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"What's that you're eating?" Miles sat down at the table and kissed the top of Alex's head in greeting.
Alex mumbled incoherently. He cleared his throat and held out his hand. "Wensleydale cheese with blueberries. I got it at the Tesco Express when I went out for some milk."
Miles took the wedge of cheese from Alex and sniffed it cautiously. He broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth. Alex's eyes widened expectantly as Alex slowly chewed and swallowed. He blinked and smiled brightly.
"That may be the best bloody cheese I've ever eaten in me life! It's better than Stilton, even. Where did you say it's from, again?"
Alex giggled and practically purred in contentment. "Wensleydale. It's Yorkshire cheese. It's really sweet, eh? It's really good to pair with wine, or milk, if you prefer."
Miles took another bite. "What if I want to eat it whilst drinking Yorkshire tea? D'ya think we can make that happen?"
"Sure, I've a box of Yorkshire Gold up in the cupboard. I'll boil some water and steep a few bags." He stood up and kissed Miles's cheek before he walked into the flat's small kitchen.
He reached to pull the cupboard open, but Miles covered his hand with his own. "Hold on, Al. I was only jokin'. I'm sure I'd like it well enough on its own, but I don't really want to drink black tea and eat crumbly cheese at the same time. Come sit and talk with me for a bit. I'm going to the studio in about an hour."
Alex's face fell. He went from being relatively calm and content to looking completely forlorn so fast that it was almost comical. Miles covered his mouth with his hand to hide his grin.
"Don't look so devvoed, love. You knew that I'd 'ave to go back to work sooner or later. I'm doin' a little concert in a couple of weeks, I've got to start rehearsing for it. You know, I can't just pay the rent and utilities with me good looks, can I? I 'ave to work for a livin', don't I?"
Alex's mouth dropped open. "You rent this place? I thought you owned it outright."
Miles sniggered and kissed Alex's hand, still clasped in his. "The only son of a single mum who was a butcher and a half-absent dad who ran a cafe. A working class lad, descended from a long line of working-class Scousers. An indie singe-songwriter with no uni degree, and no other marketable skills. This is a pretty posh flat. It costs me 3,000 quid per month. I love that you thought I owned it."
Alex's mouth set in a firm line. His eyes seemed to crackle with energy as he stared intently at Miles.
"I had no idea. Mi, I want to thank you for your hospitality. You saved my life. You're me best mate, and I love you, but...I have to go. Phone me when you're done at the studio, yeah?"