The Sand and the Sea 3/5
Title: The Sand and the Sea
Author:lavenderpisha09
Pairings: Ian/Anthony
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst, AU, Smut
Summary: It’s funny, how two people can affect each other in so many ways in so little time.
Author's Notes: For teamfreefuckery, who requested an AU where Anthony was raised in the Philippines and meets Ian when Ian goes to the Philippines for a vacation. I hope you enjoy this fic from your resident Filipino nerds. This fic is very AU, so beware. Teamfreefuckery, I hope you like this fic as well, and I hope I managed to write what you were expecting. I probably didn’t write it very well, but I think I did my best.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Smosh. I don’t make money from this.
Part two here.
Day five goes like this: Ian writing a little bit in the morning, a cup of freshly-brewed coffee beside him and the smell of the sea in the air as his fingers move on the keyboard. He gets one chapter done before lunch, and he grins, because he has gotten much more done during that morning compared to a full week back in Los Angeles, when he first got the idea to publish a book and had been trying to write at least one chapter.
In the afternoon, he and Anthony-well, mostly he-learn a folk dance called “Tinikling” from Diana. Two other men hold two long bamboo poles and tap them against the ground following a certain beat, and Ian and Anthony laugh breathlessly as they both try not to get their feet caught between the two bamboo poles once the two men have to tap the bamboo poles against each other. After a few minutes, Ian inevitably gets his ankle trapped between the two poles and he starts to fall to the sand, laughing loudly as he does so, his hand catching Anthony’s tank top because if he’s going down, then he’s certainly going to bring Anthony down with him.
It takes time for Ian and Anthony’s laughter to die down.
After dinner, Ian goes to the sandy shore, his feet bare against the sand. The wind feels good against his skin and the view is exquisite. He’s unsurprised to find Anthony in their usual spot, and he smiles, walking towards him and sitting beside their coconut tree. They spend the next hour talking about anything and everything, with Ian mostly doing the talking and Anthony being content to listen. Ian talks about Los Angeles and Mari and Sohinki and Youtube. He talks about wanting to go to Japan and his time in France. He talks about going to Hawaii with Mari and Sohinki a year ago, talks about going to New York, talks about going to Florida.
Anthony listens intently, and Ian can see the longing in his eyes, the desire to leave this island and travel. The stars shine bright above them, the endless sea dark yet inviting before them, and Ian can see Anthony’s desire to leave and never come back.
On day six, Ian and Anthony play badminton in one of the resort’s courts. Ian discovers that he’s not as fit as he thought, and he loses spectacularly to Anthony. He treats Anthony to a mango shake after their match.
Ian gets his laptop and writes in the resort’s café in the afternoon. He gets half a chapter done, his mind focused and at peace, not at all hurried and panicked. The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore is a steady music in the background, and Ian finds that he doesn’t need any of his writing playlists to get stuff done.
In the evening, as if by silent agreement, Ian and Anthony meet on the beach once more. This time, they don’t talk much, instead choosing to relax against the sand, their hands behind their heads and their eyes on the stars above. Ian sneaks a glimpse of Anthony and a smile, unbidden, appears on his face when he sees Anthony’s eyes closed, a small smile playing on his lips, his entire being looking utterly peaceful. In this little paradise, Ian thinks Anthony’s the most peaceful thing of all-neither the waves nor the skies would be able to compare.
Ian’s heart makes a painful swoop in his chest, like a masochist riding a roller coaster with the sharpest twists and deepest dives. He ignores it.
Day seven, and Ian and Anthony play volleyball. At this point, Ian is no longer surprised that Anthony’s great at sports-this is where he has been for his entire life, after all. Anthony deliberately lets Ian win a few rounds, and Ian laughs, knowing what Anthony’s doing and letting him do it anyway.
When they walk to the restaurant, Anthony tells Ian random facts about the Philippines. Anthony talks about diving sometimes, when there aren’t a lot of guests, and about some of the most interesting guests he has ever encountered, including, but not limited to, a bunch of kids who tried to transport their newly-built sandcastle into their parent’s hilltop cottage, a few Filipino celebrities who once managed to somehow break one wall of the cottage they were in, and a drunk foreigner who Anthony suspects was actually brewing meth in the hilltop cottage the foreigner had stayed in for three days.
In the afternoon, Diana joins him and Anthony, and they spend a few minutes chasing the waves, only to run back again once the waves return to the shore, not wanting to get their ankles wet. Overcome by something Ian doesn’t think he can name, he holds Anthony fast around the waist and stops him from running away once the waves come back to the shore again, their laughter loud and genuine. Anthony tries to break away from his grip, and they both topple over, both of them getting their entire selves wet. Diana laughs from the shore, not making any attempt to help them stand up.
Ian and Anthony stay in the water for a long time, content.
During those days, Ian is aware that the attraction is simmering beneath the surface. He does nothing about it though, because he knows that eventually, it will go away on its own.
If only he knew.
-.-.-.-Day 8
“Whoa.”
Ian sighs, nodding. He closes the door behind him, resisting the urge to shake his hair like a dog.
“You’re wet,” Anthony unhelpfully says, his eyes wide as he stares at Ian.
Ian gives him a look that Mari says is his “are you actually kidding me?” look. “Dude. Come on,” he says, sighing as he runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it less wet. “I mean, it’s raining hard outside.”
Anthony shakes his head and quickly looks away, as if only realizing that he’s been staring at Ian this entire time. “You’re the one who decided to go to the beach on freaking August,” he points out, walking towards a wooden cabinet.
Ian shrugs, sighing as he makes his way towards Anthony. “What are we going to do?” Ian asks instead, curious. He looks around to try and see if there’s a towel anywhere he can use to dry himself somewhat.
