Unwritten Fate [BL]
Chapter 86: Shovels and Secrets

Chapter 86: Shovels and Secrets

The morning light crept in slow, brushing the edge of the window. Billy stirred first, his arm still draped across Artur’s waist. He didn’t move right away—just watched the way the sun touched Artur’s cheekbone.

Artur’s eyes opened a moment later. "Stop staring."

Billy smiled. "You snore."

"I don’t."

"You did. Just a little."

Artur huffed, still half-asleep. "Liar."

Billy chuckled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder before sitting up. "We should get moving."

Artur groaned into the pillow. "Do we have to?"

"You’re the one with the cart team. I just shovel dirt."

Artur cracked one eye open. "That’s a very noble job. Dirt’s important."

Billy leaned down, their noses almost touching. "So’s breakfast. And Mr. Dand said early start."

Artur sighed but sat up. "Fine. But if the field eats me alive, tell the village I died dramatically."

"No promises." Billy grabbed his shirt from the floor and tugged it on. "Come on, lazy bones."

They stepped into the main room just as Mr. Dand was lacing his boots by the door. He looked up at them with a grunt. "Didn’t think I’d have to drag you both out."

"We’re ready," Billy said, straightening his collar. "Mostly."

Artur gave a lazy salute. "Cart team reporting for duty."

Mr. Dand gave a short nod. "Good. Tools are in the shed. Get to it."

Billy grabbed a hunk of bread from the table and tossed another to Artur. "Eat on the way?"

Artur caught it one-handed. "Romantic."

Billy smirked. "You want me to feed you too?"

Mr. Dand shook his head, already out the door. "You two’ll drive me mad."

As they stepped into the crisp air, Billy nudged Artur with his elbow. "Think we’ll survive this harvest?"

Artur bit into the bread. "Only if you stop waking me up with lies about snoring."

Billy grinned and fell into step beside him.

And so the day began.

The southern fields stretched out, dry and waiting. Billy eyed the soil, shovel in hand. "Looks like it hasn’t been touched in months."

Artur, adjusting the strap of his gloves, gave a low whistle. "Welcome to the pre-harvest."

Billy stepped forward and jabbed the shovel into the dirt. It gave more resistance than expected. "Hard as rock."

"That’s why we’re here." Artur grabbed his own spade. "Break it up, clear the stones, prep for seeding. Same as last year."

Billy wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "You say that like I was here last year."

Artur smirked. "Right. You were off being... someone."

Billy paused, shovel mid-air, then drove it into the ground without a word.

Artur noticed, but didn’t press. Instead, he dug in beside him, the two of them working in a quiet rhythm. Dirt clumped around their boots. Every few feet, Billy would stop and hurl a rock off to the side.

"You’re doing it wrong," Artur said after a while.

Billy glanced over. "I’m doing it like you."

"That’s your first mistake."

Billy grinned. "Then show me."

Artur moved behind him, reaching around to adjust Billy’s grip. "Here. Keep your hands wider. Use your legs more. Or you’ll burn out by midday."

"Is that your way of flirting?"

"It’s my way of not carrying you home later."

Billy gave a soft laugh but followed the instruction. The next dig landed smoother. "You’ve done this a lot, huh?"

Artur nodded, stepping back. "Since I was twelve."

Billy worked another row in silence. Then: "Feels good, though. Doing something."

Artur raised a brow. "You like shoveling?"

"I like not drifting."

Artur didn’t answer, just watched him for a second too long.

They worked on, sweat gathering under their collars, the morning stretching forward. At one point, Billy straightened and looked out over the field. "Hey—what’s that path over there?"

Artur turned. "That? Leads to the old well. Nobody uses it anymore. Too far out."

Billy’s eyes lingered on it. "Maybe I’ll walk there after."

Artur watched him carefully. "You sure you’re not a poet?"

"Maybe in a past life."

"Or a dramatic actor."

Billy blinked.

Artur shrugged. "Just saying."

Billy bent back down, jabbing the shovel into the soil. "Guess we’ll find out."

Billy wiped his palms against his pants, eyes narrowing on the next stubborn patch of soil. Artur was ahead of him now, swinging the shovel with practiced ease, barely out of breath.

Billy leaned on the handle. "You don’t even look tired."

Artur didn’t look up. "I am. I’m just good at hiding it."

Billy tilted his head, studying him. "So you do have secrets."

Artur gave a half smile. "You think I’m an open book?"

"I think you’re... less sealed than before."

Artur paused mid-dig. "Less sealed, huh?"

But before Billy could answer, a voice called out behind them.

"Well, well, would you look at that—two early birds trying to impress the worms."

Billy turned. Artur froze.

Jay stood at the edge of the field, sunglasses pushed back on his head, a bright scarf tossed over his shoulders like he wasn’t standing in the middle of a dust-blown village. He grinned.

Billy blinked. "Jay?"

Artur straightened, dusting off his hands. "I thought you left yesterday."

Jay stretched, clearly enjoying the surprise on their faces. "Changed my mind."

Artur crossed his arms. "You? Voluntarily staying longer than twenty-four hours? The world must be ending."

Jay smirked. "I figured I’d do something radical for once. Stay. Help out. Be useful."

Artur’s brow lifted slowly. "You’re serious?"

