A/N OKAY SO IS SO FUCKED UP AND IT WON'T LET ME EDIT THE LAST CHAPTER WITHOUT MESSING UP THE LAYOUT. SO PLEASE IGNORE ANY TYPOS OR GRAMMAR ERRORS THAT MAY BE THERE. I KNOW THEY'RE THERE. THANK YOU. :) UNLESS YOU'RE , THEN FUCK YOU. xD jk, I just don't appreciate not being able to update fics.
If you would like to read this, OR ANY of my tics somewhere it won't be fucked up, look up Dankee on Wattpad/AO3 under the same name.
"You still coming over tonight?" Ian asks as Anthony grabs his bag from his locker. It was the end of the day and Ian had found is best friend at his locker. The seventeen year old was so excited, he had to resist the urge to bounce of the balls of his feet.
"Yeah, but I gotta pack my stuff. Wanna come by my house first so I can grab my stuff and you can pick out a video game or something?" Anthony suggests, slinging his bag onto his shoulders and locker.
Ian bites his lips so his smile can't grow too large. "Sure, I have to walk home today anyways."
Anthony smirks at Ian as they walk out the school building. "Anything to bum a ride, right?"
Ian feels goose bumps scatter over his arms, as it was getting closer and closer to December. If anyone asked, that's what he would blame it on but it was partially because of the way Anthony looked at him, the way he smirked at him, the way he acted around him. Jesus Christ, it was killing him.
"You cold?" Anthony asks, looking Ian up and down, eyes landing on the short sleeve shirt he was wearing. Ian shrugs.
"Meh, a little." Ian brushes off. "It's such bullshit when people say California is always hot and sunny." He comments on the dark atmosphere. The sun was hidden behind some rain clouds and the sky was full of swirling grey. Wind curled around his bare arms, prickling Ian's skin.
Anthony laughs. "That's true."
They walk up to Anthony's car, which was half broken down, silver with scratches 2004 Honda Civic his parents bought for five grand on some website. It's was a literal safety hazard. Ian liked to call it the death mobile until Anthony would slap him up side the head. "And I got a sweater in the back, uh, if you need one."
Butterflies burst for their cocoon and flutter around in Ian's tummy as he prays his face isn't to red. "Uh, okay."
When Anthony unlocks his car, it makes an obscene sound and clicking noise, which is when Ian grabs the handle and pulls the door open (he makes sure not to grab too hard, in fear that the passenger door may fly off). He plops down into the fabric seats and ignores the weird (coffee) stain on the passenger seat. Ian had to do a lot of apologizing for that one.
Anthony slides into the driver's seat and closes the door, turning around to grab the black sweater balled up in the back seats. He throws it in Ian's direction and starts the car. When the dash lights up, music blasts out on full volume. Ian jumps a bit and Anthony lets out a yelp, leaping forward to spin the volume dial down to zero. The seventeen year old gives an apologetic grin.
Ian just shrugs again, picking the black fabric up from his lap. "I liked that song, so it was like a mini concert." Ian says, laced with playful snark. He doesn't make eye contact, only lifting up the shirt with his fingers and gazing over the gold and white brass knuckles pattern, but he hears Anthony crack up in the other seat.
"Dude, I'm gonna crash, don't do that to me." Anthony gets the last of his chuckles out as he pulls out of the school parking lot. Ian smirks as he undoes his seat belt to put on the sweater, catching a whiff of the lingering cologne on the clothing. Once it's on, he redoes his seat belt and snuggles into the seat.
He feels a tidal wave of fatigue come over now he was off his seat and relaxing to the hush sound of rain starting to fall. He struggled to keep his eye lids open, not wanting to doze off in Anthony's car. He would just try to go to bed earlier tonight or drink a little bit more coffee, which means no sleep, so no nightmares. He's been living on that stuff lately.
"Man, I'm exhausted." Ian sighs, wiping his eyes. Anthony's sight leaves the road and flicks over the tired boy. After a second or two of gazing, he turns his attention back to the road.
"Is it the dreams again?" Anthony sounds concerned. Ian nods even though the seventeen year old is not longer looking at him, but Anthony already knew the answer before he asked.
"What is it this time?"
