Regret (Ianthony)

Three Months, Three Weeks Prior

Anthony looked over at the passenger seat and sighed. Ian sat there, gripping his dress pants like they were his lifeline, and fidgeting like a kid diagnosed with ADHD. Well, Ian actually was diagnosed with ADHD as a child, but that wasn't the point. He was a nervous wreck, and, to be quite frank, Anthony wasn't doing all that better himself. His eyes had dark circles under them from a sleepless night of tossing and turning, even with Ian cuddling with him throughout the duration (they had begun to sleep in Anthony's bed together). He had tried to avoid looking at himself in the mirror in the morning because he knew that he would find a train wreck of a person, but Ian had pointed out his exhaustion in that blunt way that was unique to his persona, and it took all of Anthony's tired willpower not to strangle Ian on the spot. Yes, he knew he looked like shit, but there was still no good reason for pointing it out...

Groaning as Ian adjusted himself in his seat for the fifteenth time, Anthony yelled, "Ian, calm the fuck down! You're driving me insane!" Ian immediately stopped, and looked at Anthony with regretful eyes.

"Sorry, dude..." he responded quietly. He was refraining from all movement now, and Anthony knew it must have been killing him to do so.

"It's fine... Look, we're both messed up about this, but we gotta try to do this the right way. And I'm sorry for yelling at you," Anthony apologized, letting out a huge yawn after checking the car's clock. They were roughly five minutes away (Anthony's parents only lived about twenty minutes away from their house), which meant they would be right on time. Well, even if they made complete fools out of themselves, at least they could be considered punctual.

Silence ensued for a couple of minutes, and just as they were turning into the neighborhood where Anthony's parents lived, Ian absentmindedly began tapping his foot on the floorboard.

"STOP!!!" Anthony shrieked, then irritably hit the brakes in the middle of the street, turning in his seat to face Ian, who had immediately stopped tapping at once. "Dude, let's just get through this. Sorry again." Then, he continued his drive down the street. Ian flipped down the car mirror to see if his appearance was up to expectations while Anthony pulled into the driveway.. Then, mimicking Ian, Anthony flipped down his mirror to look at himself against his will. Yes, he did appear tired, but he could always use the excuse that he had been up late at night editing videos (not that that wasn't actually a valid reason for exhaustion; last night, he had been up until midnight editing the latest Smosh video, but that had still left him with ample time for rest). The bags under his eyes shouldn't have seemed suspicious to his parents; after all, it wasn't easy being one of the two leaders of the most subscribed to channel on YouTube.

Refusing to look at his sleepy face any longer, Anthony opened the car door and stepped out. nearly slamming it behind him. Then, he felt guilt take over him. He had yelled at Ian twice in the past five minutes... He walked around to the other side of the car and opened Ian's door for him and helped him out.

"Thanks," Ian said appreciatively before letting go of Anthony's hand. They had work to do. The two began making their way to the small house.

Of course, when Anthony knocked on the door, his mother greeted them. "Hello, Anthony," she cheered. Then, looking to Ian, her smile subtly faded a little. "Hello, Ian." Ian held out his hand for her to shake, and she took it and shook it softly, as if she was afraid he would break if she was too rough. He offered her his own insecure smile, then she invited the two in with her hands.

"Mr. Padilla is already at the table; please, go ahead and sit down and make yourselves at home. I'll bring the food out to the table," Anthony's mom directed, speaking mostly to Ian. Ian knew she was a nice person, but Anthony could tell that it was getting on Ian's nerves that she was acting like he hadn't been over a million times beforehand. His clenched fists betrayed his calm exterior.