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dxncingwithastrxnger · 2 years ago

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4. let’s run away and don’t ever look back

A/N: Only 5 days since I posted chapter 1 and we’re already at chapter 4!!! That’s a whole new record for me and I’m already starting chapter 5 as well, I have a good feeling about the rest of the story, tbh 😌 There’s a big Trilance fluff moment right in the beginning, but after that, it’s mostly some other character interactions and plot movements!!! Also, you get introduced to quite a few headcanons of mine in this chapter that I very much enjoyed writing out!! I hope you guys enjoy this one!!!!!

Pairing(s): Tristan x Lancelot, slight Meliodas x Elizabeth

Summary: Tristan and Lance part ways the next morning and Tristan takes the time apart to talk with both Isolde and his parents about his new decision while Lance does the same.

Tags: Aged Up Characters (21-24), fluff, lots and lots of fluff, both platonic fluff and romantic fluff, prescription medication, discussion of characters’ mental disorders, coming out, I think that’s it

Song Inspiration: Teenage Dream By Katy Perry

Word Count: 6,946

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

[3 Months Earlier]

Tristan wakes up feeling like he's on a cloud. Physically and emotionally. A steady heartbeat is heard right below his ear and he smiles, turning his head to nuzzle against the bare chest he was laying on. He hears a snort and lifts his head to look at its origin, the still sleeping blonde man he's tangled up with. He takes a moment to observe Lance. He was so still and quiet, yet even asleep, his face was full of life. His cheeks were colored a soft pink and his lashes fluttered against his skin delicately. His lips were parted slightly, his breathing slow and quiet. Tristan couldn't help but compare him to an angel. A sleeping beauty. Tristan bit back a giggle. Maybe I'm not the only prince. He thinks to himself.

He shakes his head at himself and rolls over, onto his back and off of Lance. He gives a full body stretch, his back arching as he does so. His entire body feels sore in the most pleasant way and he gives a contented hum as he settles back down on the bed. He blinks up at the ceiling, noticing a plain white ceiling fan resting still above him. He pushes himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. The floor is made up of wooden floorboards that are a natural, light brown color. He looks up to look around the room more, curious to learn more about his mysterious Sir Lancelot.

The first thing he sees is plants. There's a large window in the wall in front of him, a cushioned, white bench along the wall right under it that has cupboard doors along the front of it. The window sill looks to be about 5 or 6 inches wide, making it the perfect place for the many potted plants that are placed on it. Tristan stands up and walks over to them, leaning one knee on the bench to observe them closely. There's six plants in all and there's only two that Tristan can really identify at all. A medium size fern and a gathering of peace lilies. The others are all flowers in various colors, ranging from purple to orange to yellow and white. Tristan smiles softly. He stands up and turns around, only to spot more. Some of the same potted purple flowers are on his left nightstand and there were 4 little succulents lined up along the top of his dresser, something he hadn't noticed last night. Tristan looks to the man still sleeping on the bed in the middle of the room, his head tilted slightly. He definitely never could've guessed Lance for a plant dad, especially with this many. But he wasn't complaining, not at all. He was just even more determined to learn more about the man now.

Tristan hummed to himself softly as he looked around the room again, looking for his clothes. He grimaces at the scattered clothes around the room. In the heat of the moment, he doesn't really care, but seeing it now, he feels the immediate urge to clean up. And so he does. He gathers their clothes from the night before and puts them all in the laundry basket he finds in the corner with the exception of his jeans. As much as he hates having to re-wear anything like this, it's a necessary evil since he'll have to go back out in public before he can get anywhere that has a proper change of clothes for him. He might not have to wear the same shirt, though. He looks between Lance and his dresser, considering. Finally, he decides to just go for it. He walks over to the dresser and rummages through it, snatching a pair of boxers and a red short sleeved shirt. It was definitely going to be too big on him but an oversized shirt was way better than oversized pants. He just hopes that Lance doesn't mind too much and if he does, then Tristan will just buy him a new one of each to make up for it.

