Beneath These Fields

by Ward Maia

  And that was his cue to leave. The uneasy and awkward silence was more than he could take.

  “Well.” Ellis braced his hand on the table and rose to his feet. His head spun slightly, the copious amounts of wine and sugarcane liquor making itself known. He took a deep breath and waited a second before talking again. “This has been enlightening. And I mean that. In more ways than one.” He shot Rudá a scathing look meant to wither him in his seat—which didn’t exactly hit its mark, if the amused smile he shot Ellis was anything to go by—and then scanned the other faces looking at him. “But the night is young and I must excuse myself.”

  He curtsied, then remembered that wasn’t the appropriate goodbye and bowed slightly, grabbing the table to steady himself after rising too quickly. Rudá reached for him, but Ellis batted his hand away.

  After only a brief consideration, he reached for the bottle of sugarcane liquor and cradled it under his arm.

  “Goodbye and good night,” Ellis said, mildly aware he was probably making a fool of himself.

  Then he strode away, a little unsteadily, from the table and up the steps and into the house.

  Ellis paused in front of his bedroom door. The dark hall swam a little as he pondered what to do. He didn’t want to spend the rest of the night locked in his room, drinking himself into a mindless stupor.

  He also didn’t want to go back outside and face everyone. He made a perfect dramatic exit, and there was no way he’d ruin that by facing them all again.

  He looked from side to side. It was a big house, and he refused to believe there was only one exit.

  Straightening his spine, squaring his shoulders, and cradling the bottle carefully under his arm, Ellis strode down the hall.

  It took longer than he cared to admit to find another exit. The poor lighting and the alcohol drenching his brain didn’t help. He eventually found himself walking on grass, a cool breeze making him shiver slightly.

  The rows of coffee stalks stretched out in front of him, heralding him into the quiet dark. He swallowed and fumbled for his phone. Once the screen illuminated enough for him to not trip on any wayward roots and maybe break something vital, he started to walk, fueled mostly by alcohol. But also by the incessant need to understand.

  Who knew, maybe the night would have some answers for him.

  Chapter 12

  THE NIGHT had no answers for him.

  Ellis took another swig from the bottle and hiccupped. He sat sprawled in between the rows of coffee stalks. He was pretty sure that in the morning, he’d regret every decision that led him to that point. However, at that moment, he was more worried about keeping his buzz going long enough to not feel the hard ground when he passed out from exhaustion and the alcohol making his thoughts fuzzy.

  After ten minutes of walking aimlessly in the field while cracking open the bottle and taking a few swigs, Ellis had a moment of stark clarity, where he realized he was walking around a dark field alone and not exactly on the right side of drunk.

  He tried finding his way back to the main house after that but was less than successful. There was a faint light he tried to follow—despite his better judgment telling him it might not be the best plan—but was unable.

  Trust Ellis to get turned around and lost while trying to follow a straight line of coffee stalks. He really did have the worst sense of direction. He couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol because he’d gotten lost enough times when sober to know this was all on him.

  Resigned to his fate, he sat on the cold hard ground and kept on drinking the high-quality sugarcane liquor his aunt favored.

  Thinking about his aunt made the tangled knot of emotions he had managed to keep at bay bubble up to the surface. In his drunk and fragile state, he had no hope of ignoring it.

  Confusion, because his aunt left him her home. Anger, because she had left him her home and thrown a wrench in his entire life, forcing him to put everything on hold until he solved this situation. And a crushing sense of sadness and longing. The more he found out about his aunt, the more he wished he’d known her.

  He thought of his family. His cold, dysfunctional, and distant family. He had nothing in common with his parents or even his sister. His attempts to cross the chasm stretching between them always ended in disaster.

  It had all culminated when he was eighteen and fancied himself a free man. He told his family everything he thought about them. All the feelings and resentment he’d harbored from years of being mostly ignored, except on those occasions his parents needed him as a prop for a picture or benefit dinner. Ellis was used to playing the perfect son. Even if he hated it.

