Across the Pond, Part Two
summary: AU. Ian is a Californian vlogger, and Anthony is one living in the UK. They meet at VidCon.
pairings: guest starring Phan
warnings: mild language
rating: pg-13
A/N: pretty sure this'll only be four to five parts. Posting should be Wednesday and Saturday, but I posted the first chapter Thursday because I was busy and whatever.
When Ian closes his laptop and looks out the window, the sun is low in the sky, a brilliant orange contrasting the smog of the city. He rubs his eyes. He had settled into his hotel room by taking a quick shower and skipping dinner to edit a video and look over what he plans to say to the crowd tomorrow. Now that he thinks of it, he is rather hungry, and decides to go out and get a bite to eat.
Exiting his hotel room and going to the hallway, he sees a familiar face in front of the elevator, and smiles when he realizes it's the man he met a few hours previous, Anthony.
"Hey." Ian says, greeting him, and he turns and smiles. "How are you?"
"Good, thanks." He says a bit passively. "And you?"
"I'm alright. Getting a bite to eat." He shrugs.
"Oh, got a dinner date or something?" He asks, and Ian holds back a laugh.
"Me? No, my girlfriend's back in New Jersey. What about you, what are you doing out here?" The elevator beeps and the doors open up, and they board together.
"My friends and I were out looking around for awhile, which was pretty cool, but then we went back to tidy ourselves up again and then they-" He blushes and looks at the ground. "Well, it was time for me to leave."
Ian laughs, and Anthony does too, his high pitched outburst of course causing Ian to laugh even harder. He watches the man's vlogs, and the laugh has become so familiar to him that it isn't a surprise to hear.
"That's fine." Ian responds when their laughing's done. "Hey, you should come find something with me, I was gonna eat, but if you're not hungry-"
"No, I'm starving." Anthony cuts him off as the elevator stops on the ground floor. "Yeah, let's go, sounds fun."
Exiting the hotel, they find the place swarming with teenage girls, and hold back groans.
"I love the fans, mate, but I was hoping for a night without screaming and autographs before Vidcon starts tomorrow." Anthony sighs, and Ian chuckles a bit at the affectionate term 'mate.'
"Yeah, I know how you feel. Wait, look-"
He steps to the side, before any of the girls spot him. Anthony rushes after him, and he finds Ian admiring two bikes on a bike rack.
"These will work." Ian points to them, and Anthony shakes his head.
"Man, I just got to America, I don't want Obama throwing me in jail because I stole a kid's bike."
"Relax." Ian chuckles. "We'll have them back soon. Come on, they're not even chained up. If we don't take them, someone else will."
"Okay." Anthony agrees, still uncertain, and takes the black bike. Ian grabs the blue one, and they ride away from the hotel, Ian leading the way.
The air has cooled considerably since midday, when it reached temperatures higher than Anthony had ever seen in England. There is a slight wind blowing now, tousling their hair as they bike down a crowded highway.
"Follow me!" Ian yells over his shoulder to his new friend, and he nods and laughs.
They bike across town, Anthony wanting to stop and take it all in. America, it seems to him, is just like London, but everything's bigger and more lit up. Bigger roads, bigger signs, just bigger everything, all in shining LED's and flickering bulbs that could blind you if you looked too long.
As they pedal down streets, past buses, cars, and buildings, they begin to tire, but continue going, not feeling a weighted exhaustion, but rather pleasant soreness, the kind that comes with adventure. After about an hour, Ian finally slows and pulls over, Anthony following, already loyal to this stranger (who feels more like an old friend, thanks to Anthony being such a fan of his videos).
"Where are we?" Anthony asks when he catches his breath, looking around. They're on the side of a highway, full of noisy, speeding cars, a thin woods on one side of them, and some stores on the other side of the road.
"I wanted to show you the part of L.A. the tourists don't know about." Ian smiles, then walks his bike into the woods. Anthony's confused, but follows. "You have to pay at the entrance, but it's easier to just come in through here." Ian calls from ahead, and Anthony ponders this until they step out of the thicket.