He gathers up his clothes and scans the room once more. There's three doors in the room. He knows the one almost directly across from him is the main entrance to the bedroom. That left what he assumes is the closet and a bathroom. All he can do is guess, so he walks over to the door closest to him and swings it open, thankfully finding that it's the assumed bathroom. He steps in, closing the door quietly behind him. He quickly relieves himself and then gets dressed, enjoying just how large Lance's shirt is on his shorter frame. He walks over to the sink, looking at himself in the mirror on the wall behind it. His hair is a mess, as expected, and his neck is covered in hickeys. He blushes, bringing a hand up to press his finger to one of them, shivering as he does so. He pulls the collar of the shirt down slightly, noticing a few more littering the top of his chest. He bites his lip and adjusts the shirt to cover as many as possible without looking weird, but there was no way for him to cover all of them. Seems he'll have to borrow more from Lance then he originally planned to.

He sighs softly and washes and dries his hands before reaching into his back pocket to pull out the comb he knows is there and runs it through his hair as best he can. He isn't able to get all the tangles out, he'll need a full-sized brush for that, but he does manage to get it looking decent enough to be seen in public with. After placing the comb back in his pocket, he turns the facet back on and splashes some water over his face a few times, patting his face dry with a washcloth he finds on a towel shelf afterwards. Lastly, he pulls the tube of strawberry lipgloss out of his right pocket, smiling down at it as he does so. It wasn't his usual brand or flavor, but it was a gift from Isolde and he cherished it greatly. While he may not love her as his parents intended, he cared about her deeply. She was his best friend, the sister he never had, even if he's pretty sure she's in love with him. He just hopes that when he breaks things off today, he doesn't hurt her too badly and that they can still be friends afterwards. He isn't sure if he could handle losing her. His smile turns wobbly and he feels a burn in the back of his throat in reaction to the direction his thoughts have gone and he shakes his head rapidly, blinking his eyes a few times.

He quickly returns to the task at hand, applying the lip gloss to his lips and pocketing it once more afterwards. He blows out a long breath before turning away from the mirror and walking back into the Lance's bedroom, staying quiet in case he was still sleeping. As the door closes with a soft click behind him, he sees that the blonde is indeed still asleep. He smiles at him briefly before heading for the door to the hall. Right as he's about to step out of the room, he freezes and then backtracks a few steps. He stands there for a few moments, his eyes on the two pairs of shoes on the ground, one his own and one Lance's. Don't do it. Just leave them. Just go. He tries to demand, but his own brain was working against him. He growls as his body moves without his say so, grabbing both pairs and walking over to the door, placing Lance's shoes on the left side of the door frame, toes pointed towards the wall, and doing the same with his own shoes on the right side. Ignoring the instant relief the action brings, he quickly leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

He walks down the small hallway and enters the living room, enjoying the amount of natural light in the room. And he's only a little surprised to see more plants. The living room has a similar window and bench setup to the one in the bedroom, but this one was bigger in order to match the bigger room. In the two corners of the wall holding the front door to the apartment is two potted trees, both around the same height as Tristan himself. The window sill had eight pots lining it, each one filled with soil but no plants sprouting from any of them yet. In the right top corner of the window, there was a hanging basket of what Tristan recognized to be flowering jasmine, his fifth favorite flower. And finally, two more taller plants, one on each side of the window bench. These were nearly as tall as the trees, but they were both growing big, bright yellow flowers. It was a color that Tristan absolutely adored and he walked over to one of them, reaching out to touch one of the blossoms gently.

"Try to be careful with those ones." A soft voice calls from behind him. He whips around in surprise, eyes landing on the tall blonde standing in the open space between the hallway and the living room. Lance smiles at Tristan as he continues speaking. "They're real delicate flowers, they can rip easily." He informs him.

"Oh." Tristan says simply. He turns back to the flowers and traces a single finger over one in a featherlight touch just once before pulling his hand back. He then turns around and heads to the open kitchen area attached to the living room. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of Lance eyeing him carefully. Tristan suddenly has the feeling that he was just put under some sort of test, though he was confident that he had passed whatever it was. He notices more succulents in the kitchen and gives an amused chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Lance asks curiously as he also steps into the kitchen.