“Since it’s raining, I thought we could just play some board games,” Anthony says, his back to Ian. “Scrabble or chess?”
Ian turns back around. “Definitely Scrabble,” he says, walking to a nearby table and taking a seat on a rattan chair. He watches Anthony make his way towards him, watches Anthony take a seat in front of him and open the box, and he thinks there’s something here, something that’s making him feel comfortable remaining silent in Anthony’s presence.
For a few moments, they are content to be quiet, letting the rain and distant thunders be the soundtrack to their scene. Anthony is surprisingly good at Scrabble, though Ian thinks he should probably stop being surprised by anything Anthony does anymore.
Thunder cracks, and Ian looks up, watches Anthony consider his letter tiles.
“Anthony?”
Anthony looks up, his eyes meeting Ian’s dead on. “Yeah?”
Ian considers his words. He thinks about telling Anthony that he’s lonely, but that it’s okay because at least he’s with him, thinks about telling Anthony that he won’t be trapped in this island forever, that he’ll have a chance to at least travel the country, if not the world.
He finds that he wants to promise a lot of things he’s not sure he’ll be able to follow through on to Anthony. It’s a dangerous feeling, that.
Ian shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
Anthony raises his eyebrows as if to say, “are you sure?” and Ian nods.
It’s not nothing, but he won’t tell Anthony that.
-.-.-.-Day 9
It’s still raining.
“We should go outside,” Ian says, the idea taking root in his mind. It’s not a great idea, no, but he’d really rather do that than stay here and play Scrabble for the nth time.
Anthony shoots him a look. “Are you sure?” he asks in such a way that Ian knows he means “I’m game for it if you are”.
Ian merely grins before running out the center, one hand wrenching the door open. Once he’s finally outside, he doesn’t look back, knowing with absolute certainty that Anthony will follow him, no matter how ridiculous the entire thing is.
He runs to the shore, his hands outstretched and his lips twisted into a grin. The wet sand gives beneath his feet, and he looks down, his smile softening when he remembers just what he’s told Anthony so many days ago, when he remembers saying that Anthony’s eyes remind him of wet sand. He hears footsteps behind him, and he grins when he sees Anthony running towards him, his blue tank top sticking to his body, his hair becoming wavier because of the humidity.
Ian can hear the ocean waves behind him, louder and stronger and more violent in nature, can hear the distant thunders, can hear the wind howl as it bends the coconut trees to its whim, and yet he doesn’t feel scared, doesn’t feel chaotic.
He feels like he’s the eye of the storm.
“Race you to the ocean?” Ian yells, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the pitter patter of the rain.
“You’re ridiculous,” Anthony yells, but he’s laughing as he runs to the sea.
Ian grins and quickly removes his slippers before following Anthony to the point where the sand meets the sea. When he sees that Anthony’s about to win their impromptu race, Ian runs with a burst of speed, tackling Anthony into the sea once he’s close enough.
For a moment, everything is silent. But then everything rushes back to him, and Ian stands up on wet sand with shaky legs, his lungs burning, his eyes shut tight. He hears Anthony stand up behind him and Ian opens his eyes, turning around.
He’s surprised to find Anthony so close to him, and he nearly stumbles back in an effort to remove himself from Anthony’s personal space, but his attempt is stopped by Anthony’s firm grip on his shoulders.
Anthony is gravity, and Ian is helpless to resist.
Both of them are silent. The waves are high and violent, the rain is loud as it hits both water and ground, the wind is cold and furious as it manipulates the coconut trees to dance, and Ian and Anthony are both silent.
The water is waist-deep. Ian cannot run away fast enough, though he knows Anthony will let him run away if he wants to.
His heart is hammering in his chest. It feels like his heart is one with nature, like it is doing its best to recreate the storm surrounding him so that his other organs are unstable as well. His stomach is flip-flopping, his nerves are tingling, and he feels like his heart is doing cartwheels in his chest. Still, he remains silent, content to breathe in and breathe out albeit quite shakily.
Anthony’s hands are heated brands on his shoulders. Despite the loud noise of the wind and the sea, Ian can hear Anthony’s labored breathing. Ian lets his eyes meet Anthony’s, and he sees hesitance there, as well as want.
Anthony looks away from Ian, a small smile on his face. “You know, I was saying the truth,” he says, his voice soft.
Ian furrows his eyebrows, confused. “What?”
Anthony looks back into his eyes, and Ian can see no more hesitation there. “Your eyes do look like the sea.”
Ian’s eyes widen in surprise. His heart beats quicker in his chest, the storm inside him raging wilder than before. “Oh,” he says, finding that he can’t speak anything else.
“Can I kiss you now?”
Wordless, Ian can do nothing more than nod.
Anthony leans in closer, and Ian closes his eyes, his hands reaching up and placing themselves on Anthony’s waist.
Anthony kisses him, their lips moving against each other’s in a passionate dance, and it is a storm quite unlike the one that surrounds them. It is raw and it is passionate and it is an endless ocean waiting to be explored, and Ian-
-Ian lets himself go.
-.-.-.-Day 10
Ian wakes up to the knowledge that someone is watching him.
His eyes open slowly, his mind unwilling to be pulled away from sleep. He smiles when he sees that Anthony’s eyes are intent on him, brown
orbs filled with delight.
“Hey,” Ian says softly.
Anthony’s smile grows. “Hey,” he says.
They’re both naked under the thin blanket. Ian takes note of this with a happy little sigh, taking the moment to let himself get even closer to Anthony despite the fact that there’s almost no space between the two of them. It’s for body heat, Ian reasons, but he doesn’t let his mind ponder over it too long-despite the pouring rain outside, he knows why he’s doing this.