They're standing on a shore, a giant pile of mud that leads to a slab of rock that's being battered by the waves. The traffic on the highway prevents people from hearing the ocean, but once they pass through the trees, all they can hear is the stir of the sea, the screeching of albatross, the hum of cicadas and crickets. It's beautiful, like a patch of Earth that everyone else forgot about.
"Wow." Anthony says, staring out into the water, salt teasing his lips. He takes a deep breath of the sea air, absorbing the smell of salt and wood and dirt.
"A friend showed me this place a long time ago." Ian comments, looking at the waves. "Now, I come every time I'm here for business or Vidcon. It's nice, right?"
"Yeah." Both of them have goofy smiles a bit too large on their faces. "Brilliant."
"Come on, leave your bike here, there's more." Ian says, and Anthony obeys without hesitation this time, feeling no harm will come to the stranger's bike while it's resting there.
They walk along the trees for several minutes in a comfortable silence, in the space that was dry dirt, not quite mud. Anthony takes ginger steps, while Ian plods comfortably along, and, after a few minutes, Ian turns around with a little smile that won't seem to leave.
"Have you ever been to the Pacific Ocean?"
"No, I've never left England." Anthony sighs, looking at the light from the moon dancing on the dark waves.
"Then don't let some mud stop you." Ian responds, and bends down, slipping off his shoes. Picking up his shoes and holding them in one hand, he walks through the mud until he reaches the large slabs of rock, rough on his bare feet.
"Bloody hell, then, why not!" Anthony yells, taking off his shoes and stepping into the cold mud. He walks to Ian's side, his feet getting splattered with cold ocean water as he reaches the rock.
"Bloody hell." Ian mocks him, and he gives him a playful shove in response. "Come on, there's still more."
"More than this?" Anthony throws out his arms, not caring if it's cliché. "I'm standing on a giant rock with my favorite Youtuber in California. In the Pacific Ocean, of all things! How could it get better than this?"
"So I'm your favorite Youtuber?" Ian yells over the roar of the surf, throwing him a cheeky grin.
"Sod off." Anthony responds with a laugh, and they continue to walk down the shore.
They walk about a mile before they see lights that don't come from the moon or the first stars, yellow ones that twinkle on the shore ahead. The large slabs of rock start to get smaller and smaller, and they've got to climb and hop over them instead of walking on horizontal surfaces. Eventually, they reach an area that's purely sand, and see the source of the lights.
It's a stand on the beach, built with thin and rotting wood, decorated with Christmas lights. The stand is piled with food and lanterns, and behind it sits a fat man in a folding chair, widdling a pipe out of a piece of driftwood. Anthony can't believe his eyes.
"Give us some of everything, and two lanterns to rent, please." Ian says to the man with a nod, and he puts down his pipe, getting out of his chair. Ian turns and smiles to Anthony, who's wide-eyed. "It's a family business." He explains in a soft tone. "His sister and brother make the food, he sells it. Best seafood in California, plus they sell the average cheap stuff, too."
"Twenty." The man behind the stand says, and Anthony's surprised to see two trays ladened with food sitting besides two lanterns.
Ian hands him the money, paying for both meals before Anthony can protest, and they begin walking further down the beach, carefully balancing their trays and lanterns. They finally sit next to some grassy dunes, Ian removing a lighter from the pocket of his shorts to light the old fashioned lanterns.
"This is so cool." Anthony exclaims, looking over the food they'd gotten. "There's lobster tail next to my candy floss."
"How does that look like floss at all?" Ian questions. "It looks more like cotton...cotton candy. America wins again!"
They laugh, and Anthony picks up his cup. "What'll we drink to?"
"America." Ian says jokingly, but Anthony nods.
"You know what, I will drink to America." He says, and they bump their plastic cups together before taking large gulps. Anthony makes a sour face.
"We're in America, Ant, you have to drink lukewarm cheap beer like the rest of us." Ian smiles, and digs into his food. Anthony, for some reason, doesn't mind when he calls him Ant, despite usually being irked when people other than Dan or Phil call him that.
