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Pete left the county building after the traditional morning meeting, plopped himself in the driver’s seat of his government sedan, and riffled through his zipper binder to ensure he was stocked up on all the necessary forms and citations and brochures he might need throughout the day. Then he fired up the engine and reversed out of his assigned parking space. Well, fired up wasn’t quite the right verbiage seeing as how the electric vehicle made only the slightest whisper of a sound when it started and then settled into a nearly silent purr — but while he cared about the environment and supported the switch to electric vehicles, he couldn’t help but feel like there was an element of badassery you could only get with cranking up something with a really loud muffler that electric cars would just never beat.
Pete sighed.
He had a number of houses to visit and audit, the county having received complaints about them for one reason or another, so he started on the route he’d planned out at his desk, also keeping an eye out for violations as he drove. He didn’t expect anything too crazy from the day — all the complaints were fairly run-of-the-mill (grass too long, fence too high, house paint not uniformly beige enough) — so the biggest danger was people being a bit irritated at having had the county called out on them.
The last stop on his route was a duplex with a complaint about an unkempt yard and, yeah, when Pete pulled up, he could absolutely see why a neighbor had complained. Aside from the grass being at least a foot high and the hedges in dire need of shaping, ivy was on the brink of overtaking both halves of the duplex and there were shrubs reaching through the front fence, preventing sidewalk accessibility. And look, Pete was all for natural landscaping, but the sidewalks really should be passable and frankly, English ivy was about as unnatural as it came for this region.
He painstakingly itemized each infraction on the form that told the resident they had fourteen days to correct the issues, and went to knock on the front door, which he honestly was a little worried would fall apart under his hand. After three separate knocks, no one answered and he tucked the notice between the doorknob and the frame and turned to leave. When he got to the end of the driveway, he heard a terrible sort of screech that apparently accompanied the door opening and turned to see a man stooping to pick up the paper that had fluttered down to the ground.
“Hey,” Pete called. The man looked up. He was a bit taller and younger than Pete, with old-timey sideburns, a strong jawline, and eyes Pete could tell were dreamy even from fifteen or twenty feet away. Pete adjusted his posture a bit, not that he expected anything, and tried to exude a friendly vibe. “We’ve just had some complaints about your yard, here, but you’ve got two weeks to get it fixed up, so no worries. Let me know if you have any questions — I can leave you my card.”
“Uh, that’s ok. Yeah, I’ll take care of it, thanks,” the man responded before quickly backing into the house.
“Cool, I’m—” The door slammed and he heard the deadbolt slide home. “—Pete. . .” Kind of a bummer to be dismissed so handily, but again, he hadn’t been expecting anything.
He got in his car, wrote a reminder on his schedule to come back in two weeks, and headed back to the office for the afternoon to input his day’s work in the computer records system.
Fourteen days later, Pete pulled up to the duplex again and saw that absolutely no progress had been made on cleaning up the yard. If anything, the house just seemed that much closer to being reclaimed by nature. Pete notated all the same infractions as before, plus a new one for the mailbox being so covered in ivy he was surprised it was even still in use — there had to be, like, a whole family of spiders or some kind of bugs living in there at this point, and he certainly wouldn’t want to reach his hands in past the foliage to retrieve junk mail. He shook his head and gingerly knocked on the door.
This time, the man actually answered after the second knock, looking a little worse for wear. His beard was grown out a bit now and his shirt had a few stains on it, as if he’d not changed it in a few days. A cigarette was perched between his fingers, smoke snaking up from it to be caught in the slight breeze.
“Hi,” Pete began hesitantly. He wasn’t sure whether the man might be about to bite his head off or break down sobbing into Pete’s shoulder. “Sooo, I’m back to check on your progress on the whole. . .” He gestured around himself. “Looks like you might need a bit more time, though?”
“Yeah, well, it’s all just gonna grow back anyway, right? Like, you get everything in place and you think you’re good and then it all goes to shit again, so why even try?”
Pete took a tiny step back, hoping to keep his head out of actual biting range.
“I mean, you try your best and you work really hard and then some asshole lunatic just throws you out on your ass just because he got dumped, like, I have a life too, you know.”
“Is . . . this about the yard still?” Pete interjects carefully. “It sounds like you might be going through something.”
“No, it’s not about the goddamn yard, ok? The yard would have been taken care of if my dickhead boss hadn’t dumped my other dickhead boss and got me fucking fired, ok? I would still be paying for the yard if I had any fucking money to do so, alright?” He sighed and put a hand on his hip, the back of the one holding the cigarette going to rest over his eyes.
“Listen, I’m sorry you’re going through a tough time, but I’m just doing my job, here. And not for nothing, but physical labor can be a pretty good method of getting over some things. Tire your body out, clear your mind, and you can maybe think of some ways to move on. And your yard isn’t huge so it probably wouldn’t take you super long, you know?”
The man huffed in a way that was very nearly a sob, so Pete stepped back forward in case his shoulder was needed. “I have a thing with my lower back — I don’t clean things. Plus, last time I tried to do manual labor, I literally lost a finger, so.”