Last night had been…something. Ian’s not quite sure how to describe what last night had been, but it was definitely something Ian’s sure he won’t quickly forget. He thinks he’ll have a hard time forgetting just how Anthony’s skin felt under his touch, just how Anthony’s mouth tasted as it moved against his, just how Anthony’s shout when he came was loud enough to compete with the pouring rain and thunder.
This-the morning after-is supposed to be awkward. Ian should have woken up to a cold and empty bed, not Anthony looking down at him with such reverence in his eyes. He finds that he can’t complain, though, because heaven knows he’d rather have this. He’d rather have shy smiles and softly spoken words in this little haven from the torrential downpour than stilted conversations with a friend who might not want to keep him company anymore.
He’s been lucky, he thinks. Ian isn’t the sort to believe in things like luck, but there’s nothing else to explain this. He’s been lucky enough to meet Anthony in a country he initially didn’t even want to go to, been lucky enough to have Anthony as a friend, been lucky enough to have his affections returned. He’s doesn’t believe fate or gods, but he thinks it’s time to start being thankful to someone now.
“Wanna get breakfast?” Ian asks, his voice soft.
“It’s still raining outside,” Anthony says, closing his eyes and putting one leg in between Ian’s in an effort to be even closer.
Their voices are hushed, a desire to keep their space simply theirs keeping their words soft and low. Anthony’s softly spoken words are refreshing given the fact that Ian has been listening to loud thunder and rain for the past few days.
Ian listens to the rain for a few seconds. “I don’t think it’s stopping anytime soon,” he says, watching as Anthony slowly opens his eyes.
Anthony groans, planting his face in that spot between Ian’s neck and shoulder. “I don’t want to get up yet,” he admits, his voice muffled.
Ian laughs. He turns so that he’ll be able to face Anthony fully, one arm neatly finding its way across Anthony’s waist. “That’s okay. I don’t want to get up yet either.”
Anthony hums under his breath. “We shouldn’t have done this,” he says, casual and easy.
The bottom drops out of Ian’s stomach. “Oh,” he chokes out, tensing. He moves to separate himself from Anthony, moves to get some space between the two of them, when Anthony says, “no, that’s not what I meant.”
Ian looks at Anthony’s eyes, sincere and almost pleading. Pleading for what?
“Don’t go.”
Oh.
Ian blinks, swallows past the lump in his throat. “What do you mean?” he asks. His body is still tense, still ready to get out of bed with one single thought, but he stays there.
“I mean, well. You’re only going to be here for a few more days, right?” Anthony asks, uncertainty ringing clear in his voice.
Ian allows himself to melt back into the mattress and relax. “Yeah,” he says.
Counting today, he only has four more days. The reality of the situation hits him hard. After those four days, he’s not sure if he’ll be able to see Anthony again.
Life is not a love story. No matter what romantics like Sohinki and Mari may believe, life doesn’t work that way. This, Ian’s friendship with Anthony, was supposed to remain a friendship, not become something Ian isn’t sure he’ll be able to maintain. Nothing’s going to get magically better, and really, Ian should be staying the hell away from Anthony to save himself from the inevitable break up.
And yet, here he is, staying. It feels right, somehow.
“I don’t want to talk about leaving,” Ian says, and it’s the truth. “Do you?”
“Of course not,” Anthony says, shaking his head in as much as he can while lying down. “What do you want to talk about, then?”
“I don’t know,” Ian says. “I’d like to know more about you, though.”
Anthony smiles, the edges of his lips curling, the dimple on his cheek appearing. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
Anthony takes his time to think, humming under his breath as he does so. Ian is content to stay still and quiet, content to let the sound of the rain lull him back to a state of easy relaxation. He feels drowsy once more, feels the siren call of sleep calling him under, but Ian blinks his eyes. He wants to hear whatever Anthony will tell him.
“Remember when you asked me how I’ve become so fluent in English?” Anthony asks, his voice soft, his eyes staring into nothingness. He sounds like someone who’s reliving something in his mind.
“Yeah?” Ian asks, suddenly awake. When Anthony remains silent, Ian makes himself look Anthony directly in the eyes. “You know you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, right? I don’t have to hear about it if you don’t want to talk about it,” he says, eager to dispel the lost look in Anthony’s eyes.
“No, it’s okay,” Anthony quickly says. “My mom was from the US, you know.”
Ian actually didn’t even suspect that, but he nods anyway.
Anthony chews on his bottom lip for a few seconds before he taking a deep breath. “She uh…she met my dad here. She was on vacation.”
Ian waits for Anthony to continue.
“She had to return to the US, and when she found out that she was pregnant with me, she came back here,” Anthony says, still staring at nothing in particular.
Ian can hear the rain starting to weaken, like it’s slowing down and becoming quieter specifically for Anthony.
“Anyway, she and my dad were young. She thought her parents wouldn’t approve, so she didn’t tell them about me.” Anthony takes a sharp breath, exhaling slowly right after. “She died during childbirth, and my dad didn’t know who her parents were, so I was raised here. Then, my dad found an opportunity to work in the US, so he left me here with my lola-that’s my grandma-and uh, he found someone. Long story short, my dad has a new family in the US. I talk to my half-siblings, so that’s how I learned how to speak English very fluently.”
Those aren’t easy words to say, Ian knows. He appreciates the fact that Anthony told him these things even when Ian himself doesn’t think he deserves to know something that’s obviously as close to home as this is.
“I,” Ian begins, but his mouth closes after a second when he realizes that he doesn’t really know what to say. Should he wait for Anthony to say more? Should he start talking about himself?