They sit out for awhile, just chatting about their lives and cracking jokes. They find it surprisingly easy to talk to one another, as if they'd known each other and been friends for years. Neither is lonely or homesick, just comfortable, at peace. They eat their food, finding it all delicious, and with their lanterns, explore the beach until they exhaust themselves laughing at each other's jokes and skipping rocks on the calm waves.
It's around half past midnight when they return their lanterns to the man behind the stand, thanking him for the food and booze. They begin their long trek back to the spot they left their bikes, smiles lifting the corners of their lips and weariness pulling down on their feet. It's a nice trek back, cozy and pleasant like a warm night in a living room before Christmas.
When they get back to their bikes, they travel back to their hotel, the roads much emptier than they were before. The front of the hotel is barren of fans now, which they're thankful for as they return the bikes.
"Thank God we got these back in one piece." Anthony says with a sigh of relief as he puts his back on the rack. Ian nods tiredly in agreement, and they walk into the hotel, greeted by the cool air conditioning that feels oddly welcoming after their hours being cooled by the sea breeze.
"Are you going back to Dan and Phil?" Ian asks, clicking the button to open the elevator.
"I don't know, I feel like it'd be a tad awkward if I showed up now." Anthony steps in, a sudden frown of worry on his face.
Ian laughs a little, deeper than usual due to his exhaustion. "Just stay in my room tonight, then, you can go back in the morning."
"Are you sure?" Anthony asks hesitantly. "I don't want to impose."
"You wouldn't be, I'd be glad for the company." He responds, clapping his new friend on the back as he steps out of the elevator onto their floor. It's almost painful how glad he would be, in fact, and doesn't further think of his loneliness.
They go back to Ian's room, washing up quickly and stripping down to their boxers. They settle into the bed, Anthony lying over the covers, Ian lying under. Ian turns out the lights, and both are tired enough to sleep for hours on end, but neither nod off just yet.
"I can't believe I'm lying in a bed with Ian Hecox, in a hotel in California. In nothing but our pants, for Christ's sake!" Anthony whispers into the darkness, and even as he's that tired, he still gains a huge grin.
"We're not wearing pants." Ian counters, and there's a moment of confused silence before they realize the language difference. And then both can agree, as they slip into much needed sleep, that there is no better sound than hushed and friendly giggles in the darkness.
pairings: guest starring Phan
warnings: mild language
rating: pg-13
A/N: pretty sure this'll only be four to five parts. Posting should be Wednesday and Saturday, but I posted the first chapter Thursday because I was busy and whatever.
When Ian closes his laptop and looks out the window, the sun is low in the sky, a brilliant orange contrasting the smog of the city. He rubs his eyes. He had settled into his hotel room by taking a quick shower and skipping dinner to edit a video and look over what he plans to say to the crowd tomorrow. Now that he thinks of it, he is rather hungry, and decides to go out and get a bite to eat.
Exiting his hotel room and going to the hallway, he sees a familiar face in front of the elevator, and smiles when he realizes it's the man he met a few hours previous, Anthony.
"Hey." Ian says, greeting him, and he turns and smiles. "How are you?"
"Good, thanks." He says a bit passively. "And you?"
"I'm alright. Getting a bite to eat." He shrugs.
"Oh, got a dinner date or something?" He asks, and Ian holds back a laugh.
"Me? No, my girlfriend's back in New Jersey. What about you, what are you doing out here?" The elevator beeps and the doors open up, and they board together.
"My friends and I were out looking around for awhile, which was pretty cool, but then we went back to tidy ourselves up again and then they-" He blushes and looks at the ground. "Well, it was time for me to leave."
Ian laughs, and Anthony does too, his high pitched outburst of course causing Ian to laugh even harder. He watches the man's vlogs, and the laugh has become so familiar to him that it isn't a surprise to hear.
"That's fine." Ian responds when their laughing's done. "Hey, you should come find something with me, I was gonna eat, but if you're not hungry-"
"No, I'm starving." Anthony cuts him off as the elevator stops on the ground floor. "Yeah, let's go, sounds fun."
Exiting the hotel, they find the place swarming with teenage girls, and hold back groans.
"I love the fans, mate, but I was hoping for a night without screaming and autographs before Vidcon starts tomorrow." Anthony sighs, and Ian chuckles a bit at the affectionate term 'mate.'