Pete’s eyes involuntarily scanned both the man’s hands and noticed his left hand was missing its index finger. He looked back up and met the man’s eyes, as dreamy as he’d thought last time, large and dark green and glimmering with unshed tears. He didn’t like to admit it but Pete was a bit of a softie. He wasn’t weak or lame , he just accidentally cared too much about a lot of stuff.
“Well, um. I could— if you wanted, I could help you get it sorted out? I won’t have time until this weekend, but I could bring over my mower and stuff and help you get started? Unless— do you already have, like, yard equipment?”
“Ugh, no. I don’t own any of that stuff.” The man’s cigarette had burned down to the filter and gone out, but he didn’t seem to have noticed. He met Pete’s eyes warily. “Why would you want to spend your weekend cleaning up someone else’s lawn?”
Pete struggled for a moment to find a good answer that wasn’t just you’re really cute or you seem sad and I want to help you not be and shrugged. “I guess it’s like I said. Physical work just quiets your brain. Helps you forget about all the stuff you might be worrying about and reminds you you’re alive. Whatever you’ve been through with your bosses and stuff, it sounds like it sucked, but you lived , you know? Just gotta make the best of it now. For me, it’s just like feeling bored or lonely a lot, so it’s nice to get out in nature too.”
The man’s mouth hung slightly ajar. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” he said after a moment. “Um. I do hate to accept your offer without paying you, but I really can’t afford to do that, so I guess I’ll just say thank you? I’d appreciate borrowing the equipment, at least.”
“Yeah, sure, man. Oh, and I’m Pete. I tried to introduce myself last time, but you kinda slammed the door before I could get it out.”
“Sorry. I’m Lucius. I’d invite you in for a coffee or whatever, but frankly the inside’s almost as bad as the outside right now.”
“That’s alright, I have to go finish up at the office anyway. But I’ll see you this weekend? Saturday morning?”
“Yeah, I’ll text you— oh, can I give you my number?”
Pete’s stomach did a thrilling little flip-flop that he tried to ignore. This was him helping out someone in need, nothing more. So far. “Yes, yeah, here you go.” He unlocked his phone and navigated to Add Contact for Lucius to type his information in.
“Okay. I’ll see you Saturday, then, Pete. And thanks again.” Lucius backed slowly through the door, clearly trying to show as little of the room within as possible and did a little wave before pressing the door firmly shut and locking it.
They didn’t text throughout the rest of the week, so on Friday evening Pete was getting antsy about the following day, wondering if he should write Lucius to confirm he should still come. As he was writing and deleting text after text, a new message appeared from Lucius, Still on for tomorrow?
Pete fumbled to respond quickly — Yes! I can be there whenever! — then cringed at his own eagerness.
Lucius 😊: You mentioned 10am before? I should be up by then~
Pete: Ok cool, I’ll try to get there around 10
Smooth , Pete thought to himself.
Pete: Do you know what all equipment you need or should I just bring a bunch of stuff
Lucius 😊: I guess just whatever you think we’ll need? Not really the “yardwork” type, as you probably gathered.
Pete: Gotcha. Ok I’ll see you in the morning then 😊
He plugged his electric push mower, weed whacker, and hedge trimmer in to charge overnight, then packed up a variety of pruning tools in the tool chest in the bed of his truck. He even tossed in a pair of gardening gloves — he usually forewent them but he got the feeling Lucius would be more comfortable with a barrier between his hands and the dirt.
The next morning, he accidentally arrived fifteen minutes early. He thought about making a loop around the block so he didn’t seem to Lucius like he was trying too hard, but he figured driving slowly past all the neighbors was more disturbing to more people than Pete just appearing as eager as he really was to see Lucius again.
He did sit in his truck for an extra five or six minutes, trying to look like he was busy on his phone, but actually just doing the day’s Wordle (got it in six, phew). When he went to the front door, Lucius answered after the first knock and swung the door open to invite Pete inside. It was fairly sparse inside and the house had clearly not been updated in decades, but the furniture was nice, and the art on the walls was cool, and Lucius was there so all in all, not a bad space to be in.
“So-” Pete began as Lucius said, “I-”
He gestured for Lucius to go first. “I made some coffee, if you’d like a cup? I don’t really know how to do the whole hosting thing.” He laughed self-consciously.
“Coffee would be good. Thanks. I, uh, I brought a bunch of stuff. It’s all in my truck whenever you want to get started. I mean, we . We can get started.”
Lucius grimaced a bit. “Ok, yeah, coffee then work, I guess.”
He poured Pete a cup of coffee and offered hazelnut-flavored creamer, which Pete initially declined before tasting the bitter mud Lucius had made. Not wanting to be rude, he said he’d changed his mind and poured creamer until the black coffee turned a warmer shade of khaki that nearly matched the wide-legged linen pants Lucius wore.
They stood in the kitchen and made small talk, Lucius inquiring about Pete’s job with the county, while they sipped from their mugs, until Lucius groaned and said they should probably get started.
