Richard yawned and stretched as he opened his eyes in the dim grey light of morning. Since it was summer, the day had stretched to the point that dawn began at four with the gradual brightening of the distant fields. A sigh rumbled in his throat as he lay on his side staring through the open window, almost glaring at the rolling clouds. The familiar feeling of not wanting to get up washed over him before he swiftly pushed it aside. No one else was going to clear the fields and get the horses out before Allen arrived, and if he didn't do it today, he wouldn't do it tomorrow. With that in mind, he pushed himself up with a quiet grumble.

"And where do you think you're going at fuck-knows-o'clock in the morning?" Hank's gruff voice objected as he threw his bare legs over the edge of the bed. Richard almost jumped out of his skin, having forgotten his little invitation the night before. It surprised him Hank had taken him up on it, especially since it appeared he'd simply climbed into bed to sleep with him. Sleep and nothing else. It wasn't the first time. He'd stayed over the night of the fox attack too, offering comfort and cuddles after what had been a nasty shock. This was the first time he'd done it since though.

"The fields." It seemed perfectly obvious to Richard, though he hesitated as he noticed Hank propping himself up on one arm. The light sheet had fallen to his bare waist, leaving his burly chest on full display. The thought of stroking his fingers through the soft layer of curls was more than a little tempting.

"They can wait an hour or two." Richard's brow furrowed at that. It was true they could wait, but it was also true that he'd fall out of his routine if he didn't stick to it. "You're seriously going to leave me to go shovel shit in a field?" Well, when he put it like that...Hank chuckled softly as Richard returned to lie beside him and wrapped an arm around his slim waist. Richard turned to face him, shuffling closer until he could rest his head against his chest. Hank knew they wouldn't be able to stay like that for long in the summer heat, but there was something to be said for the feeling of hot breath on his chest and the clammy touch of Richard's skin.

Richard usually wore cotton pyjamas to bed, but he'd foregone the extra layer last night, crawling beneath the sheet in just his boxers. Hank was similarly dressed, the tight material hugging his ass as Richard's hand crept over his hip. Hank huffed softly, teasing his fingers through Richard's hair as he nuzzled his pecs. It was a lazier sort of affection than usual. Neither of them were in the mood that morning, still satisfied from the night before. It was sort of nice, being together like this without the expectation of anything else. Hank could only guess Richard felt the same, because it wasn't long before his breaths softened, and as Hank looked down to check, he found him sleeping soundly once more.

This was actually the first time he'd really examined Richard's face. He looked a lot younger when he was sleeping, a few of the lines on his face thinning out as his muscles relaxed. His lips parted slightly, leaving soft huffs of breath on his skin that would soon become unpleasant in the heat. Running his fingers through his hair, Hank pushed the fluffed locks away from his brow. It was only now he noticed how long and thick his eyelashes were. They curved to brush his cheeks, barely moving as his eyes twitched. A gentle murmur slipped out, lips thinning slightly as he stirred and slipped into slumber once more. As he stroked his cheek, Hank could feel the rough prickle of morning stubble growing through, something Richard usually righted straight away. He truly was perfectly unremarkable. The definition of ordinary, but that was what Hank found so charming. How he had effortlessly captivated him despite his average looks.

Hank was content to lie beside him, settling down and holding him against his chest. The light breeze from the open window gave a little relief to the clammy heat of their skin, making the closeness more bearable. He wasn't sure he fell asleep, but he did rest his tired blue eyes and enjoy the sound of breaking dawn. Nines' obnoxious squawks were soon piercing the air, followed by Gavin's distant response. It was rather shocking that all the noise didn't rouse Richard at all, which made Hank wonder if he was sleeping enough.

The morning crows soon ended, and Hank could only guess he had fallen asleep himself, because the next thing he knew there was a light bang downstairs where the back door had opened and shut. His eyes pinched at the noise, sleepily registering someone else was in the house as the sun streamed through the window. Footsteps on the stairs roused him further, and then a familiar voice was calling for Richard in the hall. Richard didn't wake up until a knock sounded on the bedroom door. His whole body jerked in shock, dark eyes heavy with sleep as they snapped open, and he rolled onto his back with a horrified hum.

"Richie? Are you okay in there?" Allen's voice called. Richard's eyes widened as he looked at Hank like a deer in headlights. Hank wasn't sure what the big deal was, unless he really did have something going on with Allen. Sitting up, Richard stammered a little, looking around for something to pull on.