  He naively believed all that would change when he was old enough to access his trust fund. He built this image of forging his own way in the world, free from the ties his parents had him in.

  Looking back, Ellis now understood that the money in the trust fund was still tied to his parents, and having access to it wouldn’t equate to freedom.

  But at eighteen, he thought he would finally be free. Little did he know his parents had tied his trust fund in more contingency clauses than he’d ever come up with during his entire career.

  Not having access to the money was an unexpected blow, but Ellis hadn’t lost his enthusiasm. He turned to his friends, and they helped, for a while at least. Eventually the bright-eyed, idealistic, and poor Campos family member became too much of a nuisance to deal with.

  Ellis ended up homeless and completely unprepared for the real world. He never noticed just how much he depended on his parents’ money until they left him completely untethered. Too stubborn and proud to go back home and ask for help, Ellis roamed for weeks, barely feeding himself, huddling against buildings for warmth.

  His sister eventually came for him. He caved and went back with her, with his tail tucked between his legs. He hoped that, even if whatever relationship he’d had with his parents couldn’t be salvaged, he at least would have an ally in his sister.

  He was wrong. He tried connecting with her after things went back to normal and he was once more back in the fold of the Campos family. But she dismissed him, just as easily as his parents had.

  Ellis was alone after all. Trying to forge connections with people who didn’t care enough to make sure he was still alive.

  He took another deep gulp from the bottle, trying to dispel his jumbled thoughts.

  He picked up his phone, weighing how wise it would be to drunk dial his sister and ramble about the farm and the sexy farmer who captured his attention whenever he walked in the room.

  Ellis snorted at that thought and hiccupped at the same time. His phone flashed a low battery warning to him, and he sighed.

  “Perfect. Just peachy,” he slurred and dropped the phone back on the ground. Maybe a little more forcefully than he should have, judging by the cracking sound and the darkness that enveloped him as the screen went blank.

  But he was too far gone to care. Thinking about connections and his fucked-up family while his brain swam with alcohol had that effect on him.

  Connections.

  The word echoed in his mind as he leaned back to stare up at the stars.

  His aunt had come here to look for some semblance of family. Since she came from the same family he did, Ellis couldn’t really blame her. Come to think of it, he actually understood.

  She came looking for something. For a… connection.

  “Is that why you gave her to me?” Ellis asked the dark. “To connect?”

  Only the stars answered, twinkling away as stars are wont to do and would still do long after he was dust.

  He dug his fingers in the cold earth, feeling the uneven grains slip through his fingers. A wish filled his heart, unfiltered by his conscious mind that usually guarded his deeper wants and desires.

  “I wish you were still here,” he said, slurring the words the alcohol allowed him to voice. “I think we would’ve gotten along. I think, maybe, we could’ve been a family. A real family.”

  His finge
rs traced shapeless figures in the dirt. He shivered, the cool breeze picking up speed as the night moved on with its schedule.

  “Did you find it?” Ellis raised his voice, as if he’d get an answer if he only spoke louder. “Rudá says you did. But I don’t think you did. Why would you leave me your home if you had?”

  Silence was the only response he got.

  “Is that why you gave her to me?” He shouted the question this time. To the sky, to the fields or the dark around him. It didn’t matter, because none of them answered.

  He lowered his head and trailed his fingers in the dirt again. Tears prickled his eyelids, and he was too tired and too drunk to hold them back.

  Through the fog of alcohol and sorrow, he heard leaves rustling. Ellis squinted into the dark, trying to make out if the leaves had moved as a product of the wind picking up… or because of something else. He was numb enough to not be terrified of what could be out here in the dark with him, but not so far gone as to ignore the little twinge of worry that told him he should maybe get up and try to find his way back home.

  “Hello?” Ellis called to the dark after the leaves rustled again.

  Heavy breathing was the answer to his question. Ellis paid more attention to the little voice harshly whispering for him to get up and get moving. He braced his dirt-covered hands on the ground, fully intending to get up, when something stepped onto the path in front of him.