"Last week was a fire-breathing dragon that looked like my father, which is odd because I haven't had that since I was a kid." He exhales, stretching out his sore limbs. He squints as he feels a satisfying stretch in his back. He's so used to communicating his dreams and his memories to Vivian, and since he was so close to Anthony, he didn't mind telling his best friend about the worst of the worst. "The past two nights have been about you."
"Me?" Anthony asks, surprised by the information. Ian didn't usually tell Anthony the extremities of his nightmares but the previous night wasn't that bad.
Ian speaks of this as if it doesn't leave him screaming and crying in the middle of the night. "Yeah, I think I was chained to a stone wall with shackles and you were being tortured."
Anthony takes a minute to answer, a minute Ian spends opening up his sidekick and praying the almighty God that he didn't freak the driver out. Ian's in the middle of sending a text his his friend Joshua and a nervous sweat when Anthony pulls into the driveway of his house. The seventeen year old sits in his seat for a moment before turning off the engine and looking at Ian. Ian lifts an eyebrow.
"That's intense, I'm sorry you have to deal with that, like, all the time." Anthony says, looking at Ian sadly. Ian feels his heart practically explode in his chest.
"S-s'okay." Ian gives a smile. Anthony smiles back and directs himself out of the car. Ian follows.
Anthony walks up the stoney pathway, hoping onto the porch, to the entrance. Ian scurries to catch up to his friend and waits patiently behind Anthony until he uses a key to open the door.
They both walk in silently. When inside, Ian is faced with the familiar scenery of furniture and decorations and the well known smell of Anthony's mother cooking dinner.
Anthony toes off his Vans and slides on his socks through the hardwood hallways. Ian loses sight of him when he slips past the corner and into where Ian knew was the kitchen. He hears a bang while taking off his shoes and a scream of: "Anthony Daniel, don't do that! You're going to hurt yourself!"
Once his shoes are off, he crept through the same hallway and turned the corner into the kitchen. He was met with Anthony on the floor, laughing hysterically as Mrs. Padilla scolded her son while tending to the salad she was tossing. Ian and her lock eyes and her face breaks in half with a huge smile.
Mrs. Padilla was an older, half Filipino lady, always dressed in scrubs. Half of her day, she worked at the nearest hospital as a nurse and the other half she loved on call. Her greying hair was usually up in a loose bun whenever Ian would see her. She was always smiling as well, a grin so genuine that wrinkles formed around her eyes and cheeks. She is the kindest woman Ian has ever had the pleasure of meeting.
"Ian! How are you, dear?" She asks, cheer in her voice. "I haven't seen you in forever!"
Anthony grabs the side of the dinner table to support his weight and help himself up. He gives his mom a weird look. "He was here, like, a week and a half ago." She silences her son with a wave of her hand. He gives an eye roll, but there's a smile on his lips.
"Yeah, it's been practically forever, I gotta come around more often." Ian answers, drinking in the comfortable atmosphere. He places himself down in a chair and smiles up at his best friend, who was raiding the pantry and pulling out a cookie. He stuffs it in a his mouth and his mother's gaze is hard on him. But she pulls her attention away from her son and look sympathetically at the other seventeen year old.
"So, you guys staying for dinner?" She asks the both of them. "I'm making meatloaf!"
Anthony makes a face as he chews his cookie, thankfully out of his mother's view. He puts on a tolerable expression and explains to his mother, "Tempting, but I'm heading out of Ian's house. We're just picking up some games and my clothes and stuff."
Ian smiles and jumps up to Anthony's side when he walks by. "Yeah, thanks for the offer though."
"It's no problem, boys. Anthony's father is having some friends over anyways so it's gonna be rowdy. I've never seen people play poker the way these middle age men play it." She laughs loudly after her last word, and the brunet smiles politely. Anthony just wrinkles his nose and grabs Ian's arm, pulling him towards the stairs.
"Yeah, mom, that'll keep you entertained. We're gonna get packed." He bids her as he stomps up the stairs with Ian in tow. Ian just waves to Mrs. Padilla as a goodbye and she snickers into her hand.
When Ian turns away from Anthony's mother, he pulls his arm hard, causing it to slide smoothly into Anthony's. He lets the butterflies take over his body, causing him to buzz with excitement; tingle as his limbs fell numb.
When Anthony realizes they're holding hands, he looks down at the clasp with amusement and tugs him harder, running to the top of the stairs.