"U-uh-yeah-I'm fine!" He sounded less than convincing, making Hank raise a questioning eyebrow as he settled himself against the headboard to enjoy the show. Cursing under his breath, Richard looked at the clock and saw it was almost ten in the morning. That was six hours later than he usually got up. No wonder Allen had hurried straight up to the house. The fields hadn't been shovelled, and the horses were unfed, still locked in their stalls and probably kicking their doors with impatience.

"Are you sure you're alright? It isn't like you to-" The words died on his lips as he opened the door and stepped inside looking worried. That worry soon changed to wide-eyed surprise as he took in the sight of Hank lounging against the headboard and Richard leaning over the side of the bed to grab a pair of discarded jeans. With their state of undress, it wasn't really a mystery what was going on. Richard cursed under his breath and half glared as Allen's surprise melted into a smug smirk. He crossed his arms and legs, grinning widely as he leaned on the doorframe and nodded a polite greeting to Hank. "Hank. Good to see you again. So...late night?"

"Don't." Hank smirked at Richard's warning as he glared over his shoulder and covered his tired eyes. Allen stifled a laugh from the door, still grinning as Richard finally snagged his jeans and pulled them on. "Sorry, I should have been out hours ago."

"Oh-no-no, don't rush on my account! I'll just go and start breakfast." Something told him Richard would need the boost that morning, either from his activities the night before or the shock of being woken up like that. He backed out before Richard could object, closing the door behind him. Rubbing his eyes, Richard cursed under his breath. It felt like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't, but that wasn't really true. He and Hank were both single adults, so there wasn't really anything to worry about there, and although Hank was older, it was only around ten years. That gap meant a lot less with him being in his forties than it would have a few decades ago. A twenty-year-old dating someone in their thirties was bordering on taboo, but a man in his forties dating someone in their fifties? No one batted an eyelash.

"At least you don't have to tell him now," Hank teased with a shrug, though that wasn't a concern to Richard. Allen already knew about their first little tryst, but he hadn't shared anything since. It had never crossed his mind to tell Allen about whatever this thing with Hank was, but it wasn't a secret, either. Now it crossed his mind he couldn't help but wonder...What is this thing with Hank? They'd slept with each other enough at this point for it to be considered a thing. But what kind of thing was it? Were they dating or casually hooking up at any given opportunity? They'd done dinner a couple of times, and Hank had stayed over, but what did that mean? Maybe Allen could help him with those answers. He'd always been better at this sort of thing, which wasn't surprising considering his good looks. "Unless you were planning on keeping it a secret?" Hank seemed a little troubled by the thought.

"No, not really...I just hadn't thought about it." Hank wasn't sure if he should be surprised by that or not. Like Richard, he didn't have many people to confide in. The closest he had these days was Rose, and he hadn't been to the pub on his own for quite a while now. Not since this thing with Richard had started. It was probably a side effect of them being loners that made sharing things like this seem sort of trivial. What did it matter to Allen or Rose that they were sleeping together? "Will you join us for breakfast?" It was hard to tell if it was a question or an invitation, but Hank took it as the latter.

"Sure. You want to shower first?" They were both a little sticky from the night before. The summer heat was awful, leaving old sweat cloying on their skin. With a nod, Richard led the way into the bathroom and left Hank to turn on the shower while he shaved and brushed his teeth. By the time he was done, Hank had already scrubbed himself clean. Richard paused by the tub, watching the suds trickling down his body until Hank noticed him. "You going to take your pants off and get in here, or..." He let the question hang with a grin as he ran his fingers through his sodden locks and waited.

It was still something of a treat, watching Richard strip himself. He was coy, gingerly covering himself and looking at his feet as he climbed in the tub, despite how many times they'd seen each other naked by now. Hank pulled him under the spray, enjoying the feeling of having his petite body against his chest. Uncertain arms locked around his neck and tentative lips sought his own. They both enjoyed their closeness throughout the brief shower, and were soon on their way down to breakfast, Hank once again wearing clothes from the night before. If he keeps coming over like this, maybe I should offer him some closet space here...Next door wasn't far, but surely it would be more convenient to shower and change straight into new clothes.

"Sit down, sit down, it's nearly ready!" Allen greeted as they entered the kitchen, with Richard leading the way. His brow furrowed as he took a seat at the island counter, which doubled as a breakfast bar. The smell of bacon made his mouth water, but he also wondered where it came from. He certainly hadn't bought any recently. He could only guess Allen had stopped by the shops on his way over. It wasn't unusual for him to turn up out of the blue with a stock of food to foist on him. Putting food in his fridge was often the only way to make him eat. If it was there and it would go off, he had to do something with it.

