cheater; tradley

nineteen

"Well I get that, Tristan, but why are you so jumpy? Why are you running around like a crazy man?"

The tall boy shrugs, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Can you at least slow down? I've lost ten pounds chasing you."

This time, Tristan just shakes his head in disagreement, and then lowers himself slightly and motions to his own back. "Get on."

"What?" Brad asks, head tilted in confusion.

"Get on my back. I'm giving you a piggy back ride."

"A...A piggy back ride? Why?"

"You're slowing me down, here, Mr. Simpson. Get on my back or keep up."

"Trist–"

"Brad!"

"Fine, fine," Bradley shakes his head, following his friends' instructions and jumping onto his back.

He clutches the blondes shoulders tightly, afraid of falling, but the taller boy grabs Brad's thighs to prevent that. The curly-haired boy rests his chin on Tristan's shoulder and can feel him tense under his chin and fingertips, his breathing paused, and a ghost of a smile crosses Bradley's face.

"Are we going to get baking soda or not?"

Tristan seems to snap back to reality right then, and he laughs awkwardly, nodding and then speeding forward. "Okay. Okay, what aisle would it be in?"

"I have no idea. Probably with the flour. Which is..." Brad peers up at the signs hanging about the lanes and scans word after word. "Aisle six."

"Off to aisle six we go!"

Tristan basically sprints, or sprints as well as possible with someone on his back, to said aisle, and only slows when he sees how many other people are milling around.

"Baking soda, baking soda..."

Brad calls Tristan's name, but the boy below him doesn't seem to notice, even when Brad pokes his sides repeatedly, apparently too concentrated on finding the missing ingredient. Poke, poke. Still no answer, and Brad huffs, annoyed.

"Trissy," Brad coos quietly, resting his head against the older boys neck and looking up at him with big eyes.

The movement of Brad's head resting on him completely, in comparison to just his chin, is enough to shake the blonde out of whatever trance he was in. He turns to the younger boy, a nervous smile on his face.

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I just kinda...concentrated, you know? In my own world."

"It's fine," Brad used his head to motion down the aisle a bit. "I think the baking soda is over there."

Tristan nods and strolls to where his friend pointed, searching the shelves to no avail. He grins mischievously, turning to look at Bradley and changing his voice to imitate him. "The baking soda is over there. I don't see the baking soda."

"Hey," Bradley scoffs. "I said I think. Not I'm sure." Under his voice, he jokes, "Plus, I'm always right. I'm surprised it isn't over here."

"Oh, haha, I'm Brad, everyone. I know everything."

"Shut up. I do not sound like that."

"Oh, but I think you do."

"Tris, do you want me to dropkick you?"

"Big threats coming from a little man. You're also on my back. I could drop you at any second."

Bradley narrows his eyes. "You wouldn't think about it. You love me too much."

"That so?" Tristan questions, and when Brad nods, the older boy pretends to drop him, grip on Bradley tight as ever. "How 'bout now?"

"You didn't drop me, though. You wouldn't actually drop me." Brad explains, quite sure of himself.

Tristan reenacts letting go of his friend for a second time, this time allowing him to slide down a bit, only grabbing him when Bradley shouts out, "Tris!"

"Yeah?"

The curly-haired boy just laughs, cute, small, giggles that fill the air and cause the blonde to laugh as well. "Tris, we still need that baking soda."

"Are you looking for this?" A quiet voice comes from behind the two boys. Tristan spins around and comes face to face with a small, older woman, who has her arm outstretched towards them, a container of baking soda clutched in her palm.

"Oh, yes," Bradley speaks. "Thank you so much."

"Of course. Here you go."

Tristan grabs the container, holding it in one hand, the other still tightly around Brad's leg. With no more words being said, he's just about to turn away when the woman's words stop him.

"I just wanted to tell you how cute you two are together," Confusion fills both boys, but it's gone within seconds. "I mean, I know how some people in society view same-sex relationships and all, but I just wanted to say that you two seem perfect for each other."

"Oh, we're, um," Tristan stutters slowly. "Um."

"We're not..."

"Oh my, it's getting late. I must be off. It was nice chatting with you two. Best wishes for your future."

"I..." Tristan trails off as they watch the woman walk away.

"Well then. That was...something."

"Yeah...it was something." Tristan repeats, and his laugh is a little too forced."

"Okay, well we got the baking soda. Let's go pay, and then we can finally finish making our cookies."

Tristan nods awkwardly, mind still reeling over the woman's words. "Yeah. Let's do that."