  The faint moonlight barely illuminated enough of the world around him to make out the shape of whatever stood in his way.

  “Hel—” he started to say again but was cut off as the dark shape lunged toward him.

  Chapter 13

  “SHOO! UNHAND me, you foul beast! I will not allow you to drag me to the depths of Tartarus. Do you hear me? I. Will. Not,” Ellis said forcefully.

  Or as forcefully as one can say while still drunk and being licked by the biggest dog in the known universe.

  “Ugh! Gross.” He whined helplessly as Duke did his best to lick him sober.

  Ellis patted the dog’s side and tried to push him away so he could get up, but he might have better results trying to push a brick wall. The massive body barely shifted to the side.

  Tired, drunk, dirty, and now covered in saliva, Ellis let his arms flop to the side as he gave up trying to push the huge beast away from him.

  “You win. You may claim me. My body is ready!” Ellis exclaimed, spreading his arms on either side of his body. Duke continued to lick and sniff at him animatedly.

  “Is that a fact?” a voice asked from somewhere above him.

  Ellis tilted his head back, squinting against the darkness and trying to make out the shape crouching over him.

  Rudá’s dimpled smile came into focus, and Ellis smiled at him brightly. Or as brightly as he could, considering his current situation.

  “Hey… you.” Ellis tried to reach for Rudá’s wobbly face and missed by about a mile.

  “Did you get lost again?” Rudá asked.

  “No,” Ellis scoffed, frowning. Then he smiled brightly at the other man again. “I was having a conversation.”

  “With who?” Rudá asked, amusement and curiosity ringing in his tone.

  Ellis rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to answer but paused. Because he honestly couldn’t remember. Duke took the opportunity to stick his entire snout in his mouth. Tried to at least.

  Ellis sputtered and tried to push the humongous dog away from him. He heard what sounded like a chuckle come from Rudá, and a second later, Duke’s huge body was gone from on top of him.

  Strong arms hooked underneath him and pulled him up. Ellis tried to help but ended up making things worse when he staggered to his feet and had to cling to Rudá to stay upright.

  “Whoops,” he slurred and giggled.

  “It’s okay,” Rudá said, still smiling. “Come on, let’s get you back home.”

  Home. The word reverberated in his head as Rudá helped Ellis walk toward the light he tried to reach earlier. Well, walk might be too generous. Ellis sort of staggered as the words kept bouncing and rolling around in his head.

  Home. Home. Home.

  Don’t sell!

  Don’t sell!

  Don’t sell!

  “Did you know you’re my savior?” Ellis slurred, his face far closer to Rudá’s than he remembered it being only a second ago. “Literally?”

  “Do I get a prize?” Rudá asked, indulging Ellis in his drunken ramblings.

  “You already have the joys of my company,” Ellis said.

  Rudá chuckled and adjusted his arm around Ellis’s waist, pulling their bodies closer together. His familiar scent of earth and coffee floated around them, and Ellis smiled goofily at him.

  “I think I like it here,” Ellis blurted out. Rudá smiled, his dimple just as charming as always. “And she told me. Did you know that?”

  Rudá’s smile turned a little confused as he frowned.

  “Told you what?” Rudá asked.

  “I heard it or read it. It’s a bit confusing. But she told me anyway. Told me not to sell.” Ellis nodded as the words poured out of him.

  The light he’d glimpsed at a distance got brighter as the house came into view. Ellis smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “When? When did she tell you not to sell?” Rudá jostled Ellis a little when he just kept smiling at the house.

  “Um… yesterday. Or, no… today?” Ellis tried to remember, but the memory kept eluding him as they walked up the steps.

  The house was quiet as their fumbling steps echoed down the halls. He flopped down on the bed once they made it to his room. The too soft mattress made him feel like he was drowning. He scooted down until his feet touched the floor, needing something steady and solid to ground him.

  Rudá’s chuckle echoed in the room, and Ellis felt him tug his shoes off. He closed his eyes, the pleasant swimming sensation in his brain making him sleepy. His eyes snapped open when he felt someone tug his belt and jeans open.

