fly | madderton

TWO

short chap as a new years present <3 hope you all had a great time seeing in the new year and i hope 2020 brings you good things

"That's four! Can he make it five?"

A group of people had gathered around to watch Taron's final throw on the ring toss. He hadn't been exaggerating about his skill. He knew himself that he could definitely make it five, but didn't want God to hear his cockiness and mess with his chances. If he existed, it certainly seemed like the sort of thing he'd do. After their cliché emotional reunion moment, Taron had checked his grandfather was okay by himself before hurrying off to fulfil his promise. They'd stopped at a few different stalls along the way, and had learnt that both of them were appalling at the coconut shy, and that they were both horrendously weak when they took the strength test.

With a swift flick of the wrist, Taron threw his fifth and final ring, and the crowd around him cheered as it spun around one of the glass bottles.

"That's five! Congratulations. Take your pick of the jumbo prizes, any of these up front." The stallholder gestured above where the boys were stood to the largest stuffed toys Richard had ever seen.

"Rich?" Taron prompted, grinning at his friend, "I told you I was gonna win it for you, so, which do you want?" Richard's cheeks flushed pink, and he shook his head.

"You're unbelievable. Well..." He looked along the row, weighing up his options. "I'll have the duck please."

"Sure thing, Sir." The stallholder walked around the counter, using a stick to unhook the toy and get it down from the roof for Richard. "Very well done."

The boys turned and walked away from the stall, both looking at the ginormous toy Richard was holding. Richard laughed, causing Taron to cast him a confused look.

"You're a knob, Taron Egerton. Now I've got to carry this stupid duck around with me all night!" He shook his head, unable to contain his smile. "That is, if your mummy's quite alright with us staying out after dark."

Taron scoffed, gently pushing his friend. "You're kidding? First year we're all actually allowed to drink at the festival. Besides, I'm a big boy now. I've stayed out past curfew at least twice." The boys turned to each other to share a grin before breaking into laughter. Even after three years of only occasional letters and phone calls, the boys were still as close as ever. In fact, they were physically much closer, as they were both afraid of wasting a second of time apart.

"Bad boy Taron, eh? Why don't we go see if your granddad will look after Ducky? Then we can go and get some drinks, maybe find the boys? They said they'd come along and meet up with us at some point."

As selfish as it was, Taron really didn't want to meet up with the others. He wanted Richard all to himself. Rationally, he knew this wasn't fair. He was a good enough person to know that everyone would want to see Richard and he couldn't get upset if he paid other people attention, especially seeing as Taron would almost definitely get far more attention than anyone else. Still, part of him wanted to suggest just going home and talking in his room, or just sitting in each other's company like they used to. This part was overruled by the rest of his brain, which encouraged his legs to head back towards his grandfather's stall.

"Sure. I'm sure we can just throw it in the car, he won't mind. Do you have any idea where they might be?" He asked, turning to face Richard when the other boy laughed. "Yes?"

Richard stopped and held the toy duck up, nodding to himself. "Yep, yep. It definitely looks like you."

"Shut up! I do not look like that duck!" Taron laughed, pushing Richard and continuing to walk.

"Oh but you do, pet. Or, would you prefer to be called duck?"

"Taron works."

"Whatever you say, ducky."

———

After about an hour of aimless wandering (after the duck had been put in the car, and Taron had been bullied some more) the pair eventually found their two other friends. It was bizarre to Richard that they found them outside the beer tent, each with a beer in their hands. Of course, they were all old enough for it, and it was fully legal, he just remembered them all as fifteen year olds. Even though back home he'd bought himself drinks, it was strange that his friends had aged without him. Still, he wasn't going to object when Taron offered to buy him a beer and disappeared into the beer tent.

"So, are you back long?" Jamie asked, turning his attention solely to Richard.

"Three weeks," Richard said, looking down at the ground.

"That's ages, mate," Charlie chimed in, trying his best to offer Richard a reassuring smile, "Are things good up there?"

Richard nodded, looking back up to smile at his friends. "Yeah, it's alright. Pretty boring. Imagine this place, except with less friends, less people and more sheep. And horses, there's a bizarre amount of horses." Jamie snorted, causing both boys to look over at him.

"Did you... Did you call them horsies?"

"Horses. Horses, Jamie!" Richard laughed. His time back in his home country had brought his accent back. Living in Wales had dulled it slightly, especially as everyone was used to hearing it, so everyone he'd spoken to had certainly noticed how strongly it had returned.

Always a master of timing, Taron chose this moment to exit the beer tent, with two bottles of Corona in his hands. "So, Richard's lost his mind?" He asked, laughing as he looked between the three men, "What happened for me to come back to Richard yelling 'horsies'?"

"Horses!" Richard shouted again, causing Jamie and Charlie to laugh, whilst Taron still just looked confused. "God. I would never have come back if I'd have known that I was going to get bullied for how I sound." He took one bottle from Taron, nodding as he spoke his thanks.

"Don't worry, Dicky, we all love you," Jamie said, laughing as he wrapped an arm around Richard and squeezed his shoulder. "Now, let's get out of everyone's way. I wanna see if anyone can beat me at the Kentucky Derby."

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