Pete set him up with the hedge trimmers first and instructed him carefully on where to keep his hands while it was running so as to avoid any more unintentional amputations. He opted to take on the job of mowing, a bit more challenging of a task than the hedges, given the thickness of the overgrown grass. Pete dutifully shoved the mower through the mess on the highest length setting, just to get it started, collecting the clippings and throwing them in Lucius’s green bin, then went back over it on a lower setting to even it all out. Lucius, meanwhile, had done a fairly vicious job of trimming the hedges back, seemingly going for shortness over neatness. That alone had taken them the better part of two hours and Lucius had a lovely tinge of red in his cheeks from his efforts that Pete did his best not to stare at. Pete found himself hoping his own sweaty face wasn’t too offputting.
Lucius offered to get them some water and a quick lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and Pete gratefully accepted, moving on to using the weed whacker to quickly neaten up the edges of the lawn while Lucius prepared their meal. After the short break, he handed Lucius the gloves and a small pair of pruning shears to get started with the ivy climbing the house, taking it upon himself to handle the larger branches of the tree out front and the shrubs growing through the fence. Without the loud droning of the power tools, they could actually talk to each other while they worked, and Pete happily listened to Lucius open up about his job and moody bosses. Apparently, Lucius had been the personal assistant to an exterior decorator, something Pete didn’t realize even existed, who had teamed up with the most efficient lawn maintenance company in the area, Blackbeard’s Outdoor Maintenance and Lawncare, to start a brand new, multitalented business that had been hired by some very high-end customers to design and maintain their outdoor spaces.
“Oh my god, I used to work for him — Blackbeard — before I started with the county! I got a lot of old equipment from him.” Pete gestured at all the tools he’d brought.
“Yeah, well, good thing you left, because that guy is seriously insane,” Lucius scoffed. He went on to talk about how his boss and the owner of Blackbeard’s had fallen for each other, then split suddenly, leading to Blackbeard’s majorly cutting staff “to maximize profits.” It had been several weeks since then and word was Blackbeard’s employees were being majorly overworked and all on the brink of quitting (Lucius still talked to his old coworkers, Jim and Frenchie). “But you’ll never guess who just texted me out of nowhere on Thursday. Fucking Stede , who ditched his boyfriend and business partner, now wants me to get back in touch with the guy for him. I guess Ed must’ve blocked him everywhere so Stede hasn’t been able to make contact. Stede’s been doing some freelance work with the guys Ed canned and offered to hire me back, which I’ve obviously accepted for now, even though he can’t match my old salary. Ugh, my life is ridiculous.”
Pete took advantage of the short pause in Lucius’s story to ask, “So, if you worked for lawn maintenance people too . . . what happened here? Don’t you get trained on how to, like, mow your grass? Not that I’m judging!”
“No, babe, I was an executive assistant . Clerical work only for these delicate hands, thank you. I got a discounted rate from the company, so everything was done for me. Hope to god that comes back at some point.”
They talked all through the afternoon, even as Lucius slowed his momentum and eventually took to sitting on the front steps, chattering as Pete continued to work on the whole ivy situation alone — shit was everywhere — which he actually didn’t mind much. He liked listening to Lucius and yeah, alright, his crush was becoming fairly undeniable the longer the day wore on. Hacking away at the godforsaken ivy was infinitely preferable to saying goodbye and trying to decide if he should ask to see Lucius again. They seemed to get along really well, but maybe Lucius was just the kind of person who could talk to anyone. He thought he saw Lucius eyeing his arms a few times, but maybe he was just admiring the muscle-tank Pete had made by tearing the sleeves off of an old t-shirt. It was hard to say.
Unfortunately, the day did have to end at some point, and when Pete had exhausted every task he could think of short of repainting the exterior of the house, he had to admit that it was time to say goodbye.
Lucius kept him company as he loaded his tools back into the bed of his truck, then leaned against it, looking over the lawn that now practically sparkled. The sun was just about to dip down past the houses across the street and it had been a very long day, but Pete felt like hardly any time had passed at all.
“Thanks for all this,” Lucius said quietly. “Really. And thanks for the reality check the other day — I needed it.”
“No worries. Just glad I could help.” Pete paused, trying to think of anything smooth he could say at all. “I gotta-”
“Can I-” Lucius smiled and said, “Sorry, go ahead.”
“So, I’m gonna have to stop by again on Monday to officially see if you’ve complied with county ordinance. I guess I’ll look forward to seeing you then?”
“Yeah, me too.” Lucius raised a hand to rest on Pete’s shoulder as he leaned in.
Pete froze. Yeah, he’d spent all day dreaming about getting to kiss Lucius, but he never really expected it to happen. He was so tired and sweaty— god, he probably smelled awful too, and he was wearing this stupid cut-off t-shirt—
His panicking was interrupted by Lucius’s lips meeting his cheek. “I’ll see you Monday.”
On Monday afternoon, Lucius’s house was once again Pete’s last stop for the day and Pete texted him when he was heading over. He marked off all the infractions as corrected, smirking to himself, then went to knock on the door. It opened before he could even make contact and a grinning Lucius grabbed two handfuls of his yellow safety vest and tugged him inside.