"Wow, you're quite the cook," Hank complimented as he watched Allen plating the three large breakfasts. There was bacon and eggs, sausages, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, and stacks of buttered toast. Each plate looked big enough to feed a man twice Hank's size, which was a little concerning to Richard, who usually ate a third of that. While Allen finished plating, Richard slinked around him to get the teapot ready. Allen had already boiled the water, knowing he'd want a cup of tea with breakfast. As Allen thanked him and continued plating, Hank turned his attention to Richard, leaning his chin on his hand as he watched him perform his own private tea ceremony. Everything was measured and precise, from spooning the leaves to pouring the water.

"You didn't have to go to so much trouble." Richard felt a little awkward at having his friend fuss over him so much. It was a lot of work, cooking a meal like this.

"If I didn't cook like this, you wouldn't eat for a week!" That was an exaggeration. The longest he'd gone before was two days, at which point he'd almost fainted right off his horse. Unfortunately, Allen had been there and hadn't let him forget it since. That was over a decade ago. He was a lot better about it these days. His meals were never big, but he always ate something. Hank didn't know the story behind this fussing, but he wholeheartedly agreed.

"You're so thin you look like the wind would snap you in two!" Richard pouted at that as he poured out three cups of tea. His own remained black, but both Hank and Allen took milk and sugar. It always surprised him how Allen maintained his weight with the sweet tooth he had. He added three cubes to his cup and ate a fourth straight from the bowl.

"And here I thought you liked being able to snap me in two," Richard shot back, hiding himself behind his cup as Allen snorted and pushed a full plate across to him. It really was too much for him. Two eggs, three rashers of bacon, three sausages, a full tomato, three large mushrooms, a sea of beans, and four slices of toast was pretty much two breakfasts. It was unlikely he'd finish it all, but it was Allen's cooking, so he'd put in a valiant effort. He couldn't help moaning at the first bite. Fried breakfasts were a rare treat, and no one cooked them like Allen. Allen knew it, too. He couldn't help feeling smug as he sipped his tea and watched Richard nibbling his way through the plate. Hank was far less delicate, taking large bites and eating like they were on a timer. He'd finished before Richard had even managed a quarter of his food. Despite that, he was polite. He remained at the table, sharing a polite conversation with Allen about their plans for the day.

"I'll be checking on Bessie first. She'll be having her foal soon, and I want to see how far along she is." Hank remembered from the night before that Richard had been worried. He didn't need to worry anymore. Allen had already brought in his overnight bag, which was packed with enough clothes for at least three days, just in case there were complications. "This might be a good time to get some of the deep cleans done, too. It's not often that I stay for more than a day at a time, so it's a good time to pick up on those big jobs." By big jobs, Hank knew he meant the heavy lifting jobs he didn't want Richard to worry about.

"Let me know if you have anything you need help with. Some jobs are easier with two." Richard wasn't sure if he was being neighbourly or if Allen had wormed his way into Hank's good graces with his cooking. Either way, Allen gladly accepted his offer and assured him he'd let him know if he needed help. Richard, already a slow eater, slowed further as he reached the halfway point. There was something homely and comfortable about having both Hank and Allen at the island. They were taking up just one corner. Allen was on the end with Richard at the corner, and then Hank. It was pretty cosy with all of them so close together. A fine way to pass the morning.

Seeing him picking at his food, Hank finally took pity on him and helped by finishing the sausage, bacon, and egg he had left, leaving him with just the mushrooms and toast. Allen didn't judge him too much. He had managed to work his way through two-thirds of a plate that was really far too large. It was a wonder he hadn't given up sooner, but Allen knew he was a sucker for fried breakfasts, even at the height of summer. Clapping him on the shoulder, Allen took the plates and went to wash up, insisting he was fine and suggesting they check on the chickens. That seemed like a good plan to Richard, who was eager to see how Nines and the two injured hens were doing.

Hank helped him climb over the fence and joined him in the pen. The yard was strangely quiet without Connor, who was still shut in the house. The two hens had improved a lot. They'd perked up a little since the day before, and though their wounds weren't healed, they had scabbed over. Nines was still feeling a little sorry for himself, nursing a broken wing, but the cuts were at least starting to heal. As for the rest of his chickens, they scuttled their way out of the coop the moment the door was opened. Having recovered from the shock of the attack, it seemed they'd developed cabin fever from being inside for so long. It was nice to see them out and about, happily clucking and pecking at the earth.