He takes a deep breath. “I appreciate you telling me this,” he says, opting for honesty. “Thank you.”
Anthony smiles, but it’s a sad facsimile of one, something Ian doesn’t want to see again. “It’s nothing,” he says, even though Ian knows that it’s everything. Anthony’s just that kind of person, Ian thinks-the kind who downplays achievements because he thinks he doesn’t deserve credit, or that other people deserve that credit more than him.
Ian sits up slowly, letting the blanket fall to his hips. “No, it’s not nothing,” he says, because Anthony has to know that this means a lot to him. He sees Anthony sigh, and he shakes his head. “No, listen to me. I appreciate you telling me this, okay?”
Ian’s not the type of person who’s naturally gifted at talking about feelings, but for Anthony, he thinks he’s willing to try. He may not have known Anthony for long, but Ian thinks he already knows more about him, considering the fact that they’ve only spent a couple of days keeping each other company.
Slowly, Anthony sits up as well, the blanket bunching on his hips. Outside, the rain starts to pour more heavily-Ian hopes that that isn’t some sort of symbolism the universe is trying to offer him.
“I know that you appreciate this,” Anthony says, running his fingers through his hair. “I know that, and I think it’s awesome that you know just what this means to me. It’s just, you know, it’s become something that I’ve learned to live with.” He shakes his head, a self-deprecating laugh making its way past his lips. “Or maybe I haven’t really learned how to live with it. I don’t know. It’s not nothing, but I want it to be.”
Ian stays silent. He knows that Anthony needs this, knows that Anthony needs to keep talking, needs to get everything out before he shuts his lips.
Anthony takes a deep breath. “You know, lola is sick. That’s why you don’t see her too often. My dad’s doing his best, sending me money and things, and I’m grateful, I really am, but I just-” he stops, his mouth abruptly closing. Ian can practically see Anthony deflate. “I don’t know. I’m worried about being stuck here for the rest of my life,” Anthony eventually confesses, his voice soft, like he doesn’t want to breathe life into his words, like what he just said is something he never meant to see the light of day. “I’m worried that there’s nothing for me besides this, you know? I know I shouldn’t be worried, that I should be grateful that I even have something like this, but-”
Ian shakes his head. “No. I think it’s okay for you to be worried.”
Anthony exhales. “Thank you,” he says, sincere.
Ian doesn’t say anything. Instead, he faces Anthony and leans in slowly, giving Anthony enough time to back away if he doesn’t want this. When Anthony doesn’t back away, Ian’s lips twist into a small smile before he kisses Anthony, deep and passionate, somehow a spark and a brightly burning flame in itself at the same time.
He kisses Anthony, and he hopes Anthony knows that Ian thinks there’s something waiting for him out there.
-.-.-.-“I fucked the service.”
Mari stops walking, blinking, before she sighs exasperatedly, like she should have expected this would happen. In all honesty, she probably should have seen this coming, but Ian would never say that out loud.
In his defense though, it’s not like Ian does this all the time. He doesn’t make a habit of having sex with strangers. After all the things they’ve talked about this morning in Ian’s cottage, Anthony is anything but a stranger, but Mari would probably disagree with him.
Mari starts to walk again, and Ian looks at the screen with a grin, completely unapologetic.
“God, I can see your shit-eating grin right now. It’s way too early for this,” Mari says, shaking her head.
“What do you mean? It’s four in the afternoon right now,” Ian says, purposefully ignoring the fact that it’s one in the morning where Mari is. He stops himself from bursting into laughter at Mari’s exasperated look.
Ian’s in the café once again. The rain stopped halfway through lunch, and so Ian took the time to grab his laptop from his room and get some writing done in the café. Thankfully, the seats and tables weren’t wet anymore, and Ian carefully put his laptop down, intending to Skype Mari after a few hours.
“Ugh, why am I even friends with you?” Mari asks. Ian grins wider-he knows she doesn’t mean it.
Ian shrugs. “It’s my charm, I hear.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Mari says, and Ian laughs. “I told you not to do anything rash, damn it.”
“It’s not that, I swear,” Ian says, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s not like I forced him or anything. Nothing’s awkward, I promise.”
Mari tilts her head. “Maybe nothing’s awkward now, but what about later? You are going to leave that island, you know.”
Ian blinks, bowing his head. He may not be the romantic type, may not be the kind of person who constantly needs to be in a relationship, but he still knows that this-what he has with Anthony-means something. He has always admired what Mari and Sohinki have, and maybe, just maybe, on some level, he wanted that for himself as well.
He’s not kidding himself-this thing that he has with Anthony is nowhere close to what Mari has with Sohinki, but to be honest, he can see its potential, can see what it can be in the future, if only they had more time.
Ian sighs. “I know,” he says. “I’m trying not to think about it, though.”
He’s probably running away from his problems, but then again, that has always been an issue with him. He knows that he and Anthony aren’t deep in this relationship, knows that they can still pull away from commitment, but despite the warning signals in his head, he doesn’t want to do that. He wants to see where this can lead.
Cheesy, yes, but in his defense, he has a right to being cheesy every once in a while.
The simple fact is that Anthony makes Ian enjoy things just that little bit more. Anthony reminds Ian of the things he has taken for granted. It’s funny how he, the one who has traveled and experienced more, learned more from the man who stayed on the same island his entire life than vice versa.
It’s humbling, that.
Mari sighs. “How many more days until your flight back?”
“Four days, including today,” Ian answers, looking out at the sea. He’ll miss the view, he thinks. He’ll miss the smell of the ocean in the air and the constant sounds of the waves crashing on the shore.
Mari nods slowly. “So that means you only have three days on that island, right?”
Ian sighs, nods.
