12. reality

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"You said he'd have it figured out by now!" the man angry shouted, watching the vehicle disappear up the road with furrowed brows.

The younger man nervously nibbled at his lip, adding pressure to the bleeding bullet hole in his bicep. "They just need more time."

"Time?" he repeated, like the word was a complete joke to the English vocabulary. "Do y'think we have any more time, James?"

"Tristan's curious. They'll have it figured it out soon enough," he reassured him. The man looked towards the dark-haired boy silently seated on the edge of the bed as he thoughtfully locked his blue eyes on the empty space Tristan's collage used to be placed. "What do you think, Con? Are we running out of time?"

He slowly glanced up at the mention of his nickname, easily nodding at the two men. "Definitely. But if time is what they need, then there can never be enough of it."

. . .

"Slow down, love!" the sixteen-year-old begged, tall blades of grass and yellow sunflowers brushing against his hips as he quickly stumbled after the small boy, out of breath. He ran a hand through his hair darkened with sweat, sucking in a large intake of fresh air before continuing his journey after the smaller boy speeding through the grass towards the lake.

The brown-eyed boy paused, excitedly pointing towards the large pool of water across the street. "Catch up!" he encouraged, turning away from the older boy and dashing to the other side, shoes in hand.

A breathy sigh crossed the blond's lips as he chased after him, sprinting across the street with black sock-covered feet. He could see the teenager pulling his shirt over a headful of curls, chucking it onto the grass before unbuckling his belt and dropping his jeans around his ankles. "Don't!" Tristan shouted just as the younger boy flipped backwards into the pool of shimmering water. He laughed, cuffing his jeans above his knees before pulling off his socks and walking down the dock of the lake.

The curly-haired boy popped from underneath, straightened hair falling around his laughing face. "The water feels great," he informed him, pushing his dripping hair back with a small hand. "You should come inside, babe."

"Haha," Tristan fake laughed, sitting on the grass and letting his feet sink into the cool water. "I told you, I don't know how to swim."

"You don't have to swim." He swam to the edge of the dock towards the blond's feet and wrapped two hands around Tristan's calves. "Come on, I'll be by your side the whole way through."

"I don't know."

He extended his arms up to his hands, interlacing their fingers and smiling up at him. "Please, love?"

Tristan bit at the smile on his lips before silently nodding down at the smaller boy and carefully lowering himself into the cool pool of water. The curly-haired boy instantly snaked his arms around Tristan's waist, pulling him close and peppering little kisses along his jaw. The sixteen-year-old chuckled and brought their lips together, sliding a hand up the side of his face before brushing his lips against the smaller boy's. "I love you," the blue-eyed boy said, the pad of his thumb tracing over soft pink lips.

The younger boy smiled, sliding two hands onto his chest. "I love you, too," he said before suddenly shoving the blond into the water and running away to the other side of the lake, his loud, angelic laugh echoing throughout the summer air.

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