Jay pointed at him. "See? That tone. That’s exactly why I’m staying. Everyone expects me to run off after a day and a half, drink some wine, make sarcastic comments, and disappear."

"Because That’s literally what you always do."

"Correction. Did."

Billy stepped closer, wary but amused. "So what, you want a shovel?"

Jay held up his hands. "Let’s not get carried away. Maybe I’ll start small. Carry water. Supervise."

Artur gave him a dry look. "Of course. ’Supervise.’"

Jay tugged off his scarf and tossed it over the fencepost. "Look, I’m not saying I’ve become Farmer Jay overnight. I just... maybe I needed a break from city noise.

"Maybe I got tired of rooms full of people who don’t care if I’m there or not."

That last line settled the air for a beat. Billy watched him closely, then spoke quietly. "You’re welcome to join."

Artur added, more gruffly, "Just don’t slow us down."

Jay chuckled. "Oh, I intend to be the most charmingly inefficient part of this operation."

He started rolling up his sleeves, walking over. Billy glanced sideways at Artur.

"Did hell freeze over?"

Artur whispered back, "Either that or he lost a bet."

But as Jay picked up a bucket and muttered something about blister creams, a different look crossed Artur’s face—one somewhere between suspicion and curiosity.

Jay, working?

That was new.

Billy leaned forward, pressing his weight onto the shovel as he caught his breath. Sweat gathered at his brow, the heat biting sharper now.

Jay, crouched nearby with a bucket of tools he hadn’t quite figured out how to use, looked downright offended by the sun.

"Alright," Jay huffed, wiping his face with the edge of his shirt. "I’ve had enough rural authenticity for one morning."

Artur didn’t even look up. "It’s been twenty minutes."

"Time is relative when you’re melting," Jay muttered. Then louder, "I’m serious. We should do something smarter."

Billy leaned on his shovel. "Like?"

Jay stood, brushing dirt from his knees like he’d survived a war. "Join the elders. The harvest meeting. That’s where the real decisions happen, isn’t it?"

Artur straightened slowly, a brow raised. "So you’re quitting and calling it strategy."

Jay pointed a finger. "I am repurposing my energy."

Billy bit back a smile. "He just wants to sit under a roof and sip tea."

Jay grinned. "Exactly. Preferably with honey. And a chair that doesn’t wobble."

Artur shook his head, amused despite himself. "The elders don’t usually allow non-members to join their meetings."

Jay gave him a sly look. "Then it’s a good thing Mr. Dand is basically royalty around here. You think he’d say no to us?"

Billy stepped away from his shovel, considering. "He might if we show up covered in sweat and dirt."

Jay held out his arms. "Then let’s clean up and go in like gentlemen. Who knows—maybe they could use new eyes."

Artur looked between them both, then exhaled. "Fine. But if I end up regretting this, I’m blaming you."

Jay smirked. "Blame me now. Save yourself the trouble."

Billy chuckled, brushing his hands off as he walked toward the fence. "Let’s see if the grown-ups have room for misfits like us."

Jay followed with a light step, already looking ten degrees more comfortable. "And let’s pray they have snacks."

Artur grumbled, trailing behind. "You better hope they don’t have pitchforks."

The community hall stood quiet at first glance, its wooden door creaking as Jay pushed it open.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of cooled tea and worn-out conversation. A few elders lingered around the wide table, chairs pulled back, voices lowered to idle chat.

Someone laughed faintly in the corner—dry, tired, the kind of sound that came after hours of sitting.

Billy slowed at the doorway. "We’re late."

Artur scanned the room. "Looks like the meeting’s already over."

Jay blinked. "You’ve got to be kidding me. I walked all the way here for post-meeting gossip?"

One of the old men looked up from his cup. "If you wanted decisions, you should’ve come before the sun climbed."

Another chuckled, not unkind. "Your father already left, boy. Said something about hauling the cart team."

Artur stepped in, nodding a brief thanks. "Did they settle on the rotation?"

"They did," the first man said. "You’re still with the southern haul, as expected. And the new one—" He pointed at Billy. "He’s with prep."

Jay leaned on the doorway dramatically. "And what about me? No task for the charming city visitor?"

"Didn’t know you were staying," one elder said, eyeing him with mild amusement.

Jay lifted a brow. "Well, now you do."

Another elder chuckled into his drink. "Unless charm can weed the fields, you’ll have to prove your worth."

Billy smothered a grin. Artur didn’t bother.

Jay smiled thinly. "Fine. I’ll find my way."

The men resumed their chat, uninterested now that official matters were done.

Artur turned to go. "Come on. Let’s not stand around like lost chickens."

Outside, Billy squinted at the sky, gauging the angle of the sun. "What now?"

Jay let out a theatrical sigh. "Now, I accept that I’m not cut out for field work or village politics."

Artur raised a brow. "You thought you’d come here and what? Start a revolution?"

"I thought I’d be useful," Jay muttered.

Billy glanced at him, quiet for a beat. "You will be. Just not like everyone else."

Jay looked over, and for a rare second, something softened in his face. "You think?"

Billy nodded once. "I do."

Artur, already walking ahead, didn’t look back. "Then start by helping me haul crates."

Jay groaned. "I knew there’d be lifting involved."

Billy smiled and followed.

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