"You think a visit from Gavin might cheer him up?" Richard asked worriedly as he lifted Nines in his arms and stroked his comb. He wasn't as pathetic as when he'd first come home, but he still seemed miserable and out of sorts as he sat in Richard's arms. He didn't flap or kick, and his head seemed to droop a lot more than usual. Hank hummed thoughtfully as he came to join him, checking Nines' wounds again and glancing across at his own coop.

"We can try, but I told you, chickens can be nasty fuckers." It wouldn't be the first time Nines and Gavin had fought, either. They'd even had a tiff just minutes after their first little tryst. There was really no telling how they might react. Since Nines usually took the male role, this may become an opportunity for Gavin to fight his way to the top. Richard seemed worried, but he was also worried about leaving Nines as he was. He seemed pretty depressed, possibly because he'd been alone for two days. "I'll go let Connor and Sumo out and bring Gavin over. We can stick around the watch them, and if Gavin misbehaves, I'll take him back." That seemed reasonable enough.

Richard sat on Nines' closed crate, still cradling him in his arms as Hank left. It was really no surprise when a series of loud barks sounded a few moments later, and Connor went careening across the yard. It didn't take long for him to notice Richard in the pen. He arrived at the mesh, panting and snuffling, and settled down a few moments later. Richard did his best to ignore the big brown eyes that stared at him hopefully through the mesh, looking away from the paw that raised to scratch at the wire. No way was he going to go over there and put his fingers through the mesh. Not a chance.

Hank arrived not long after, with Gavin tucked securely under his arm. Richard swallowed nervously as he put the glossy brown rooster down, holding Nines a little closer at first. Gavin flapped and skittered over to hop and claw at his feet, clearly demanding he be allowed to see his mate. Richard was slow as he held Nines out, ready to lift him up again if Gavin pecked. Holding them face to face, he watched as the roosters bobbed their heads and rubbed beaks. Their coos became softer, almost like they were talking, and Richard felt a little happier about putting Nines on the ground.

Gavin flapped and hopped around him, and seemed perplexed when Nines didn't return the gesture. Nines opened his unbound wing, but he couldn't fluff and flap as he usually did. He seemed smaller somehow, dejected and sorry for himself. Where he usually pecked the earth and tossed Gavin treats, he now pattered around feeling lost and uncertain. It seemed Gavin understood something was wrong as he clucked and shuffled up to him. Richard watched, ready to step in, as Gavin nudged and nestled himself against Nines' chest. It was almost like he was nuzzling him, offering comfort and reassurance. Nines lowered his head on Gavin's neck, gently groomed his brown feathers.

Hank seemed relaxed as he joined him, not at all worried about Gavin attacking Nines. Gavin seemed determined to cheer him up as he scratched and pecked the earth, digging up whatever morsels he could find and bringing them to Nines. Rather than tossing them, he held them up directly to his beak, as if he thought he was too weak to bend down and get them by himself. Nines accepted the affection, greedily eating what he was given and stroking Gavin's beak in thanks. He finally seemed to get a little pep in his step, walking with a little more confidence as Gavin hopped around him.

Richard watched curiously as Gavin opened his wings and shuffled around Nines, puffing his neck and fluffing his comb. His green tail feathers almost glistened in the late morning sun, and as he puffed himself up, he looked bigger than usual. Nines fluffed what feathers he could, but with his wing strapped, there was only so much he could do. He whipped his tail feathers almost flirtatiously, turning in a circle and cooing. Gavin followed, still beating his wings and puffing his chest until Nines finally settled on the ground and opened his free wing in invitation.

Gavin was tentative as he approached, taking in the sight of Nines' bowed form with a calculating air. It was almost like he understood his injury as he hopped on his back, apparently doing his best to keep his weight on the uninjured side. Nines coos seemed mournful at first, head lowered in a show of self-pity. Gavin, ever attentive, fluffed his tail and settled down to pluck and tease Nines' neck feathers, encouraging him to lift his head as he got into position. It always surprised Richard how fast it was. They barely seemed to even touch and Gavin had hopped down and hurried to the front to nudge and nuzzle Nines' chest. It was almost sweet, the way he settled on the ground and let Nines use his back as a pillow.