Three days.
Part four here.
Author:lavenderpisha09
Pairings: Ian/Anthony
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst, AU, Smut
Summary: It’s funny, how two people can affect each other in so many ways in so little time.
Author's Notes: For teamfreefuckery, who requested an AU where Anthony was raised in the Philippines and meets Ian when Ian goes to the Philippines for a vacation. I hope you enjoy this fic from your resident Filipino nerds. This fic is very AU, so beware. Teamfreefuckery, I hope you like this fic as well, and I hope I managed to write what you were expecting. I probably didn’t write it very well, but I think I did my best.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Smosh. I don’t make money from this.
Part two here.
Day five goes like this: Ian writing a little bit in the morning, a cup of freshly-brewed coffee beside him and the smell of the sea in the air as his fingers move on the keyboard. He gets one chapter done before lunch, and he grins, because he has gotten much more done during that morning compared to a full week back in Los Angeles, when he first got the idea to publish a book and had been trying to write at least one chapter.
In the afternoon, he and Anthony-well, mostly he-learn a folk dance called “Tinikling” from Diana. Two other men hold two long bamboo poles and tap them against the ground following a certain beat, and Ian and Anthony laugh breathlessly as they both try not to get their feet caught between the two bamboo poles once the two men have to tap the bamboo poles against each other. After a few minutes, Ian inevitably gets his ankle trapped between the two poles and he starts to fall to the sand, laughing loudly as he does so, his hand catching Anthony’s tank top because if he’s going down, then he’s certainly going to bring Anthony down with him.
It takes time for Ian and Anthony’s laughter to die down.
After dinner, Ian goes to the sandy shore, his feet bare against the sand. The wind feels good against his skin and the view is exquisite. He’s unsurprised to find Anthony in their usual spot, and he smiles, walking towards him and sitting beside their coconut tree. They spend the next hour talking about anything and everything, with Ian mostly doing the talking and Anthony being content to listen. Ian talks about Los Angeles and Mari and Sohinki and Youtube. He talks about wanting to go to Japan and his time in France. He talks about going to Hawaii with Mari and Sohinki a year ago, talks about going to New York, talks about going to Florida.
Anthony listens intently, and Ian can see the longing in his eyes, the desire to leave this island and travel. The stars shine bright above them, the endless sea dark yet inviting before them, and Ian can see Anthony’s desire to leave and never come back.
On day six, Ian and Anthony play badminton in one of the resort’s courts. Ian discovers that he’s not as fit as he thought, and he loses spectacularly to Anthony. He treats Anthony to a mango shake after their match.
Ian gets his laptop and writes in the resort’s café in the afternoon. He gets half a chapter done, his mind focused and at peace, not at all hurried and panicked. The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore is a steady music in the background, and Ian finds that he doesn’t need any of his writing playlists to get stuff done.
In the evening, as if by silent agreement, Ian and Anthony meet on the beach once more. This time, they don’t talk much, instead choosing to relax against the sand, their hands behind their heads and their eyes on the stars above. Ian sneaks a glimpse of Anthony and a smile, unbidden, appears on his face when he sees Anthony’s eyes closed, a small smile playing on his lips, his entire being looking utterly peaceful. In this little paradise, Ian thinks Anthony’s the most peaceful thing of all-neither the waves nor the skies would be able to compare.
Ian’s heart makes a painful swoop in his chest, like a masochist riding a roller coaster with the sharpest twists and deepest dives. He ignores it.
Day seven, and Ian and Anthony play volleyball. At this point, Ian is no longer surprised that Anthony’s great at sports-this is where he has been for his entire life, after all. Anthony deliberately lets Ian win a few rounds, and Ian laughs, knowing what Anthony’s doing and letting him do it anyway.
When they walk to the restaurant, Anthony tells Ian random facts about the Philippines. Anthony talks about diving sometimes, when there aren’t a lot of guests, and about some of the most interesting guests he has ever encountered, including, but not limited to, a bunch of kids who tried to transport their newly-built sandcastle into their parent’s hilltop cottage, a few Filipino celebrities who once managed to somehow break one wall of the cottage they were in, and a drunk foreigner who Anthony suspects was actually brewing meth in the hilltop cottage the foreigner had stayed in for three days.
In the afternoon, Diana joins him and Anthony, and they spend a few minutes chasing the waves, only to run back again once the waves return to the shore, not wanting to get their ankles wet. Overcome by something Ian doesn’t think he can name, he holds Anthony fast around the waist and stops him from running away once the waves come back to the shore again, their laughter loud and genuine. Anthony tries to break away from his grip, and they both topple over, both of them getting their entire selves wet. Diana laughs from the shore, not making any attempt to help them stand up.
Ian and Anthony stay in the water for a long time, content.
During those days, Ian is aware that the attraction is simmering beneath the surface. He does nothing about it though, because he knows that eventually, it will go away on its own.
If only he knew.
-.-.-.-Day 8
“Whoa.”
Ian sighs, nodding. He closes the door behind him, resisting the urge to shake his hair like a dog.
“You’re wet,” Anthony unhelpfully says, his eyes wide as he stares at Ian.
Ian gives him a look that Mari says is his “are you actually kidding me?” look. “Dude. Come on,” he says, sighing as he runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it less wet. “I mean, it’s raining hard outside.”
Anthony shakes his head and quickly looks away, as if only realizing that he’s been staring at Ian this entire time. “You’re the one who decided to go to the beach on freaking August,” he points out, walking towards a wooden cabinet.
Ian shrugs, sighing as he makes his way towards Anthony. “What are we going to do?” Ian asks instead, curious. He looks around to try and see if there’s a towel anywhere he can use to dry himself somewhat.