Tristan looks at him with a raised eyebrow. "Plants, huh?"

Lance's expression softens into understanding as he snorts softly and nods. "Uh, yeah. You can blame my mom for that. And my uncle, too, I guess." When Tristan gives him a questioning look, he continues, smiling softly. "Where they grew up was mostly just woods and after moving to the city, they couldn't help but keep as much of the outdoors with them as possible. I grew up surrounded by all kinds of plants and I guess I came to love all of them, too." He admits, his cheeks darkening slightly as he runs a hand through his hair.

"That's actually really cute." Tristan tells him honestly.

"Psh, sure it is." Lance immediately brushes off the compliment and turns away from him, but Tristan sees the red that spreads to the tips of his ears and he smirks at the sight.

Tristan feels the urge to start teasing him, but he decides to resist it for now. "Where are your cups?" He asks instead.

He opens up a cupboard next to the sink that's the same color as the floor of the bedroom and living room. "Right in here." He moves back to allow Tristan to see inside the cupboard. "If you're looking for water, though, I also have bottles of water in the fridge." He informs him.

Tristan smiles. "I'll take one of those, then. Thank you." He takes a step forward to peck Lance on the cheek. As he pulls back, Lance starts to say something before he freezes, his eyes widening slightly.

Before Tristan can ask what caused his reaction, he gets an answer. "I-is-is that-" He chokes out before stopping to clear his throat. "A-are you wearing lip gloss or something?" He asks.

Realization dawns on the silverette. Oh. So he hadn't noticed last night. "Yeah, I am. I usually am." He admits. "Is...that a problem?" He asks uncertainly, trying not to let the sudden jolt of fear that runs through him show on his face.

Tristan can almost see the gears turning in Lance's head as he processes, his face becoming one of understanding and then quickly shifting again as his eyes darken slightly, leaving Tristan very confused, his brows furrowing. Lance then kisses him fiercely, the action filled with desire and leaving Tristan burning all over when he pulls away a few moments later. "Definitely not a problem." Lance assures him quietly.

"So I've noticed." Tristan mumbles back, his cheeks warming over with a light flush.

He then turns around without another word and walks over to the fridge, seeing multiple water bottles lined up along the bottom shelf of the fridge door. He leans down to grab the fifth one in the row, closing the fridge as he opens the bottle. He swallows down about half of it before setting it down on the island in the middle of the kitchen as he hears Lance turn on the kitchen faucet. He reaches into his left pocket and pulls out his little pill capsule, popping it open and dumping the three pills inside into his hand. He pops them into his mouth and swallows them down along with the rest of the water in his water bottle. When he pulls the plastic away from his lips, he freezes, seeing Lance staring at him again. He has a glass of water almost to his lips, hovering there as he looks at Tristan with curiosity. Upon seeing Tristan looking back at him, he nods his head towards the blue pill capsule Tristan still has sitting on the island.

Tristan gives him a smile, but it's more sarcastic than anything else. "Actual meds, not a drug problem, just in case you were questioning that." He jokes half-heartedly, grabbing the pill capsule and closing it before putting it back in his pocket. "Two for Bipolar Disorder and one for OCD." He says quietly. The only way to let someone know you're open to trusting them is by being honest right from the start. That's what Dr. Dreyfus says, anyways.

Lance sets down his water glass and turns to him with a soft, affectionate smile that makes Tristan feel all fluttery inside. The silverette watches as he walks over to the opposite side of the sink and opens up another cupboard, pulling something out and placing it on the counter. It's an orange prescription bottle. "ADHD." Lance tells him.

"Ooh." Tristan says slowly. "Well, that's good to know." Tristan returns his smile.

Lance shrugs. "It's not too big of a deal." He then gestures a hand behind Tristan. "The shoes - back in the bedroom - that you?" He asks.

Tristan gives him a sheepish little grin, rubbing the pads of his fingers over his palms in a nervous habit. "Yeah. Sorry about that. I tried not to." He admits.

