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Fic Masterpost

Your Forever Is All That I Need

   When Aleks came home after going to see Tiffany with a blank expression on his face, Eddie knew something was wrong. Aleks always came home really bubbly and happy after meeting with his girlfriend, so what happened that made this time so different? The couple almost never fought, and when they did, they usually made up by the time Aleks had gotten back to the house, so the chances of a fight causing this was very bleak. Not to mention the sad, practically depressed look in Aleks’s eyes came from something that was definitely more than a fight. But when he asked the younger male what was a wrong, he was ignored. He watched as his friend walked to his room, the blank expression never leaving his face. Unfortunately, the look in his eyes didn’t change either.

   Aleks felt bad for ignoring the clearly concerned voice of his friend, but he just wanted to be alone. He didn’t want to talk to or see anyone, he just wanted to wallow in his sadness and maybe drown himself in that damn Vodka he could never seem to let go of. As he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, his mind was reeling. Tiffany’s words echoed in his head, despite his efforts to mute her stupid voice. He could feel the gross, sticky, bloody pieces of his broken heart sticking to his rib cage. He could see all the dreams and fantasies in his mind becoming a hazard as their broken pieces littered it’s floor.

   But at the same time, he felt so numb. He forced himself to be numb. Real men never cried, right? That’s what he was taught growing up: if you cry, you’re a pussy. So he refused to cry, forcing himself to not think about the pain in his chest or the broken pieces in his mind. He forced himself to keep that stoic, blank look on his face. Forced himself to think he didn’t care, that he didn’t need her, but it was so fucking hard. He just wanted to scream and cry and tear up his room and burn every picture of her he owned. But that’s what girls did. Men just forced themselves to get over it.

   Eddie sat on the couch, utterly confused. Aleks always told him when he was upset. Hell, he could never shut him up when he was upset. But he was usually angry or annoyed; he never had that look in his eyes, or that blank expression. He wanted answers, but he knew he wouldn’t get a damn thing out of Aleks. His first thought was maybe Aleks had said something about it. He checked Aleks’s twitter, but there was nothing there. His second thought was maybe Tiffany had said something.

   What he didn’t expect to get from Tiffany’s twitter was a white-hot rage that fueled his entire being. She was using her twitter to bitch about Aleks. There were so many tweets just insulting Aleks. But amidst the anger, he was also confused. Why would she talk so terrible about her boyfriend like that? Not a single tweet explained why she was being such a bitch. As a last resort, he decided to check Alek’s tumblr tag, hoping that the fans understood what was going on.

   The tag was filled with consoling messages to Aleks about a break up. First Eddie was hit with shock, then pity, then more anger. Tiffany was insulting Aleks because they broke up?! Who the fuck does that?! He made his way to Aleks’s room, forcing himself not to stomp. He leaned against the doorframe, looking at Aleks on his bed, that blank expression still there. “Hey Aleks, I heard about Tiffany. I’m sorry. You gonna be okay?”

   “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine” was his response, in a flat and emotionless tone.

   Eddie opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off.

   “Leave it alone, Eddie. I’ll be fine.” Aleks tried so hard to keep his tone flat and emotionless, but that uncontrollable crack in his voice that showed up when he wanted to cry ruined it. He saw Eddie come over to his bed, feeling it dip as he layed down next to him. He turned onto his side and curled up, hoping if he ignored him, he would just go away. Much to his dismay, he felt an arm wrap around him and he was pulled closer to the other body on the bed until they were pressed together. Aleks wanted to protest, but when he opened his mouth, he was cut off by Eddie whispering to him.

   “You’re allowed to cry, Aleks. I’m here for you, man.” Those words made Aleks realize how much he just wanted someone to be there who wouldn’t make fun of him for crying, but instead let him cry and ruin their shirt with his snot and tears. He realized all he wanted to do was fucking cry while someone comforted him. He shifted on the bed and turned around, burying his face in the older man’s chest as he finally allowed the tears to fall. He clutched Eddie’s shirt as he sobbed, feeling the arm around him tighten and a hand go up to stroke his hair. They laid there for a while, Eddie holding Aleks and whispering to him while he cried into his shirt.

   When Aleks had finally calmed down, he pulled his head from Eddie’s chest, wiping the remaining wetness from his face. “S-Sorry about you-your shirt” He sniffled and wiped his nose on his own shirt sleeve. That was another thing he hated about crying - the aftermath. He hated the runny nose he got, and he hated that annoying stutter you always got after crying.

   “Don’t worry about it, I can wash it.” Eddie smiled and rubbed Aleks’s back. “How about we watch some Disney movies?”

   The suggestion earned a weak smile from Aleks. “Tha-That sounds goo-good”

   Eddie smiled “Which one do you want to watch first?”

   “Jus-Just put on whi-whichever” Eddie nodded and got up, first going to his room to change his shirt and then grabbing a random Disney movie from the shelf by Aleks’s bed. He turned on the TV, followed by the DVD player, and popped the movie in. He went back over to the bed and layed down behind Aleks, wrapping his arm around him again and pressing their bodies together. “Whi-Which one did you pi-pick?”

   “I don’t know, I didn’t pay attention.” Eddie chuckled softly and lazily stroked Aleks’s sides. “Are you feeling any better?”

