Chapter Text
"Anthony," Ian looked up, his cornflower-blue eyes locking with Anthony's dark ones. He bit his lip nervously, every fibre of his body shivering and shaking with fear and anticipation.
Anthony smiled back down at him, a comforting look grazing through his irises. Ian marvelled at how his once silly nerd of a friend had grown so wise, when he himself was still virtually the same as that sixteen year old *boy* he'd been in their first youtube video. How could he be so kind, so supportive, before Ian had even told him what was on his mind?!
"I-I" He stuttered, closing his eyes and severing that soul-deep connection with Anthony for just as long as his blink lasted. Upon reopening them, he could see the macabre mosaic of the day's purple sunset reflected in them again, "I- I- I don't feel like..." Ian shut his mouth. It had been four years. Four years since the pandemic had started and he'd first been locked inside. Four years since he'd first let himself truly unpack *those* thoughts that had lurked and loomed in the gloomy depths of his mind since before he had ever even met Anthony. It had been four years; he could wait another few. He could wait forever in fact. Any length of time was better than the complex feelings coursing through him like acid in that very moment.
"Hey, it's okay, you can take your time." And there was Anthony being so god-damn *reasonable*; it made him feel sick. Why was he being so nice - why did Ian deserve this?!
Anthony placed a hand on his shoulder and Ian flinched. Almost as soon as it was placed down, Anthony was moving it back to his side awkwardly, apologising quickly with all the good intentions that shone so brightly through his eyes. So god-damn *understanding*.
Ian wanted to tell him sorry. He wanted to scream and shout and apologise for being such an idiot, all in the same breath, but somehow he couldn't. It was like he was a stupid kid again and his airways were all squeezed up from his stupid asthma, except now all of these stupid thoughts were stupidly circling around his stupid head. He couldn't keep them in any longer or he would burst or something. Death was on the table too; perhaps that was an easier option.
"Anthony'" He watched as Anthony's dark lashes fluttered, not an ounce of judgement in his face. He wondered if that was about to change, if Anthony's eyes would cloud and fog and he'd turn away. He knew it was ridiculous, and yet he couldn't let go. Here goes nothing. Another deep breath. In and out. "I'm a girl."
He was freaking out. At some point, he'd closed his eyes, squeezed them so tight that he'd missed Anthony's reaction. What if he'd been disgusted and was hiding it now? What if he was angry or scared or-
"Thank you for telling me." Anthony's tone was soft like butter, yet rich as chocolate. Ian couldn't open his eyes, they were sealed shut, tears glueing his lids together. He could feel Anthony standing there, his breath even and calming, a distinct juxtaposition to his own thumping heart. He didn't move, the room remaining silent as he waited for Ian to take charge. God-damn Anthony being so *considerate*. His ears were still ringing.
"I- I... you're the first one I've told." His mouth was dry, hairs all standing up on end like someone was walking over his grave. It was freezing cold, eerie. Anthony was fine; Anthony understood. But those feelings still wouldn't stop.
"Do you have a different name you'd like me to use?" And there he goes again. How did he know all of the right things to say in every damn situation - how did he always manage to be so goddamn perfect?!
"I don't know," he hiccupped, "I haven't thought..." It was a lie of course, but he hoped Anthony wouldn't realise that. He'd spent months brainstorming and jotting down names in his notes app and on the back of old scripts, seeing the way they flowed in his handwriting and the way they felt to type.
His chest was heaving.
That's when Anthony touched him again. Ian didn't jump away this time, instead he leant into the touch, losing himself in how gentle his friend's hands were as they rubbed across his shoulders.
"I still love you, just so you know. Something like this would never change that."
*Something like this*.
And then he opened his eyes again and there were Anthony's beautiful eyes, just, watching him. They were quiet, wistful, and to anyone else they would appear as nothing out of the ordinary. To Ian they were like windows to heaven. "I love you too." Anthony's eyes glinted for a moment, before Ian saw tears forming in the corners, "It's me who should be crying, silly." He tried to chastise, but the dryness in his voice didn't allow such a tone.
Anthony smiled briefly, just the corners of his mouth pulling up slightly, before he brought his pointer finger to Ian's cheek. When he removed it, there was a tear there too. When did that get there?!
Ian snorted, the brash sound escaping his throat before he could control it, and Anthony's mouth spread into a grin, teeth and all. His eyes shone, light refracting from their dark surface. He flung his arms around the taller of the two, foisting his head against Anthony's harder-than-he-remembered chest.
They stayed like that for a while longer. Just the two of them in blissful silence. Every so often Ian would hiccup, and Anthony would hold him just a tad tighter.
Maybe this is what friendship really felt like. Here's to 2024, and all that's to come.