"Hey, no, you don't need to apologize for something like that. You lined up some shoes, it's not like you rearranged my entire apartment or something. Just not something I'm used to someone doing after I've spent the night with them, that's the only reason I really even noticed in the first place." He says sincerely before picking up his abandoned water and downing it in a few gulps. Tristan gives him a grateful smile when he's able to catch his eye again.

Tristan spots a trashcan in the corner and tosses his water bottle into it. "Hey, do you, uh, have anything I can use to cover, you know," He gestures to his neck. "All this?" Lance walks over to him as he speaks and he places his hands on the other man's chest, looking up at him. "As much as I'd love to show off your handiwork, the paparazzi are probably already out and prowling the streets and if my parents find out I hooked up with you last night through the internet before I even get the chance to talk to them about my decision, then there's going to be some problems."

Lance wraps his arms around Tristan's waist. "Is that what I am to you? Just a hookup?"

Tristan would've started to worry if not for the teasing glint in the man's red eyes. "Of course not. You're quickly becoming much more important than that." Tristan says shyly, ducking his head and looking at him through his eyelashes.

It's true. He's not stupid. He knows what's going on between them is anything but platonic, and it's way more than just sexual. He wants to know every single thing there is to know about the man in front of him, everything he's willing to tell him. He wants to know more about his childhood and meet more of his strange friends. He wants to know about his favorite places in the city and why he grows peace lilies instead of daffodils. And with how comfortable Lance's arms are around him, he's convinced he wants to be held by them forever.

Lance observes him with soft, tender eyes. "Yeah, I know what you mean." He whispers, and he kisses him again, slow and sweet. It feels like some sort of unspoken promise that neither knows the meaning of yet. Lance pulls away from the kiss only slightly, his lips hovering right above Tristan's. The silver-haired man's eyes stay closed, lingering in the moment just a little longer.

"You can take the black jacket by the door when you head out. It should be big enough on you to keep your neck covered up. I'll toss on a hoodie as well. It's a good thing it's supposed to rain today." Lance says quietly and it takes Tristan a moment to process what he's talking about. When he does, he sighs in relief.

"Thank you so much, seriously."

"You're welcome. Though I'm sure you would've managed just fine without me telling you." He quips, grinning and gesturing to the t-shirt Tristan is currently wearing.

Tristan blushes, remembering exactly where the t-shirt came from. "I can go ahead and give it back if you'd like. Wearing my button up from last night isn't exactly ideal, but I'd do it if you preferred I not take your shirt with me.' He says.

Lance leans forward and nips at his ear, causing a gasp to escape his lips. "Don't you dare. You're not giving that back to me until after I've had the chance to fuck you in it." He whispers. Tristan whimpers softly at the thought. But before the silverette can respond, the place where Lance was is completely empty. "I just gotta get dressed real quick and then I can drive you home. I'll be right back!" He calls from the hallway.

Tristan stands there sputtering for a moment, face completely red, before he recovers enough to yell back at him. "Rude!" All he hears in reply is Lance laughing loudly from his bedroom.

~*~

Four hours later, Tristan is showered, freshly dressed, walking up to Isolde's doorstep. She lives in a quaint, little, brick townhome on the south side of Liones. He walks up to her front steps and slips through the door, closing and locking it behind him. He had asked her if it was okay for him to come over today and she had told him that it was and that she would leave the front door unlocked for him as always. He pushes his hands into the pocket of the large jacket he's borrowing from Lance, fiddling with his car keys.

"In the kitchen!" She calls out to him.

He smiles and walks through the house until he reaches the kitchen. She's bustling around the whole space, the light pink apron she's wearing covered in flour and other powdered baking ingredients. He doesn't see anything wrong with the scene until he notices the smell of the room as well as the batch of already baked cookies out on a cooling rack. A strong scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. A bowl of cinnamon sugar resting off to the side. She's making snickerdoodles. His absolute favorite. His brows furrow and he looks at her, finding her standing completely still and already staring back at him.

"What's wrong?" They both say at the same time.

