fly | madderton

THREE

"Morning, Richard," Taron greeted, smiling as his best friend descended the stairs. "Sleep well?"

"Like a baby. That bed is a million and one times more comfortable than your floor, why on earth did you wait for me to leave to get a spare bed?" Richard asked, a soft laugh in his voice. Taron grinned, lifting his glass of orange juice to his lips.

"Trying to make you leave faster," He said once he'd had his drink, provoking a laugh from both boys, "I've just had some toast. Do you want me to make you anything?"

"I'll get some myself, don't worry. If I can remember where everything is." Richard joked, setting about making himself some breakfast. Taron leaned back in his chair at the little dining table, smiling at the sight in front of him. He almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was absolutely crazy to him that Richard was back, living in his house. He'd already told his mum off before she'd left for work this morning, telling her he couldn't believe she hadn't told him, both because he would have loved to know, and because she'd forever been terrible at keeping secrets. After he'd whined about her not telling him, he'd spent quite some time telling her how thankful he was, and how much he loved her for getting Richard down.

There'd been some big conspiracy between the two. Richard knew that both he and Taron would have a long summer free, so had an idea in his head about coming down to visit. It wasn't until he rang to speak to Taron and his mum picked up instead that they started conspiring, and decided to make it some big secret. His mother had chased Taron out of the house that prior morning with the excuse of wanting to clean up, and telling him that his grandfather had specifically requested help setting up the table. That's how far the conspiracy went - even Taron's grandparents were involved in ensuring the secret was well kept. It worked. Taron was well and truly surprised to see Richard at the festival.

"What's the plan for today?" Richard asked, sitting beside Taron at the table. Taron couldn't help but smile at the scenario, him sat at the head of the table with Richard by his side, just as it had always been. Of course, it just happened out of habit. Richard hadn't intended to provoke any memories, he'd simply sat where he always sat.

"Well, my mum said she wanted us to go out and get some stuff for her, but I thought we could maybe take it easy today? If that's alright with you, of course. I was thinking we could go to the shops, then come back and have a pj day? We've got quite a bit of catching up to do, Mr Madden."

"We sure do. I've got all sorts of exciting stories to tell you about my new village. You know, sometimes the sheep get out of the field, and then they all stand on the road until they're put back in the field. And that's just a taste of the exhilarating life I'm leading," Richard feigned his bragging, leaning back in his chair to smile at Taron.

"Wow, do tell me more." Taron leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand and his elbow on the table as he cast his best interested, lovestruck gaze at Richard, "Please. My life won't be worth living unless I hear the stories about the sheep."

"Get this. One time, the trough next to our house froze over, so I stomped on the ice and broke it."

"No."

"Yep."

"My God, Richard Madden. I'm jealous. Can't believe you're living the high life now."

They both laughed, continuing to tuck into Richard's toast (Taron took the liberty of taking half a slice for himself). It wasn't long before they were making a second round, and realised that there was only one slice of bread left, and it was the crust. Neither boy particularly wanted to eat the crust of the bread, and so decided to get dressed and go straight out to the shops to get more ingredients for breakfast. And dinner, and tea. And some snacks, whilst they were there. And Taron's mother's baking supplies, and some extra for themselves. And a few more snacks, just in case. It, surprisingly, didn't take them too long for them to collect what they needed and get back home. Nor did it take them long to make a mess of the kitchen, which Taron's mum had so carefully cleaned the day before in preparation for Richard's arrival.

"Rich! Oh my God!" Taron turned away from the food to cough, laughing between choking into the crook of his elbow. Richard did practically the same, unable to hold back his laughter. In pouring the flour onto the scales from the bag, he'd tipped it too high and caused most of the bag to fall out, which sent clouds of flour into the air, which both boys had subsequently begun to choke on.

"Sorry!" He laughed, putting the bag on the side and stepping away until his laughter subsided. He'd not suffered too badly from the self-inflicted smoking, but Taron had seemingly inhaled half the bag of flour, the way he was choking. He was doubled over, one hand on his knee whilst he coughed into the other elbow. As much as he wanted to help and check that Taron was okay, all Richard could do was laugh at the situation, and hope Taron wasn't about to die.

Eventually, they both got their breath back, and their laughing subsided long enough for Taron to start spooning the excess flour off the scales and into the bag, whilst Richard was sat in a heap on the floor. "You're a knob." Taron told him, a smile on his face as he tried to measure out the correct amount of flour.

"I know," Richard laughed, finally pushing himself off the floor again and moving over to the sink to wash his hands, "You love me, though."

"Wish I could deny it." Taron raised his eyebrows, then turned to Richard with yet another laugh passing his lips. "Come on. I thought you were helping? Get those ingredients beaten whilst I try fix your mess."

"Sir." Richard complied with his friend's demands, picking up the electric whisk that Taron had been using to continue beating in the eggs. Whilst they were in the shop, they'd decided to make some cookies, leading to the aforementioned mess of the kitchen. Somehow they'd managed to cover practically every surface, and they hadn't even mixed the first bowl of ingredients.

Richard was slightly surprised at Taron's baking prowess. He knew Taron could bake, but the boy hadn't even glanced at a recipe to double-check what he thought, he'd instead just got on and started measuring out ingredients. Richard's attempt at baking in such a way would probably result in someone dying, or at least throwing up the monstrosity he had made and, whilst he was yet to see the end result of Taron's attempt, he was pretty sure they'd be good.

Good was not the best word to describe the cookies they made. Not even to describe the smell of the house as the boys got to work scrubbing the kitchen counter. It was divine.

And, well, they might have eaten ten of the twelve whilst they watched TV. They very nearly ate all twelve, but Taron insisted on leaving some for his parents. He'd been insisting since they were both on their third biscuit, but had finally put his foot down when it came to the last two.

"Plan for tomorrow?" Richard asked, causing Taron to look up at him with a faint smile. Five cookies had taken a toll on him, so he'd laid on the sofa with his head on Richard's lap whilst Richard gently played with his hair.

"Out. The boys have planned something for us. Not mega early, I think they said they'd pick us up nine ish."

"Nine? Not mega early? You've changed." Richard teased, playing with a curl of hair.

"Shut up." Taron turned his head to hide his smile, "You're worse than me. I was up first this morning, wasn't I? Lazybones."

"I was in the bathroom. Couldn't reach the tap to do my teeth because someone's gotten rid of the step."

Taron laughed, turning to face Richard again. "Yeah. Sad, that. We donated a lot of stuff to the home mum visits, and sadly it got caught in the crossfire. It didn't go without a fight, though."

"I bet." A smile was brought to Richard's face as Taron yawned and laid his head back down on Richard's legs, so he was facing the TV. Whilst moving as little as he could as to not disturb his friend, he leaned over towards the other end of the settee to grab the blanket, which was folded over the back, and drape it over Taron. There was a muttered thanks heard as Taron wrapped it around his arm and pulled it close to his chin. Richard couldn't tell if he was actually falling asleep or if he'd just decided to watch TV now, but either way, he was content.

He never, ever wanted to leave.