busy now to continue this tradition. They didn’t care for the open space like you did or how good it felt to be off the grid for a few months.
The dew drops darkened the leather on your boots, the blades of grass leaving small thin lines as you waded through it to that one spot you wanted. However, today felt different, like something had shifted in your routine. Not necessarily something bad, just different. You paused allowing the soft breeze to cool your skin, it was only then that you spotted the normally empty swing chair now occupied. You stood frozen watching the wind swipe at the brunette, his features calm…serene. When he finally met your eyes he smiled, a toothy grin that suited his face. You gave your own shy one back before returning to your previous task.
You faced away from the direction of the wind, pinching the blanket at the corners as you let the wind straighten it out. Moving the basket to pin the fabric down, all practiced movements. Careful and methodical to ensure your skin never touches the damp grass. Your dress was blush pink today, it suited you. It was one of his favourites, the fabric laying delicately over your skin with small frills at the hemline. You looked like a princess, something that he shouldn’t disturb. He shocked himself today when he sat on the swing, the hinges creaking with his weight.
Leon bought the swing with the intention of watching his family run around as he sat on it, drinking the bitter coffee he subjected himself to with his partner in his arms. It was what he wanted but it never happened and perhaps it never will. Maybe he was always made to be the fun uncle to his friends' children. His large house entertaining them – that was if he ever invited them over. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to approach the fence today, to finally introduce himself to you. Compared to you he seemed undressed, like some peasant trying to introduce themselves to a princess.
You didn’t pay attention to the sound of the fence moving, or the shadow that formed over your book as he stood above you. Perhaps you had chosen to sit too close to the fence today. “So you are my strawberry thief I take it?” He chuckled, his voice horse from not talking to anyone in days. He smiled softly when you blushed and looked up before giving a shy nod. Leon watched as you moved to sit on your knees, giving him your full attention. Your eyes drifting upwards slowly until finally meeting his face. His eyes were tired but held the most beautiful colour of blue, his lashes were long and thick as he blinked. The stubble coating his cheeks suited him. “I am” You finally replied.
Leon’s head dropped slightly as he chuckled at the timidness of your voice, his posture was relaxed as he leant up against the fence; coffee mug still held tightly in his hands. “Do I not get a sample of what my produce gets turned into?”
It was weird to you, with the way your grandparents describe Leon you always assumed he was a lot older than he came across. His form was strong, you see that he had put in effort to get it like that. His job was never mentioned, your grandparents cared little of how he obtained the money to even own the house. Everyone was subjected to their secrets you supposed yet you still craved to learn his. You looked at the scars along his hands as you passed him a cookie; each one holding stories you now felt eager to learn.
The fence is now a barrier between the two of you, the sun shining down on his hair allowing the few blond strands he had left glow like natural highlights. The tiredness was evident now you were closer also spying the crows feet that formed as he smiled at you. You found yourself waiting eagerly for his thoughts, maybe if he thought that they tasted good then he wouldn’t get mad at your trespassing for the sweet fruit. Somewhere inside of you now craved for his approval or praise on the taste.
The low groan he let out once he had taken a bite shouldn’t have affected you the way that it did. Your thighs pressing together slightly to ease some of the tension. “These are so good, your grandparents are right. You are a good baker” He complimented, scoffing the whole thing as if you might take it away from him before he got the chance to finish. You beamed at him, eyes twinkling at the compliment and approval. The sight caused him to pause, to scan over the softer features you held. It was only then he realised how beautiful you actually were.
How was he allowed to be in the presence of such beauty? He barely deserved this house, let alone to be standing here in front of you. Part of him wished to invite you over the fence, to greet you in the house. Host a dinner with you. Leon knew the state of the house wasn’t acceptable to you, shame filling him with the idea of you even seeing it. Instead he thanked you once more before bidding you a good day and heading inside. Leaving you to your peaceful afternoon.
However, this time he left the back door open allowing the summer breeze to blow inside along with the sun.