"Wait, what?" Tristan blinks.

Isolde sighs and grabs a kitchen towel from the counter behind her, using it to wipe off her forehead. "Tristan, you've been acting weird since yesterday. You were so quiet all day, you spent way more time than usual getting ready just to go to The Rogue, of all places, you were so tense the whole time we were there, and then you just ditched with Lance so quickly, I just-" She throws her hands up in a frustrated gesture. She looks his form up and down as if just now actually looking at him. "What's with that big jacket? See, you're acting weird!!" She exclaims exasperatedly.

Oh, Isolde. Always working yourself up. Tristan takes in a long, deep breath, wishing there was a way he could stall this conversation a bit longer, but he knows there's no point in pushing it away. He and Lance agreed that they'd break things off today and he was still planning on talking to his parents after he finished talking with Isolde. "Isolde. I'm ending our arrangement." He breathes out, holding his breath.

"Oh, thank gods." Is the first thing out of Isolde's mouth and the thing he expected to hear the least.

"Excuse me?" He coughs.

Isolde walks over to him, reaching out and grabbing both of his hands in hers. "Tristan, I love you to death, but marrying you would be the equivalent of marrying my brother." She makes a disgusted grimace and he can't help but mimic her expression for a moment.

"Yeah, that's exactly how I feel about you. You're amazing, Isolde, but I really couldn't ever see you that way and I'm really, really glad that you don't see me that way, either." He tells her sincerely.

She smiles softly. "No worries, Trist. You're honestly not even my type anyways."

At Tristan's questioning look, her smile turns shy. "It's not just you. No guy is my type." She admits.

The silverette's eyes widen. "Oh. Oh. Wow. I...never even realized. That's...wow. Of course, I accept you, you know that. Well, at least, I hope you know that, cause if you don't, then that would be a problem that I definitely need to fix because I'm-I'm rambling and I need to shut up." He takes a deep breath.

Isolde giggles, letting go of his hands. "Everything's okay. I know what you mean and I do know that you accept me, I've never thought anything different. I am curious, though." She studies him closely. "After all this time of just going along with it, what's gotten you to finally switch things up?"

Tristan's face blooms into a brilliant fire hydrant red, making Isolde look at him with great interest and curiousity. "Alright, this is gotta be good. Spill it." She demands.

Tristan chews on his bottom lip. "Okay, first of all, I have to apologize. Because I totally lied to you about what I was doing last night." He admits sheepishly.

Her eyes narrow and one of her eyebrows raises, her arms crossing over her chest. "So you didn't go spend the night with Lancelot?" She questions.

"Oh, uh, I, uh, definitely spent the night with Lancelot." He says, clearing his throat as the heat burning across his face spreads to the tips of his ears. Rather than try to explain outloud, he decides it best to rid himself of the jacket. It's getting a little stuffy wearing it since he's inside now, anyways.

He avoids looking at Isolde completely as he unzips it and pulls it off of his shoulders, folding it over his arm. He studies the floor for a long minute or two before finally looking up to see Isolde's reaction. All he's wearing under the jacket is Lance's red t-shirt, which he had slipped back on after his shower, which means that all of the dark bruises on his neck are still on full display. Isolde is looking at him about how he expected her to. Her eyes are wide, staring directly at his neck, her mouth open in surprise. She looks the definition of shock.

"So, you-. But you-. And he-. His apartm-. I-I mean-" Isolde shakes her head rapidly. "J-j-just wait a second, let me get this straight." She stutters out finally. "Lancelot..." She looks at Tristan again now. "And you. You guys-" She cuts herself off, gesturing to the man's neck.

Tristan chuckles nervously. "Y-yeah, we did. Lance and I. We slept together. Last night. At his apartment." He confirms.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got that part now." Isolde starts pacing back and forth in front of him. "I mean-" She stops and gives him a skeptical look. "Lancelot?? Really?? Isn't he supposed to be getting engaged to Guinevere??" She questions.

Tristan's eyes harden slightly at the mention of Guinevere. "Yes, he is, but he doesn't have any feelings for her. Like, literally. They're not even friends, based on what he's said." He informs her.

