Regret (Ianthony)

Four Months, One Week Prior

Flattened palm pressing against the red button at the speed of light, Ian gave Anthony a toothy grin, face illuminated by the glow of the arcade game.

"Beat you again, son," he bragged, words flashing across the screen of the Galaga game that informed Anthony that, yes, Ian had already reached Stage Five when he could only get as far as Stage Four. Ian took the opportunity to rest his hands, which he rubbed against the denim of his shorts to get rid of his perspiration. The last thing he would need would be slippery fingers.

"Like you're gonna last very long in this stage," Anthony retorted, watching as Ian put his game face on and his expression contorted to one of utter concentration. The theme song played for the fifth time, and soon, the opposing forces began appearing on the screen. Eyebrows knitted together, Anthony witnessed Ian's right hand begin thrumming against the red button once again, left hand left to twiddle the joystick controlling his spaceship avatar at the very bottom of the screen. Ian had already lost all of his spare lives and was running on pure skill.

Anthony allowed himself to go into momentary shock as Ian knocked out most of the enemy ships within the first thirty seconds of the game. He crossed his arms. Ian was really a pro at this game... The sound effects of shots being fired pulled him out of his reverie and when he blinked, he saw that Ian's last ship was being abducted by a purple enemy.

"Fuck!" Ian yelled, right hand slamming against the button one last time, as if in a belated attempt to prevent his defeat. Then, he flew away from the game, clenching his fists and trying his hardest not to let the frustration control him. Anthony could honestly testify that Ian was essentially the Hulk when he got annoyed; well, apart from being green. The anger was apparent, though.

Shrugging, Anthony said, "Told you so." He had a right to be smug for being right, right?

"Whatever, man." Ian was already more composed, hand sweeping through his bowl haircut. His mood changes always amazed Anthony; angry one second, calm the next. He didn't know if Ian just had that much control in him or if he was just extremely unpredictable, the latter being the more obvious choice.

Ian's hand began digging in his pocket, and he retrieved two quarters. "Ski-Ball?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"No shit, Sherlock," Anthony replied, pulling out his own change. The two skipped towards the back of the arcade, intent on a clean competition. Even if Anthony always won when they played Ski-Ball.

Picking the two machines that were the farthest to the right (because they were the only two available side by side), Ian and Anthony stood beside each other and bent down to put their money into the machines. As soon as the change was accepted, the games released ten baseball-sized balls into a compartment that was accessible to each of the men. In turn, the two took turns watching the other roll a sphere up the ramp and into one of the holes at the end, Anthony scoring mostly fifties and occasionally hundreds while Ian managed to scrape by with tens and twenties.

Down to his last ball, Ian mentioned, "I'm glad you told your parents. They're a lot more... Lenient. More than mine, anyways." Anthony remembered the day in the rain as vividly as ever. He could only guess how badly Ian's mom must have taken it to make him that depressed.

Anthony stared at Ian as he carefully picked up the last ball and held it tightly in his hand, knuckles nearly white around it. Then, his hands relaxed as he swung his arm forwards and let the ball go. It rolled faster than a rocket and flew up the arc at the end of the ramp, cascading into the left hundred slot. Anthony looked at Ian's face, which was a mask of bewilderment.

"Did I really just do what I think I did?" he whispered, voice barely audible over the sound of the other arcade games making sound effects, people's laughter, and people's frustrated gasps. Ian's lips parted, and joy rang over his features.

"Hell yes!" Ian exclaimed, fist-pumping into the air and letting out a laugh of excitement.

Putting an arm around his boyfriend, Anthony smirked. "Good job, but I still totalled you."

"With my new-found powers, I challenge you," Ian pointed at Anthony's chest, "to a rematch."

"Fine by me," Anthony replied, then he continued their earlier conversation. "Oh, and I'm glad I told my parents too. They're still kinda in shock, but... I think they'll get over it. Maybe they'll help pay for the wedding, eventually." Anthony didn't realize that he had been babbling until Ian froze from his current position of loading more quarters into the coin slot and stood to face Anthony.

"...wedding?" Ian wondered, looking as though it hadn't crossed his mind before that people who loved each other usually made vows and wore rings and all that garbage. All that meaningful garbage. He seemed confused, but not like he didn't understand.

"Yeah. I thought that maybe, someday..." Anthony trailed off, realizing that Ian wasn't following. He looked more lost in thought then ever, and Anthony gave up completely. "Look, we'll talk about it later. Let's just enjoy our date right now."

The thought still clung to Anthony as he dug in his pockets for more change.