It wasn’t until a few days later that you saw him again, only this time he was in the living room of your grandparents house. His posture was relaxed as he spoke to them, leaning back slightly in the chair one leg leant over the other. “Oh honey! You’re awake, Leon has left something in the kitchen for you” Your grandmother smiled, a wink following shortly as she turned to look at you. With a nod of your head you turned to walk to the kitchen where a tupperware container of strawberries laid. A post-it note on the top with your name neatly written.
“Figured you could make a batch of cookies with these ones? I picked them today” Leon said from the doorway.
You turned to face him, smiling brightly once again. He was leant against the doorframe, his eyes scanning your form. “I’d be happy to, they are the fruits of your labour after all” You replied. Leon chuckled softly, nodding slightly. “I suppose they are”
“I’d be happy to do it for you though, I can bring them round tomorrow afternoon?”
It was now his turn to smile brightly before nodding. With that he left you to resume your task, returning to his spot in the chair as your grandparents spoke to him about their plans for harvest season.
You took greater care in the making of his, each strawberry cut perfectly. The sugar left to marinate slightly longer. It was cute the way you sat in front of the oven, observing them through the slightly browning window. They had to be perfect, Leon didn’t deserve anything less than that. Besides you felt like you owed him this at least.
You knew the nerves were high today as it took you longer to pick out the dress. Each one felt unworthy to be worn in front of him. A pile of dresses were now left to crease in front of the wardrobe as you worked your way through them until you found the one. The milkmaid dress was a rare one for you, not yet worn this summer despite the way it clung to your curves as you tightened the back. The front extenuating your breasts perfectly whilst keeping some modesty. You allowed your hair to fall naturally today, small wisps of it framing your face after all it wasn’t too windy. You weren’t sure what compelled you to look good today, the outfit was nothing unusual. The worn brown boots still found their way on your feet, the heels clicking slightly on the drive as you began your journey to his front door. Your basket clutched tightly in your hand as if it was some precious cargo.
Leon waited at the kitchen window, waiting to spy you sauntering down the hill again. It made him jump when you knocked on the door, it wasn't your fault you did it slightly too loud for him. The bangs echoing around the empty house. His brain short circuited for a moment as he tried to calm his heart rate down. Breathing in and out with one hand clutched to his chest the other gripping the counter. When he eventually did open the door he spied you rocking on the balls of your feet. The dress swaying with your movements. You gave him another one of your infamous bright smiles; your hands holding out the basket of goodies to him. “Special delivery?” You joked.
Fuck, you were so cute. Your cheeks darkened in colour as he stepped aside to allow you to enter. For the first time in months the curtains were all open. The sunlight bouncing around the space eliminates the darkness in every corner. His shelves were filled with trinkets and medals, his couch a rustic brown leather one with seats so plush you knew you could curl up in them. It was basic, something you assumed a man of his age to decorate like.
The kitchen is filled with the basics, enough for someone living on their own to get by. He set the basket on the kitchen island, a mug of tea already brewed waiting for you. The mug was cute, decorated with small flowers. It was clearly a gift from someone, his cup didn’t match. Instead adorned the words ‘NO.1 Uncle’. “I’m excited” He chuckled, unwrapping the basket to get out the tupperware container. A pink post-it note on the top with his name in cursive writing. “Nice touch”
You watched as he took a bite of one, the crumbs catching in the stubble and in his cupped hand he moved in a poor attempt to catch them. He let out that same low groan as the other day, his eyes shutting slightly as if the action made him savour the taste further. It looked like you had touched the front of his jeans, your cheeks heated up with the imagery. Instead, willing your mind to focus on the warmth of the mug you cradled. “Somehow they are even better than I remembered” He chuckled, already reaching for another.
Your cheeks flushed at the compliment smiling against the rim of the mug as you brought it to your lips. “Seriously, did you do anything different?” He asked, prompting you to finally speak. Hoping that you would eventually relax into the chair, perhaps next summer you would grace him with your presence more. He was in dire need of company after all and somehow he felt like you needed the same thing.