The pinkette in front of him looks at the counter she's standing next to, lost in her head. "Huh. Weird. The way Guin talks about him, you'd think the two were all in."

Tristan scoffs and crosses his arms. "Not even close. It's all one-sided. She just likes to think that she has some claim over him when in reality, he wants nothing to do with her, which is exactly as it should be." He says, irritation seeping into his tone. He couldn't help it. He doesn't like Guinevere at all, never has. There's just always been something about her that makes him feel uneasy, though he's not quite sure what. Not only that, but she was always clinging to Lance whatever chance she got and Lance was clearly uncomfortable each time she did it, yet she either didn't care or wasn't paying enough attention to him to even notice.

"...Tristan, was that a hint of jealousy I heard just now?"

Tristan's eyes shoot open. "What? No! Why would I ever be jealous of Guinevere?" He immediately denies her claims.

Suddenly, Tristan's vision is filled with nothing but Isolde's face, the woman grabbing his shoulders lightly and leaning down so that her face was level with his. "Trist, what aren't you telling me?" She asks him gently.

Tristan immediately deflates and groans as he steps over to one of the kitchen island stools and plops down onto it. "Lance and I have been flirting with each other for the last 8 months, pretty much ever since we first met. For awhile, it was just attraction, but eventually it started to change. Or maybe it had been like that the whole time and I'd just never noticed. But suddenly it wasn't just that I wanted to sleep with Lancelot, I...wanted something more than that, I thought. And that thought solidified more as time passed and then we'd settled on a date for the wedding and I just couldn't take it anymore." He runs his hands over his face. "So, last night, we talked before we went back to his place. I told him how I feel and he feels the same. We made an agreement that I would end my arrangement with you while he ends things with Guinevere, and then him and I are gonna get to know each other, see where this whole thing goes." His voice is quieter as he finishes talking, a small, warm smile spread over his face as he looks down at where his hands are resting on the island counter.

"Tristan Nathan Liones, is that the look of love I see on your face?" Isolde gasps playfully.

Tristan turns to her, sputtering. "What- I- No!" He looks down as he nibbles his bottom lip. "Not yet, anyway..."

Isolde squeals and pulls Tristan into a tight hug that Tristan gladly returns. "Oh, Trist, I'm so happy for you!! This is amazing!!"

Tristan laughs. "Thank you, Isolde, I know it is." They pull back from the hug, Isolde holding him at arms length. "I think he's really great so far." He pauses for a moment. "...this morning, he told me that I'm becoming important to him." He whispers, gaining another squeal from Isolde in reply.

He laughs some more as she coos at how cute that is while walking over to the fridge and pulling some things out, starting to get back to her baking. He sits and watches her mix and knead and bake for a couple more hours, the two of them talking the whole time. Tristan is so glad that things have worked out between them like they have.

~*~

"Hey, Thetis, is my mom busy right now?"

"I wouldn't know, Tristan, she's not here. She's working with your father today." His mother's assistant tells him formally.

"Oh, okay. Well, thank you for letting me know." He thanks her.

"You're welcome." She says before hanging up. He sighs. Same old Thetis.

He switches lanes, then, heading for city hall instead of his parents' house. The difference in drive time isn't much, thankfully. He pulls into the outer parking lot that the public used. It wasn't very crowded at the moment and he's hoping as much as possible that he won't be here for very long. He locks his car behind when he gets out before stopping a moment and making sure his jacket is adjusted correctly. He doesn't even want to imagine what would happen if his parents saw any of those damn hickies.

He enters the building, relieved that it doesn't seem to be too terribly warm inside. He waves at a few people as he walks through the halls. He's a familiar face and he knows all the passcodes to the staff only rooms and elevators, so it's not too much trouble getting to his dad's office. He spots Rose at her desk, as usual. She's his father's secretary. From what Tristan's heard, his dad didn't actually want one at first, but everyone else convinced him to, eventually. Rose has been around for nearly ten years now, ever since he was a preteen, and she's about that much older than him by now.

