bambi eyes || tradley

16. just for a minute

Tristan sat on the edge of the bed as Bambi hooked the videocassette recorder to the hotel's TV. The dark-haired man could only bury his face in his hands, thinking over everything. He couldn't believe this whole time he'd been living a lie. He couldn't believe the story his foster mum made up about his parents. How could she look him in the eyes and tell him that story? It sounded so believeable, and she sounded so hurt to tell him of his past, like she actually cared about him. Neither of his foster parents cared about him. They constantly fed him lies without caring.

"This is tape number one," Bambi explained as he slipped it into the slot.
He clicked play, pulling himself onto his feet and plopping down beside the blue-eyed man as a low quality sixteen-year-old him showed onto the screen. Tristan widened his eyes. He never remembered recording the video. He didn't even remember the background behind his head.

"Hello, Me," he spoke, a sigh crossing bruised lips. He ran a hand through his short blond hair before forcing a smile and continuing. "Right now, you're most likely confused why this video exists. You most likely don't remember ever recording this, and if you don't, then I suggest you to keep watching -"

"Wait," Tristan interrupted. He scurried off the bed, pausing the video before teenage him had a chance to utter any further words. The older boy sat in silence, trying to concentrate on breathing as Bambi slowly lowered on the floor with him.

"Tristan?" the curly-haired boy questioned. "You stopped yourself."

"I'm just not ready," he quietly admitted.

"For what?"

"Finding out." Tristan looked into his concerned eyes. "I don't want to know what I'm going to say. I just found out my mum is actually alive today, and I don't know. I'm not ready."

"I understand." Bambi placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We do not have to watch it right now."

The blue-eyed man nodded, closing his eyes and thinking. Ever since the "psychologist" his life had seemingly shot into fast forward. Even when he slept he felt like too much was happening. His life had changed so drastically in under such little time, the dark-haired boy forgot what it was like to have sanity and relaxation even for a minute.

Tristan turned to the small boy beside him questioningly eyeing the older man. He sucked in a breath. This was a bad idea, but Tristan suddenly felt something -something inexplicable. All he could do was follow his conscious, taking a hold of the brown-eyed boy's hand and gently running a thumb over it. "Can I do something?" the twenty-one-year-old asked.

Bambi looked down at their hands, and then to Tristan. "Sure."

Carefully, Tristan placed a hand on the smaller boy's knee. He looked up at him, watching his eyes as his hand slowly slid up his thigh. The younger boy chuckled. "Is this okay?" Tristan asked.

"Your hand is warm," Bambi happily commented, nodding in response. "Is this all you wanted to do?"

The blue-eyed man shook his head. "You have to close your eyes now, Bambi."

"Is this a surprise?" the twenty-year-old excitedly questioned, eyelids fluttering closed. He smiled widely as the older boy hummed in response. "I love surprises!"

Tristan placed two hands on his shoulders, eyeing the wide, innocent smile on his face. He realised he couldn't do this. He felt like he were tricking the confused boy into doing something that he didn't understand. "Ready?" the dark-haired boy asked. Bambi excitedly nodded before Tristan leaned in and pecked him on the nose.

The curly-haired boy chuckled happily, opening his eyes and slapping a hand over where he'd been kissed. "Thank you, Tristan! You are next."