“I only added some more sugar, perhaps you just need a sweeter pallet” You teased, before taking a bite of your own cookie. Sugar dusted your lips, the juice of the berries giving them a slight shine like a natural gloss. You watched as his tongue swiped over his lower lip, his eyes boring into yours. He was watching for something you weren’t quite sure of. You watched as his hands flexed around his mug, relaxing and then contracting again. His eyes suddenly dazed over before they met you once more. “Are you okay?”
It had been years since someone had asked him that, it had been years since he isolated himself to these simpler days. He was sure most of his friends would have thought he must have died, his phone left uncharged and on the coffee table. The only thing he didn’t dust for your arrival. He craved your touch, to taste the sugar that still lingered on your lips. It was wrong of him to have these desires but it felt right in his soul. It felt like a reward was finally being granted to him in the form of your soft fingers over his scarred hands.
Leon didn’t deserve you. Not your attention, not these cookies, the kindness you offered as you directed his head back to you. It was then you saw the man your grandparents cared for, the lonely broken one that slipped through small cracks. That only wanted to help and protect people. To be useful to someone in a way that didn’t involve violence or blood. That was why he grew the strawberries every year, to see you smile as they greeted you in a bright red. He knew it made you happy.
Maybe that was why you leaned forwards. Your hand cupping his cheek, the stubble that coated it pricking into your skin as you kissed him. You felt the tension fade when your lips met, the sugar and crumbs that coated your lips adding to the texture. His tongue swiping, prodding for access to taste you further. His hands found your arms, tugging you closer without yanking you out of the chair. Your hair tickled the corners of his face as his fingers weaved through the strands. You tasted like his dream, like his future he wanted. You were sweet, so sweet. Brightening his pallet from the bitterness he subjected himself to.
Your foreheads met when you pulled away, the sun shining brightly causing you both to close your eyes. “We don’t have to– I’m sorry…” He mumbled before you cut him off with a peck. His eyes meeting yours again, this time vulnerability laced them. Longing for a connection. “I want to”
“You can’t…not me. You don’t deserve my mess”
His words didn’t make sense to you, perhaps you should have waited longer before you got off the stool giving you both a chance to get to know each other better. You didn’t though, instead you found yourself now standing between his legs to look at him, the pain that lingered in his soul now visible to you. “I make a mess when I bake and get something delicious out of it.”
It took him a moment to process what you meant, his eyes scanning you again before finally nodding. His frame towered yours as he dragged you further into the house. The stairs creaking under your weight. The tour was brief, informal as he dragged you to his room. Part of him wanted to guide you to the guest room instead, the sheets in there weren’t tainted with the sweat of his nightmares. It was like you knew which one his room was, the curtains still drawn except for that small gap.
He was gentle when he brought you to the edge of the bed, his lips trapping yours into a needy kiss. You felt his hands run up your sides until they reached your shoulders where he began to pull away at the straps of your dress. He broke the kiss to savour the taste there, sucking softly at the nape of your neck. Inhaling your fresh scent, the sweet vanilla suited you. Your own hands teased the hem of his shirt, silently waiting for his approval to remove it. Part of him wanted to shake his head, to keep the red lines that decorated his skin away from your innocent eyes but for this work. To get what he needed, you had to see.
“They’re ugly I know”
You hadn’t expected him to be insecure, to hate the stories you were fascinated to learn since you saw them upon his hands. His breath faltered as you shook your head before leaning in to kiss each one, it didn’t matter if they were faded. “Not to me”
Not to you?
He found comfort in that as he cupped your face, directing your attention back to him. His blue eyes boring into yours. “You are so sweet, it’s cute how fitting it is”
Leon began to unlace the dress, watching as the fabric loosened around your body until it fell on the floor at your feet, leaving you in just your underwear. Your fingers worked on the belt, the clash of the metal on the floor made him flinch slightly. He didn’t have time to calm his brain, to count down in his head like before; not when your fingers moved along the outline of his growing bulge. Feeling his cock thicken beneath his boxers. You smiled at the low groan he let out again, “I love that sound”
He pushed you against the bed, watching as you laid back. Your legs spread eagerly for him showing off the darkened colour of your underwear. “So wet already? I bet the taste is better than any of your cookies and sweeter than any fruit I could grow for you” Leon spoke as he crawled up the bed. His arms rested either side of your head as he hovered above you, hiding you in his shadow. You smiled at him, shaking your head slightly before pushing him to lay on his back. He needed to relax, to get the attention he’s carved for so many years. A chance to escape the shadow he claimed to bring.