"Hey, Rose!" He greets warmly.

"Mr. Liones! It's been awhile since you've been around here, how have you been?" She asks just as warmly.

He sighs inwardly. For the longest time, he tried to get her to just call him Tristan, but he gave up on that ages ago. "I've been good. Really good. And you?"

"Oh, I've been wonderful, thank you. Oh, and your parents are right through in the office." She informs him.

Tristan is about to open his mouth to thank her when he suddenly realizes what his mom and dad together in a close space with a lockable door might mean. His face scrunches up into a look of disgust that Rose seems to notice immediately. "Don't worry, Mr. Antin is in there with him. I believe they're discussing this year's Pride parade." She says with a laugh, knowing exactly why he'd pulled that face.

He visibly relaxes. "Okay, good. Thank you so much." He tells her as he walks forward, seeing her nod as he pushes the office door open and walks through.

"...I don't know, I just don't think we should do all that without getting a confirmation back from 'em first." He hears his Uncle Ban say.

"It's really no problem. They'll come through for us, just like they do every year." His mom.

"See? It'll be perfectly fine, Ban." His dad.

As he enters the room, he observes them. Uncle Ban is leaning his back against the right wall of the office with his arms crossed over his chest while his parents are standing in front of his dad's desk. His dad is looking at the papers scattered all over his desk, his hand under his chin and a thoughtful look on his face and his mom is standing right behind him, peeking over his shoulder.

Uncle Ban mutters something along the lines of, "Why do I even bother?" before the door finally closes behind him with a heavy thud, drawing the attention of all three people right to him.

"Oh, Tristan!" His mom comes rushing towards him with open arms and he returns her hug without hesitation.

"Hey, ma." He greets her.

As they pull away, a warm hand is placed on his shoulder. "Hey there, Trist." His father says with a grin.

"Hey, pa." He replies, returning his grin. Then he turns to the other man in the room and greets him as well. "Hey, Uncle Ban!"

"Yo, kid, how ya been? It's been awhile." He points out.

"That's true, actually. The last time you came to my office was nearly a year ago." His dad says, walking back over to his desk.

Tristan walks towards the desk as well. "I've been really good. And I wanted to talk to you guys about something, actually." He tells them, looking pointedly between both of his parents.

Both of them look at him with furrowed brows. "Oh, okay. Would you like Ban to step out for a few minutes?" His mom asks him gently.

"Oh, um, no, he's fine to stay in here. I don't really plan on taking very long, there's just something I want to tell you both in person." He explains, his nerves flaring up now that he's actually at this point. He just can't say anything about Lance. Not like he had been planning to, anyways.

His dad sits down in his chair and his mother leans against the front corner of the desk. Even Uncle Ban comes over and stands next to Tristan's dad, a grin on his face and a mischievous glint in his curious eyes. The eyes of all three adults are now on him and he holds back a nervous squeak. "So, what is it?" His dad prompts.

"Is everything okay?" His mother questions, her eyes worried.

Tristan isn't sure if he's even breathing or not anymore. He quickly forces the words out, afraid that if he takes too long to say it, then he'll end up bolting out of the room before he gets the chance to. "I'mnotmarryingIsolde." He forces out.

"Um, what?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're gonna have to repeat that, sweetie."

Tristan mentally slaps himself and huffs slightly, his cheeks puffing up as he lets out a deep breath. He shakes his head at himself and straightens his shoulders. "I'm n-not marrying Isolde." He wanted the sentence to come out sure and confident, but in reality it came out small and quiet, barely above a whisper. He looked at his mom, not wanting to see the look of disappointment his dad was undoubtedly sending in his direction.

"What?" The silver-haired woman questioned. "Why? Did something happen between you two?" She questions, her concern growing.

"Oh, no, nothing like that at all!" He reassures. "Isolde and I are perfectly fine, great even. Nothing's happened between us." He finally looks to the two older men behind the desk. His dad's face is completely blank and his Uncle's face is skeptical. He looks down for a moment, thinking of Lance. A blush comes to his face and he can't help but smile as he remembers his morning with the man just earlier. The two of them had left Lance's apartment and stopped for a quick breakfast together, Tristan learning that the blonde prefers his coffee with plain creamer but no sugar, and that he favors biscuits over croissants.