“Since it’s raining, I thought we could just play some board games,” Anthony says, his back to Ian. “Scrabble or chess?”
Ian turns back around. “Definitely Scrabble,” he says, walking to a nearby table and taking a seat on a rattan chair. He watches Anthony make his way towards him, watches Anthony take a seat in front of him and open the box, and he thinks there’s something here, something that’s making him feel comfortable remaining silent in Anthony’s presence.
For a few moments, they are content to be quiet, letting the rain and distant thunders be the soundtrack to their scene. Anthony is surprisingly good at Scrabble, though Ian thinks he should probably stop being surprised by anything Anthony does anymore.
Thunder cracks, and Ian looks up, watches Anthony consider his letter tiles.
“Anthony?”
Anthony looks up, his eyes meeting Ian’s dead on. “Yeah?”
Ian considers his words. He thinks about telling Anthony that he’s lonely, but that it’s okay because at least he’s with him, thinks about telling Anthony that he won’t be trapped in this island forever, that he’ll have a chance to at least travel the country, if not the world.
He finds that he wants to promise a lot of things he’s not sure he’ll be able to follow through on to Anthony. It’s a dangerous feeling, that.
Ian shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
Anthony raises his eyebrows as if to say, “are you sure?” and Ian nods.
It’s not nothing, but he won’t tell Anthony that.
-.-.-.-Day 9
It’s still raining.
“We should go outside,” Ian says, the idea taking root in his mind. It’s not a great idea, no, but he’d really rather do that than stay here and play Scrabble for the nth time.
Anthony shoots him a look. “Are you sure?” he asks in such a way that Ian knows he means “I’m game for it if you are”.
Ian merely grins before running out the center, one hand wrenching the door open. Once he’s finally outside, he doesn’t look back, knowing with absolute certainty that Anthony will follow him, no matter how ridiculous the entire thing is.
He runs to the shore, his hands outstretched and his lips twisted into a grin. The wet sand gives beneath his feet, and he looks down, his smile softening when he remembers just what he’s told Anthony so many days ago, when he remembers saying that Anthony’s eyes remind him of wet sand. He hears footsteps behind him, and he grins when he sees Anthony running towards him, his blue tank top sticking to his body, his hair becoming wavier because of the humidity.
Ian can hear the ocean waves behind him, louder and stronger and more violent in nature, can hear the distant thunders, can hear the wind howl as it bends the coconut trees to its whim, and yet he doesn’t feel scared, doesn’t feel chaotic.
He feels like he’s the eye of the storm.
“Race you to the ocean?” Ian yells, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the pitter patter of the rain.
“You’re ridiculous,” Anthony yells, but he’s laughing as he runs to the sea.
Ian grins and quickly removes his slippers before following Anthony to the point where the sand meets the sea. When he sees that Anthony’s about to win their impromptu race, Ian runs with a burst of speed, tackling Anthony into the sea once he’s close enough.
For a moment, everything is silent. But then everything rushes back to him, and Ian stands up on wet sand with shaky legs, his lungs burning, his eyes shut tight. He hears Anthony stand up behind him and Ian opens his eyes, turning around.
He’s surprised to find Anthony so close to him, and he nearly stumbles back in an effort to remove himself from Anthony’s personal space, but his attempt is stopped by Anthony’s firm grip on his shoulders.
Anthony is gravity, and Ian is helpless to resist.
Both of them are silent. The waves are high and violent, the rain is loud as it hits both water and ground, the wind is cold and furious as it manipulates the coconut trees to dance, and Ian and Anthony are both silent.
The water is waist-deep. Ian cannot run away fast enough, though he knows Anthony will let him run away if he wants to.
His heart is hammering in his chest. It feels like his heart is one with nature, like it is doing its best to recreate the storm surrounding him so that his other organs are unstable as well. His stomach is flip-flopping, his nerves are tingling, and he feels like his heart is doing cartwheels in his chest. Still, he remains silent, content to breathe in and breathe out albeit quite shakily.
Anthony’s hands are heated brands on his shoulders. Despite the loud noise of the wind and the sea, Ian can hear Anthony’s labored breathing. Ian lets his eyes meet Anthony’s, and he sees hesitance there, as well as want.
Anthony looks away from Ian, a small smile on his face. “You know, I was saying the truth,” he says, his voice soft.
Ian furrows his eyebrows, confused. “What?”
Anthony looks back into his eyes, and Ian can see no more hesitation there. “Your eyes do look like the sea.”
Ian’s eyes widen in surprise. His heart beats quicker in his chest, the storm inside him raging wilder than before. “Oh,” he says, finding that he can’t speak anything else.
“Can I kiss you now?”
Wordless, Ian can do nothing more than nod.
Anthony leans in closer, and Ian closes his eyes, his hands reaching up and placing themselves on Anthony’s waist.
Anthony kisses him, their lips moving against each other’s in a passionate dance, and it is a storm quite unlike the one that surrounds them. It is raw and it is passionate and it is an endless ocean waiting to be explored, and Ian-
-Ian lets himself go.
-.-.-.-Day 10
Ian wakes up to the knowledge that someone is watching him.
His eyes open slowly, his mind unwilling to be pulled away from sleep. He smiles when he sees that Anthony’s eyes are intent on him, brown
orbs filled with delight.
“Hey,” Ian says softly.
Anthony’s smile grows. “Hey,” he says.
They’re both naked under the thin blanket. Ian takes note of this with a happy little sigh, taking the moment to let himself get even closer to Anthony despite the fact that there’s almost no space between the two of them. It’s for body heat, Ian reasons, but he doesn’t let his mind ponder over it too long-despite the pouring rain outside, he knows why he’s doing this.