"Yeah, I know how you feel. Wait, look-"
He steps to the side, before any of the girls spot him. Anthony rushes after him, and he finds Ian admiring two bikes on a bike rack.
"These will work." Ian points to them, and Anthony shakes his head.
"Man, I just got to America, I don't want Obama throwing me in jail because I stole a kid's bike."
"Relax." Ian chuckles. "We'll have them back soon. Come on, they're not even chained up. If we don't take them, someone else will."
"Okay." Anthony agrees, still uncertain, and takes the black bike. Ian grabs the blue one, and they ride away from the hotel, Ian leading the way.
The air has cooled considerably since midday, when it reached temperatures higher than Anthony had ever seen in England. There is a slight wind blowing now, tousling their hair as they bike down a crowded highway.
"Follow me!" Ian yells over his shoulder to his new friend, and he nods and laughs.
They bike across town, Anthony wanting to stop and take it all in. America, it seems to him, is just like London, but everything's bigger and more lit up. Bigger roads, bigger signs, just bigger everything, all in shining LED's and flickering bulbs that could blind you if you looked too long.
As they pedal down streets, past buses, cars, and buildings, they begin to tire, but continue going, not feeling a weighted exhaustion, but rather pleasant soreness, the kind that comes with adventure. After about an hour, Ian finally slows and pulls over, Anthony following, already loyal to this stranger (who feels more like an old friend, thanks to Anthony being such a fan of his videos).
"Where are we?" Anthony asks when he catches his breath, looking around. They're on the side of a highway, full of noisy, speeding cars, a thin woods on one side of them, and some stores on the other side of the road.
"I wanted to show you the part of L.A. the tourists don't know about." Ian smiles, then walks his bike into the woods. Anthony's confused, but follows. "You have to pay at the entrance, but it's easier to just come in through here." Ian calls from ahead, and Anthony ponders this until they step out of the thicket.
They're standing on a shore, a giant pile of mud that leads to a slab of rock that's being battered by the waves. The traffic on the highway prevents people from hearing the ocean, but once they pass through the trees, all they can hear is the stir of the sea, the screeching of albatross, the hum of cicadas and crickets. It's beautiful, like a patch of Earth that everyone else forgot about.
"Wow." Anthony says, staring out into the water, salt teasing his lips. He takes a deep breath of the sea air, absorbing the smell of salt and wood and dirt.
"A friend showed me this place a long time ago." Ian comments, looking at the waves. "Now, I come every time I'm here for business or Vidcon. It's nice, right?"
"Yeah." Both of them have goofy smiles a bit too large on their faces. "Brilliant."
"Come on, leave your bike here, there's more." Ian says, and Anthony obeys without hesitation this time, feeling no harm will come to the stranger's bike while it's resting there.
They walk along the trees for several minutes in a comfortable silence, in the space that was dry dirt, not quite mud. Anthony takes ginger steps, while Ian plods comfortably along, and, after a few minutes, Ian turns around with a little smile that won't seem to leave.
"Have you ever been to the Pacific Ocean?"
"No, I've never left England." Anthony sighs, looking at the light from the moon dancing on the dark waves.
"Then don't let some mud stop you." Ian responds, and bends down, slipping off his shoes. Picking up his shoes and holding them in one hand, he walks through the mud until he reaches the large slabs of rock, rough on his bare feet.
"Bloody hell, then, why not!" Anthony yells, taking off his shoes and stepping into the cold mud. He walks to Ian's side, his feet getting splattered with cold ocean water as he reaches the rock.
"Bloody hell." Ian mocks him, and he gives him a playful shove in response. "Come on, there's still more."
"More than this?" Anthony throws out his arms, not caring if it's cliché. "I'm standing on a giant rock with my favorite Youtuber in California. In the Pacific Ocean, of all things! How could it get better than this?"
"So I'm your favorite Youtuber?" Ian yells over the roar of the surf, throwing him a cheeky grin.
"Sod off." Anthony responds with a laugh, and they continue to walk down the shore.