He gets lost in his thoughts for a moment and is suddenly brought back to reality when his mother speaks up again. "Oh. I see." Tristan's head shoots his head up as his mother steps closer to him, reaching her hands up to tuck his hair behind his ears before cradling his face gently.

"Ma...?" He asks uncertainly at the same time that his dad says, "Elizabeth...?"

His mom has a warm, knowing smile on her face. "Tristan isn't going to marry Isolde because there's someone else he has feelings for instead."

Tristan's blush deepens slightly upon realizing how quickly she was able to figure him out, but he returns her smile, nodding in confirmation. "Yes. Things aren't very far along, yet, but I think I'm going to fall in love with him, ma." He admits softly.

"I think you already are." She tells him and his stomach flutters. Is that true? He wonders. Have I really started falling so quickly? The knowing in his mom's eyes only grows as she watches the emotions swirling in his eyes and she kisses his forehead before stepping away from him.

He finally looks to his dad, his nerves returning. His father is still looking at him with that same blank look as before, but suddenly, he grins widely and lets out a small chuckle. "Okay, Tristan. As long as this guy is treating you right and makes you happy, then I'm perfectly okay with your decision!" He tells him brightly.

Tristan stands there blinking at him. What? He waits for the blonde man's expression to change, for it to be some sort of joke, but his dad's grin was completely unwavering. Tears spring in Tristan's eyes and before he even realizes what he's doing, he's behind the desk and throwing himself forward, hugging his dad tightly. The man doesn't return the embrace right away, instead staying completely still at first, before slowly wrapping his arms around his son.

"He's treated me wonderfully so far and he makes me feel like I could do anything." He admits quietly.

"Good." His dad says. He reaches up and pats the top of Tristan's head a few times. "Good."

"Man, first Lance and now Tristan. What even is today, huh?" Tristan perks up at hearing Lance's name as he pulls away from his dad.

"What about Lancelot?" His dad asks the other man.

"The kid called Elaine and I up this mornin', says he isn't gonna marry Guinevere. Wouldn't tell us why, though." His Uncle Ban tells them. Tristan bites back a victorious smirk at the news. "But it's whatever. As long as he knows what he's doing. Anyways, do we get to know anything about this guy of yours, Tristan?" He asks with a grin.

Tristan shakes his head, nibbling at his bottom lip. "No, not yet. There's still a lot that him and I need to figure out first." The silverette tells his uncle honestly.

The tall man's shoulders slouch. "Aw. That's no fun."

"Don't worry, Ban, I'm sure Tristan will share more once he's ready to." His mom reassures. Tristan nods and turns to smile at his mom gratefully.

Soon after that, Tristan is leaving his dad's office and heading back out of the city hall. He feels so much better than he did 24 hours ago and he can't wait to see where this new path takes him. Right as he steps through the front entrance and out into the light drizzle that's falling from the clouds overhead, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and sees a text from Lance. He beams and unlocks his phone, pulling the message up to read through it.

'Just finished talking to Guinevere and already talked to my parents this morning. No other strings to cut. I believe this means I'm all yours, your majesty 😉'

Tristan bites his lip, giggling softly. He walks over to his car slowly as he types out a reply.

'I believe it does, Sir Lancelot. But only if I can be all yours, as well 😘'

Tristan falls into the driver's seat of his car, feeling giddy and warm all over. He has a feeling that this will be one of the best decisions he's ever made.

~*~

A/N: What did you guys think?? Please let me know!!! There’s gonna be lots of more characters in the next chapter, most of them being introduced in this AU for the first time!!! A few more ships as well!!! ALSO!!! In the series masterlist, I’ve added the names of all upcoming chapters, so if you’d like to take a peek at those to try and see what kind of hints you can find, you can now do so!!

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@ivyllamauwu

[Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series and any other stories relating to it!!!]

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