Thomas Sanders Sides OneShots 5

Farm boy - Logan x Roman

12:15am

Trigger warning: mentions of past death

Alright bitch boys time to try and write

CONTEXT: this was set in olden times

Au
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Logan leaned against yet another tree in the past ten minutes, he could feel sweat dripping down his body and sticking his clothes to his skin, the hat on top his head barely doing anything to shield his tired eyes from the blaring sun above. He had been walking for all morning since dawn, anything to get away from the place he once called home. He knew he wasn't welcome anymore, it wasn't going to be long before they hurt him in some way - he needed to escape and he knew they wouldn't try and find him.

He had crossed fields and fields of land, avoiding animals and barn houses in fear he'd get shot for trespassing but he knew he'd need to stop at one and ask for some sort of help soon - even though he was nearly one hundred percent certain he'd be turned away.

Taking a few gasps of air he pushed himself up and hobbled along the yellow stained grass, his throat dry and begging for a sip of water. He could imagine it and it was driving him insane.

He really, really didn't want to die here. He'd do anything for some water, Hell he'd sleep outside if it meant one glass of the stuff.

Another five minutes later Logan found himself slumping against a fence surrounding a large lot of land, the fence itself was old, paint dried, chipped and barely resembling the colour it once was. He didn't take this into consideration, however, he just needed some sort of support.

Truly he didn't realise how long he stood there for, obviously too long, for a sudden voice startled him from his half asleep state. Yes he was almost falling asleep, who could blame him, his sleep schedule wasn't to be desired anyhow and he had been walking for a good part of the day.

"Need help there, kid?"

Logan's eyes met with the owner of the voice, an older man with sun tanned skin, a rough beard and clothes stained with dried mud. Logan assumed he was the owner of the land, with a shovel in his hand he looked to be doing some work around the farm. "I...I..." he drifted, a shaky hand reaching up and taking off his hat out of respect. "Please...I'll do anything, I can tend to horses or fix that broken fence over there..." he gestured to a part of the fence in the distance that had collapsed from old age. "I can't read nor write but I was good around the farm, please..."

The stranger took pity on the teenager, his voice was weak and his legs trembled under him, like they couldn't hold up his body. "Alright, what's your name, boy?" He asked while stepping closer, holding out a hand to help him climb over the fence which he did with slight struggle, almost collapsing to the ground the other side if the man didn't balance him out. "Logan" he replied and the man nodded, taking him across the field towards the barn besides his home.

"Get kicked out, eh?"

Logan shook his head, "my momma passed away, they didn't want me there anymore, I had to leave"

The stranger nodded and sighed, he hated to see such young people left without a home. The barn doors were open and the man sat Logan down on a pile of hay, letting him relax there while he called out his sons name. "Roman!"

"Yeah?" A younger but firm voice replied, with a soft grunt afterwards. "C'mere, I need your help!" The man explained, Roman let out a huff, leaving behind his job to jog over to the barn. Entering through the doorway he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, hair slicked back with sweat from working under the sun. Logan couldn't help but look over and let his eyes linger on the boy he seemed to be similar age of, he wore a red checkered shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned muscles - presumably obtained from living on a farm. With that he wore shorts that had mostly lost the blue pigment they originally had.