They walk about a mile before they see lights that don't come from the moon or the first stars, yellow ones that twinkle on the shore ahead. The large slabs of rock start to get smaller and smaller, and they've got to climb and hop over them instead of walking on horizontal surfaces. Eventually, they reach an area that's purely sand, and see the source of the lights.
It's a stand on the beach, built with thin and rotting wood, decorated with Christmas lights. The stand is piled with food and lanterns, and behind it sits a fat man in a folding chair, widdling a pipe out of a piece of driftwood. Anthony can't believe his eyes.
"Give us some of everything, and two lanterns to rent, please." Ian says to the man with a nod, and he puts down his pipe, getting out of his chair. Ian turns and smiles to Anthony, who's wide-eyed. "It's a family business." He explains in a soft tone. "His sister and brother make the food, he sells it. Best seafood in California, plus they sell the average cheap stuff, too."
"Twenty." The man behind the stand says, and Anthony's surprised to see two trays ladened with food sitting besides two lanterns.
Ian hands him the money, paying for both meals before Anthony can protest, and they begin walking further down the beach, carefully balancing their trays and lanterns. They finally sit next to some grassy dunes, Ian removing a lighter from the pocket of his shorts to light the old fashioned lanterns.
"This is so cool." Anthony exclaims, looking over the food they'd gotten. "There's lobster tail next to my candy floss."
"How does that look like floss at all?" Ian questions. "It looks more like cotton...cotton candy. America wins again!"
They laugh, and Anthony picks up his cup. "What'll we drink to?"
"America." Ian says jokingly, but Anthony nods.
"You know what, I will drink to America." He says, and they bump their plastic cups together before taking large gulps. Anthony makes a sour face.
"We're in America, Ant, you have to drink lukewarm cheap beer like the rest of us." Ian smiles, and digs into his food. Anthony, for some reason, doesn't mind when he calls him Ant, despite usually being irked when people other than Dan or Phil call him that.
They sit out for awhile, just chatting about their lives and cracking jokes. They find it surprisingly easy to talk to one another, as if they'd known each other and been friends for years. Neither is lonely or homesick, just comfortable, at peace. They eat their food, finding it all delicious, and with their lanterns, explore the beach until they exhaust themselves laughing at each other's jokes and skipping rocks on the calm waves.
It's around half past midnight when they return their lanterns to the man behind the stand, thanking him for the food and booze. They begin their long trek back to the spot they left their bikes, smiles lifting the corners of their lips and weariness pulling down on their feet. It's a nice trek back, cozy and pleasant like a warm night in a living room before Christmas.
When they get back to their bikes, they travel back to their hotel, the roads much emptier than they were before. The front of the hotel is barren of fans now, which they're thankful for as they return the bikes.
"Thank God we got these back in one piece." Anthony says with a sigh of relief as he puts his back on the rack. Ian nods tiredly in agreement, and they walk into the hotel, greeted by the cool air conditioning that feels oddly welcoming after their hours being cooled by the sea breeze.
"Are you going back to Dan and Phil?" Ian asks, clicking the button to open the elevator.
"I don't know, I feel like it'd be a tad awkward if I showed up now." Anthony steps in, a sudden frown of worry on his face.
Ian laughs a little, deeper than usual due to his exhaustion. "Just stay in my room tonight, then, you can go back in the morning."
"Are you sure?" Anthony asks hesitantly. "I don't want to impose."
"You wouldn't be, I'd be glad for the company." He responds, clapping his new friend on the back as he steps out of the elevator onto their floor. It's almost painful how glad he would be, in fact, and doesn't further think of his loneliness.
They go back to Ian's room, washing up quickly and stripping down to their boxers. They settle into the bed, Anthony lying over the covers, Ian lying under. Ian turns out the lights, and both are tired enough to sleep for hours on end, but neither nod off just yet.
"I can't believe I'm lying in a bed with Ian Hecox, in a hotel in California. In nothing but our pants, for Christ's sake!" Anthony whispers into the darkness, and even as he's that tired, he still gains a huge grin.
"We're not wearing pants." Ian counters, and there's a moment of confused silence before they realize the language difference. And then both can agree, as they slip into much needed sleep, that there is no better sound than hushed and friendly giggles in the darkness.