  “Whoa, buy me dinner first,” he slurred and grinned up at Rudá.

  “Why, are you hungry?” the other man asked, rolling his eyes in annoyance, even if the small smile playing on his lips let Ellis know he wasn’t that upset with him.

  “Oh yeah.” He leered at Rudá, the effect probably dampened by the hiccup that followed it.

  Instead of sneering or saying something rude, Rudá’s grin widened and he laughed softly.

  Ellis was vaguely aware he was a mess. Clothes and face caked in dirt and tears from all the empty and pointless questions he’d asked the dark. But he didn’t have it in him to care what he did or didn’t look like.

  The thoughts running through his head, which buzzed with alcohol and emotion, made it seem like maybe rolling around the sheets with Rudá for a few hours might do both of them some good.

  “You still have evidence of Duke’s advances on your face.” Rudá gestured toward Ellis’s face.

  “Huh?” Ellis frowned and tried to make sense of the other man’s jumbled words.

  “You have dog spit all over your face.” Rudá bumped his knee against Ellis’s.

  “Oh?” Ellis ignored whatever Rudá was talking about and eyed him up and down.

  Rudá cocked an eyebrow, and Ellis waggled his. The other man sighed and disappeared from Ellis’s line of sight. Ellis huffed out a breath and closed his eyes, doing his best to ignore the feeling of disappointment curling inside of him.

  Just as he started to drift off, the bed shifted and Ellis opened his eyes and saw Rudá sitting next to him, cradling something. His vision was blurry, and for a moment, when Rudá leaned forward and braced one hand next to Ellis’s head, he thought Rudá might actually kiss him. Then he pressed something warm and wet to his cheek, and Ellis realized Rudá was cleaning him with a towel.

  Ellis closed his eyes and sighed, allowing himself to be taken care of.

  The cloth was pressed against his cheeks, nose, forehead, and lingered on his lips. Ellis parted th
em after Rudá trailed the cloth down, wiping gently at his throat. Ellis smiled at the weird sensation of being cleaned by another man.

  “What?” Rudá asked, his face hovering above his.

  “I feel like a naughty cat,” Ellis said.

  Rudá laughed, a hint of wine on his breath ghosting over Ellis’s face. It smelled good. He smelled good. A mix of dust, the earthy scent of the farm that seemed to cling to his skin, and his own masculine scent of sweat and coffee beans. Ellis wanted to bury his nose everywhere and just breathe him in.

  Rudá shifted, pressing one thigh against Ellis’s hips. Ellis hummed appreciatively and rested one hand over it, the alcohol still coursing through him spurring him on and allowing him to ignore the possible complication of sleeping with the gorgeous man sitting next to him.

  He heard the wet splat of something hitting the floor, but it was quickly erased from his mind as Rudá lowered his face to Ellis’s and kissed him. He parted his lips and moaned when Rudá’s tongue slipped into his mouth and slicked against his, hot and wet.

  Ellis hummed in appreciation and trailed his hands up Rudá’s stomach, his fingers lingering over the muscles he felt and then farther up, over his chest and finally landing on his shoulders.

  Rudá hovered over Ellis as they kissed. Ellis tightened his grip on the other man’s shoulders and tried to pull him down on top of him, wanting to feel the weight of Rudá’s body pushing him down into the mattress.

  Rudá pulled back and stared at Ellis, running his gaze over his face.

  “You’re drunk.” He smiled almost shyly down at Ellis.

  “I am,” Ellis said honestly. No point denying, considering how Rudá had found him trying to fight off Duke’s attack while crying and shouting questions at the sky.

  Rudá rubbed Ellis’s cheek, his dimple making Ellis wish they could just go back to kissing.

  “Then we should leave this for some other time,” Rudá said.

  Ellis opened his mouth to argue, but Rudá gave him a quick peck, silencing him.

  “Later. Get some rest.” Rudá got up and helped Ellis take off his pants and shirt.