Regret (Ianthony)

Three Months, Four Weeks Prior

Eyes focused on the screen before him, Ian fired his virtual weapon at the approaching enemies. X-Box controller in hand, Ian held down the right trigger to spray down the opposing forces in a shower of bullets, biting his lip as he did so. He leaned forwards as a couple of snipers made themselves visible, which caused his new gaming chair to tilt forwards and almost throw him out of his seat. He laned back again, which was distracting enough to force him to pause the game.

"Fucking chair..." he muttered to himself as he adjusted himself in the seat and continued his assault on the generic foreign enemies. Anthony walked past him at some point and headed into the kitchen, where the phone began ringing soon after. He heard Anthony's voice speaking into the phone, but ignored it in favor of beating Campaign Mode on his RPG game. It was after a few moments of continuous play that he heard a crash from the kitchen, and he quickly paused the game again.

"Anthony?" he called, wondering if he had dropped a glass or bumped a heavy object off the counter. When he heard no response, he groaned and dropped the controller, leaving the television to display the pause screen.

He trudged to the kitchen, and immediately noticed Anthony's figure sitting on the ground beside the house phone, which was broken from the impact of falling from a small height. Anthony appeared much paler than he should have been, and his expression almost made him look sick. His eyes were wide with fear, and he stared at the fallen phone, blinking occasionally.

"Uh... Anthony?" Ian asked, crouching down next to his boyfriend. Anthony turned to Ian, face still sickly.

Pointing to the phone, he pointed out, "I broke the phone." Then, he sighed. He pulled his knees up to his upper body and buried his face in them.

Putting a hand comfortingly on Anthony's shoulder, Ian determined, "We can always get a new one." Then, frowning as Anthony remained stoic, he questioned, "Who called?"

"My dad," he replied, voice muffled since his lips were in contact with his legs.

"What did he say?" Ian ventured, afraid he wouldn't like the answer. He had been torn up when his mom had gotten angry at him for admitting his sexuality had changed, and there was no doubt in his mind that Anthony's dad had decided to not support the two, even though Anthony's parents had been hesitantly getting used to the idea.

"Nothing bad... He wants you over for dinner next week," Anthony admitted, and Ian immediately cringed. He would have to make a whole new impression on Anthony's parents; they had had him over many times since the two had become best friends, but this would be different. They would now consider him with eyes reserved for criticism, and that frightened him out of his wits.

Anthony's head peaked over his knees. "I know it'll be fine but..." Ian pulled him closer.

"Yeah, I know," he finished.