As soon as Ian began driving, Anthony had to ask him some questions.
"Why'd you come after me?" Anthony began, turning off the radio so he could be heard. Did Ian seriously care about him enough to go out and search for pointers to his location for who knows how long?
Without looking away from the road, Ian questioned, "What makes you think I wouldn't?" Then, Ian spared Anthony a glance and laughed in a bad try at lightening the mood. "And what's up with the sunglasses at night?" The hype he had gotten off singing was fading by the millisecond.
Anthony sighed heavily and slowly removed the glasses from his face, revealing bloodshot eyes that showed how much he had been crying. Ian knew that Anthony usually didn't cry over petty matters, so it was pretty special that Anthony had shed tears over him.
Turning back to the road, Ian felt his own eyes begin to sting. Anthony was still probably having a hard time keeping his waterworks stemmed, and it was all his fault. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his attempt at sounding strong failing miserably. Swedish House Mafia had completely fled his system. He could feel salty tears prickling at the brim of his eyelids.
Why are you so bad to your boyfriend?
"Shut up," Ian hoarsely mumbled. He could feel Anthony's eyes on him and Ian stated, "When we get home, I'm coming clean. I need to know we won't get in a car wreck talking about this." A tear trailed down his cheek, and he felt Anthony brush it away for him.