bambi eyes || tradley

8. your touch

Brown eyes took in the beautiful white house ahead, instantly capturing the attention of the small boy as the vehicle made its way down the long driveway leading to it. It was perfect - large and homey with a fake deer planted in the bright, green grass.

"Wow," Bambi whispered in astonishment, "is this your home?"

"No, I just parked in a random driveway," Tristan sarcastically replied.

The brown-eyed boy furrowed his brows. "What? Why would you do that?"

"Yes," Tristan told him, rolling his eyes, "yes, this is my home, Bambi."

"Oh." He questioningly blinked at the man before redirecting his eyes towards the house. "It is very pretty, Tris."

"Thank you," he said. "Now, Bambi, we have to figure out a name that we can use for you while we're around my parents."

He blankly stared at him before deciding: "I like Bambi."

"That's more of like a... nickname," Tristan tried. "Can you think of a name that's more normal?"

"A name more normal?" he questioned, like the blond was speaking gibberish.

"Like, I don't know... How do you like Gabe?"

"I do not know who Gabe is."

The twenty-one-year-old let out an exasperated sigh. "I mean, how do you like the name?"

"Oh." He pressed a finger to his bottom lip, contemplating the name with furrowed brows. "I do not like it," he decided.

"Can you think of anyone you've known before that you could use the name of?"

"Hm," he thoughtfully said, "I like the name Tristan. You can call me Tristan."

"You can't be Tristan, Bambi."

A frown replaced the smile on his face. "Why not?"

"Because"-he sighed again-"I'm Tristan."

"I know that. I want to be Tristan, too."

"You have to pick another name," he informed him.

The boy pressed his finger to his lip again, deep in thought before a smile grew on his lips and a metaphorical light bulb shined brightly over his head. "Oh, I remember a name."

"What is it?"

"It is Brad."

"Brad!" the blue-eyed boy exclaimed, letting out a sigh of relief. "That's perfect. From now on - as long as my parents are around - you're Brad, okay?"

"Okay." The blond extended his arm over the small boy and pushed the door open for him, waiting until he climbed out of the vehicle before climbing out of it himself.

Fear coursed throughout his body as they made their way up the three steps leading to the screen door, suitcase and shopping bags in hand. He had hoped his parents weren't upset that he'd randomly arrived to their house on such short notice, along with a stranger they most likely wouldn't understand. His mum and dad weren't quick to judge, though, and he knew if he explained the circumstances they'd welcome the two boys in their home with open arms. But the twenty-one-year-old already knew he wasn't going to mention how they'd met, or when they'd met. His parents would go mad, and then most likely kick Bambi out of their house.

Before the blue-eyed man had a chance to bring his finger to the doorbell, the young boy had already beat him to it, pressing his finger into it repeatedily, like the time he'd randomly shown up at Tristan's apartment. The blond quickly swatted his hand away as his dad questioningly appeared behind the screen door.