As the afternoon changed to evening the breeze picked up, blowing the drawn fabric of his curtain open. The sun flickering over your body as you straddled him. “You deserve to be happy Leon, everyone does” You whispered in the shell of his ear. Your teeth grazed his lobe before kissing against his pulse point, moving the pressure down until you reached his collarbone. You watched as your marks blossomed along his skin. Each line of raised scar being covered by you and your claim. “You deserve this after your years of service – you earned those medals on your shelf”
Each praise caused him to groan softly, his hips lifting to meet yours. You looked between the two of you, smiling at the darkened spot on his underwear. “Please”
His beg was simple, one word but his voice cracked holding emotions you weren’t sure you could comprehend yet. You would grant him this moment of escape, of pleasure he was worthy of taking. You moaned at the sight of his cock as you finally freed him. The tip glistened with the steady stream of pre-cum he was producing. You smirked at his whimper as you ran your finger over his head gathering it before bringing your finger to your lips. Sucking softly on the taste of him. Leon’s cock jumped at the sight, the needy cock begging for your attention once more. You removed your underwear, the fabric discarded in the pile of clothes at the bottom of the bed. Leon had done the same, his thighs clenching underneath as he prepared for your warmth to encase him.
For the connection he’s craved for so long.
He moaned as you sunk onto his length, your walls already fluttering beautifully around him. His hands landed on your hips gripping at the flesh softly only tightening when you began to move. You felt like heaven, the sun giving you that same angelic glow he watched from his window. Your breasts bounced with your movements, your nipples hardening begging for his lips or fingers. Who was he to deny them?
You cupped the back of his head as he captured one of them, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud as his fingers tweaked the other one. You felt each exhale he made, the air escaping over the soft mound. His name sounded like music as it left your lips in breathy moans. You deserved to be worshiped like this, like the goddess the sun painted you out to be. His house was bright again, the corners rid of any lingering cobwebs. The porch swing was used again, his skin actually felt the warmth of summer in his own leisure and not yard work.
He felt you clench, your rhythm faltering as your core tightened with need. Your clit throbbed against his happy trail. Your thighs tighten around his hips. He smiled as you threw your head back, your nails digging crescent marks in his shoulders, scraping new lines over the old ones. “Come on sweetie, cum for me please” he begged, helping you move at the speed you needed. You felt his cock twitch inside, stroking that spongy spot.
He begged for your release once more before it flooded through you. Your head falling to his shoulder as your chest heaved. Leon moved you both, pinning you against the sheets with his own set of needy thrusts. The pleasure tightened his balls as his release grew closer. “So perfect” He whispered against your skin, claiming you with his set of marks. Nipping at the soft skin of your breasts. You whimpered at the overstimulation, the sound falling effortlessly off your lips as he brought you to another orgasm. He groaned deeply as you milked him, sucked him closer inside. Your legs trapped him, holding him in place as you pressed into the swell of his ass.
Your eyes twinkled brightly as you met him again, nothing but acceptance and pleasure lingering in them. A silent devotion to love him. He groaned once more before he spilled himself inside of you. His chest heaving breaths that met your own. Neither of you moved, trapped in this moment as his warmth spread inside you. His world was smaller, reduced to that smile you gave him. Nothing else mattered, nothing else would matter, not when he had this. Something to hold, to worship, to service. A purpose again.
The kiss was gentle as he pressed his lips against yours, the swing creaked with your combined weight as you laid in his arms. You smiled against his lips relishing in the sweet taste that lingered on them after you had both settled eating fresh strawberries. With the red streaks in the sky now finally being able to watch your favourite time of day in the warmth of his embrace instead of the coldness of your room alone.