Last night had been…something. Ian’s not quite sure how to describe what last night had been, but it was definitely something Ian’s sure he won’t quickly forget. He thinks he’ll have a hard time forgetting just how Anthony’s skin felt under his touch, just how Anthony’s mouth tasted as it moved against his, just how Anthony’s shout when he came was loud enough to compete with the pouring rain and thunder.
This-the morning after-is supposed to be awkward. Ian should have woken up to a cold and empty bed, not Anthony looking down at him with such reverence in his eyes. He finds that he can’t complain, though, because heaven knows he’d rather have this. He’d rather have shy smiles and softly spoken words in this little haven from the torrential downpour than stilted conversations with a friend who might not want to keep him company anymore.
He’s been lucky, he thinks. Ian isn’t the sort to believe in things like luck, but there’s nothing else to explain this. He’s been lucky enough to meet Anthony in a country he initially didn’t even want to go to, been lucky enough to have Anthony as a friend, been lucky enough to have his affections returned. He’s doesn’t believe fate or gods, but he thinks it’s time to start being thankful to someone now.
“Wanna get breakfast?” Ian asks, his voice soft.
“It’s still raining outside,” Anthony says, closing his eyes and putting one leg in between Ian’s in an effort to be even closer.
Their voices are hushed, a desire to keep their space simply theirs keeping their words soft and low. Anthony’s softly spoken words are refreshing given the fact that Ian has been listening to loud thunder and rain for the past few days.
Ian listens to the rain for a few seconds. “I don’t think it’s stopping anytime soon,” he says, watching as Anthony slowly opens his eyes.
Anthony groans, planting his face in that spot between Ian’s neck and shoulder. “I don’t want to get up yet,” he admits, his voice muffled.
Ian laughs. He turns so that he’ll be able to face Anthony fully, one arm neatly finding its way across Anthony’s waist. “That’s okay. I don’t want to get up yet either.”
Anthony hums under his breath. “We shouldn’t have done this,” he says, casual and easy.
The bottom drops out of Ian’s stomach. “Oh,” he chokes out, tensing. He moves to separate himself from Anthony, moves to get some space between the two of them, when Anthony says, “no, that’s not what I meant.”
Ian looks at Anthony’s eyes, sincere and almost pleading. Pleading for what?
“Don’t go.”
Oh.
Ian blinks, swallows past the lump in his throat. “What do you mean?” he asks. His body is still tense, still ready to get out of bed with one single thought, but he stays there.
“I mean, well. You’re only going to be here for a few more days, right?” Anthony asks, uncertainty ringing clear in his voice.
Ian allows himself to melt back into the mattress and relax. “Yeah,” he says.
Counting today, he only has four more days. The reality of the situation hits him hard. After those four days, he’s not sure if he’ll be able to see Anthony again.
Life is not a love story. No matter what romantics like Sohinki and Mari may believe, life doesn’t work that way. This, Ian’s friendship with Anthony, was supposed to remain a friendship, not become something Ian isn’t sure he’ll be able to maintain. Nothing’s going to get magically better, and really, Ian should be staying the hell away from Anthony to save himself from the inevitable break up.
And yet, here he is, staying. It feels right, somehow.
“I don’t want to talk about leaving,” Ian says, and it’s the truth. “Do you?”
“Of course not,” Anthony says, shaking his head in as much as he can while lying down. “What do you want to talk about, then?”
“I don’t know,” Ian says. “I’d like to know more about you, though.”
Anthony smiles, the edges of his lips curling, the dimple on his cheek appearing. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
Anthony takes his time to think, humming under his breath as he does so. Ian is content to stay still and quiet, content to let the sound of the rain lull him back to a state of easy relaxation. He feels drowsy once more, feels the siren call of sleep calling him under, but Ian blinks his eyes. He wants to hear whatever Anthony will tell him.
“Remember when you asked me how I’ve become so fluent in English?” Anthony asks, his voice soft, his eyes staring into nothingness. He sounds like someone who’s reliving something in his mind.
“Yeah?” Ian asks, suddenly awake. When Anthony remains silent, Ian makes himself look Anthony directly in the eyes. “You know you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, right? I don’t have to hear about it if you don’t want to talk about it,” he says, eager to dispel the lost look in Anthony’s eyes.
“No, it’s okay,” Anthony quickly says. “My mom was from the US, you know.”
Ian actually didn’t even suspect that, but he nods anyway.
Anthony chews on his bottom lip for a few seconds before he taking a deep breath. “She uh…she met my dad here. She was on vacation.”
Ian waits for Anthony to continue.
“She had to return to the US, and when she found out that she was pregnant with me, she came back here,” Anthony says, still staring at nothing in particular.
Ian can hear the rain starting to weaken, like it’s slowing down and becoming quieter specifically for Anthony.
“Anyway, she and my dad were young. She thought her parents wouldn’t approve, so she didn’t tell them about me.” Anthony takes a sharp breath, exhaling slowly right after. “She died during childbirth, and my dad didn’t know who her parents were, so I was raised here. Then, my dad found an opportunity to work in the US, so he left me here with my lola-that’s my grandma-and uh, he found someone. Long story short, my dad has a new family in the US. I talk to my half-siblings, so that’s how I learned how to speak English very fluently.”
Those aren’t easy words to say, Ian knows. He appreciates the fact that Anthony told him these things even when Ian himself doesn’t think he deserves to know something that’s obviously as close to home as this is.
“I,” Ian begins, but his mouth closes after a second when he realizes that he doesn’t really know what to say. Should he wait for Anthony to say more? Should he start talking about himself?
He takes a deep breath. “I appreciate you telling me this,” he says, opting for honesty. “Thank you.”
Anthony smiles, but it’s a sad facsimile of one, something Ian doesn’t want to see again. “It’s nothing,” he says, even though Ian knows that it’s everything. Anthony’s just that kind of person, Ian thinks-the kind who downplays achievements because he thinks he doesn’t deserve credit, or that other people deserve that credit more than him.
Ian sits up slowly, letting the blanket fall to his hips. “No, it’s not nothing,” he says, because Anthony has to know that this means a lot to him. He sees Anthony sigh, and he shakes his head. “No, listen to me. I appreciate you telling me this, okay?”
Ian’s not the type of person who’s naturally gifted at talking about feelings, but for Anthony, he thinks he’s willing to try. He may not have known Anthony for long, but Ian thinks he already knows more about him, considering the fact that they’ve only spent a couple of days keeping each other company.
Slowly, Anthony sits up as well, the blanket bunching on his hips. Outside, the rain starts to pour more heavily-Ian hopes that that isn’t some sort of symbolism the universe is trying to offer him.
“I know that you appreciate this,” Anthony says, running his fingers through his hair. “I know that, and I think it’s awesome that you know just what this means to me. It’s just, you know, it’s become something that I’ve learned to live with.” He shakes his head, a self-deprecating laugh making its way past his lips. “Or maybe I haven’t really learned how to live with it. I don’t know. It’s not nothing, but I want it to be.”
Ian stays silent. He knows that Anthony needs this, knows that Anthony needs to keep talking, needs to get everything out before he shuts his lips.
Anthony takes a deep breath. “You know, lola is sick. That’s why you don’t see her too often. My dad’s doing his best, sending me money and things, and I’m grateful, I really am, but I just-” he stops, his mouth abruptly closing. Ian can practically see Anthony deflate. “I don’t know. I’m worried about being stuck here for the rest of my life,” Anthony eventually confesses, his voice soft, like he doesn’t want to breathe life into his words, like what he just said is something he never meant to see the light of day. “I’m worried that there’s nothing for me besides this, you know? I know I shouldn’t be worried, that I should be grateful that I even have something like this, but-”
Ian shakes his head. “No. I think it’s okay for you to be worried.”
Anthony exhales. “Thank you,” he says, sincere.
Ian doesn’t say anything. Instead, he faces Anthony and leans in slowly, giving Anthony enough time to back away if he doesn’t want this. When Anthony doesn’t back away, Ian’s lips twist into a small smile before he kisses Anthony, deep and passionate, somehow a spark and a brightly burning flame in itself at the same time.
He kisses Anthony, and he hopes Anthony knows that Ian thinks there’s something waiting for him out there.
-.-.-.-“I fucked the service.”
Mari stops walking, blinking, before she sighs exasperatedly, like she should have expected this would happen. In all honesty, she probably should have seen this coming, but Ian would never say that out loud.
In his defense though, it’s not like Ian does this all the time. He doesn’t make a habit of having sex with strangers. After all the things they’ve talked about this morning in Ian’s cottage, Anthony is anything but a stranger, but Mari would probably disagree with him.
Mari starts to walk again, and Ian looks at the screen with a grin, completely unapologetic.
“God, I can see your shit-eating grin right now. It’s way too early for this,” Mari says, shaking her head.
“What do you mean? It’s four in the afternoon right now,” Ian says, purposefully ignoring the fact that it’s one in the morning where Mari is. He stops himself from bursting into laughter at Mari’s exasperated look.
Ian’s in the café once again. The rain stopped halfway through lunch, and so Ian took the time to grab his laptop from his room and get some writing done in the café. Thankfully, the seats and tables weren’t wet anymore, and Ian carefully put his laptop down, intending to Skype Mari after a few hours.
“Ugh, why am I even friends with you?” Mari asks. Ian grins wider-he knows she doesn’t mean it.
Ian shrugs. “It’s my charm, I hear.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Mari says, and Ian laughs. “I told you not to do anything rash, damn it.”
“It’s not that, I swear,” Ian says, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s not like I forced him or anything. Nothing’s awkward, I promise.”
Mari tilts her head. “Maybe nothing’s awkward now, but what about later? You are going to leave that island, you know.”
Ian blinks, bowing his head. He may not be the romantic type, may not be the kind of person who constantly needs to be in a relationship, but he still knows that this-what he has with Anthony-means something. He has always admired what Mari and Sohinki have, and maybe, just maybe, on some level, he wanted that for himself as well.
He’s not kidding himself-this thing that he has with Anthony is nowhere close to what Mari has with Sohinki, but to be honest, he can see its potential, can see what it can be in the future, if only they had more time.
Ian sighs. “I know,” he says. “I’m trying not to think about it, though.”
He’s probably running away from his problems, but then again, that has always been an issue with him. He knows that he and Anthony aren’t deep in this relationship, knows that they can still pull away from commitment, but despite the warning signals in his head, he doesn’t want to do that. He wants to see where this can lead.
Cheesy, yes, but in his defense, he has a right to being cheesy every once in a while.
The simple fact is that Anthony makes Ian enjoy things just that little bit more. Anthony reminds Ian of the things he has taken for granted. It’s funny how he, the one who has traveled and experienced more, learned more from the man who stayed on the same island his entire life than vice versa.
It’s humbling, that.
Mari sighs. “How many more days until your flight back?”
“Four days, including today,” Ian answers, looking out at the sea. He’ll miss the view, he thinks. He’ll miss the smell of the ocean in the air and the constant sounds of the waves crashing on the shore.
Mari nods slowly. “So that means you only have three days on that island, right?”
Ian sighs, nods.
Three days.
Part four here.