   “Y-Yeah. Thanks Ed” Aleks smiled

   “No problem”

   When the starting screen for the movie came up, Eddie grabbed the remote from Aleks’s night stand and clicked play, setting it down and settling back with Aleks. They spent the rest of the night like that, Eddie staying and falling asleep with Aleks when he felt the younger boy’s breathing slow instead of getting up and leaving.

Hallucinations

As much as I make believe, you’re not really here with me.


Ian flopped down on his bed, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. This crush was getting out of hand. He could barely look at Anthony without wanting to slam him against the nearest wall or door (Or any surface at all, really) to press their lips together. Ian sighed frustratedly, closing his eyes to calm himself, only to find the image of Anthony still stuck in his mind. He couldn’t get that damn man out of his head – His beautiful brown eyes, his amazing smile, the way his hair hangs in his eyes in that carelessly sexy way, the way his clothes hug his slender frame as if they were crafted specifically for him to wear, the way his lips just look so soft and kissable…Ian shook his head furiously and opened his eyes, trying to clear all thoughts of Anthony out of his head. He turned to his side, hoping a change of position would help, but the minute his eyes landed on a certain something (more accurately, someone) standing right beside his bed, he froze.

The very man that was stuck in his every waking and sleeping moment with a force seemingly stronger than super glue was standing right in front of him.

“Anthony?” Ian whispered, his features contorting into a look of confusion. Anthony just smiled and grabbed Ian’s hand, pulling him out of the bed.

   Ian was still confused, but he allowed himself to be pulled out of bed. Anthony put his hands on Ian’s waist, and he could feel the breath being sucked right out of his lungs. Anthony’s hands felt so nice and amazing on his waist, until Ian suddenly realized it barely felt like they were there at all. In fact, he had to glance down at the connection to make sure it was actually happening, because he honestly felt like he’d imagined the hands snaking down to his waist. To his great relief, they were there, resting right were his jeans ended and his shirt began.

   Suddenly, there was music. Slow, beautiful music. His confusion only deepened. There was no sound system in his room. A quick glance around the room confirmed that the music had no place of origin. There were no speakers in his room, and his computer was turned off. He turned back to Anthony, giving him another confused look. He just smiled again, grabbing Ian’s arms and placing them around his neck before placing his hands back on Ian’s hips.

   Ian decided he’d just go with what was happening, because he liked it quite a lot. He stepped closer to Anthony, his forehead automatically going to rest on the space where Anthony’s neck and shoulder met. He sighed contently and closed his eyes, not aware of the fact that it seemed like Anthony wasn’t even breathing. He focused on the fact that the thing he’d dreamed about the most was happening to him and he couldn’t think of anything at all in the world that was better than this feeling. There aren’t any words to describe how he was feeling. Feeling like he was floating would be a massive understatement. It felt like every dream he’d ever had about Anthony that wasn’t a nightmare was coming true all at once. He felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria, the happiest he’d ever felt in his entire life. Despite the large flurry of positive emotions he seemed to possess, he was calm and composed just because he was in Anthony’s arms and they were pressed close together and this is all he could ever ask for.

Much to Ian’s disappointment, the music started to fade, the song ending. He held back a sigh of discontent and started to pull away, only to be held in place by Anthony after barely pulling away at all. He looked up in confusion, only to be met, of course, with that cute smile that didn’t seem to fade away at all. He smiled back, staring into those endless brown eyes. He suddenly realized Anthony’s face was leaning closer to his and he felt his heart skip three beats before speeding up to three times its normal beats per minute. He swallowed nervously and started leaning forward as well. As their faces drew closer, he could feel the taller male’s breath fanning over his lips. A slight shiver ran down his spine, their lips nearly connected. Just a little closer. He thought. You’re almos-

There was a sudden, loud banging coming from his door, followed by a familiar voice calling his name. Anthony? But how could he be calling his name through the door, he was right-

When Ian turned back to who he thought still had his arms around him, he found that he had disappeared.

The sudden realization of what was happening hit Ian full force in the chest, as if someone with perfect aim had thrown a dagger right into the middle of his heart.

It was all just a daydream. A hallucination. His imagination had conjured up the image of his deepest affection and tricked him with it. He want to scream and cry and throw things. He wanted to curl up into a ball and sob until he died from the lack of water in his body. He felt as if his own mind had turned itself into a human, ripped his heart straight from his chest and stomped on it, stabbed it, spit on it, and any other painful thing he could ever imagine. He felt betrayed from his entire being.

And yet, at the same time, he felt numb. And indifferent. In the back of his mind, there sat a person, tied to a chair with duct tape over his mouth. That was his reason, his anxiety, his truth. The very thing that tried to warn him, tell him his mind was playing the cruelest trick it possibly could on him. The thing that told him he would get hurt, to just close his eyes before he was betrayed. And he’d beat the poor thing up and told it to shut the fuck up.

There was another, louder bang from the door and a worried “Ian?” floated into the room. He sighed and did the thing he’d seemed to get better and better at through the years. He put on that mask that hid every single affectionate emotion he’d ever harbored for Anthony, along with the depressed emotions that came with it, the ones that told him it would never happen. This mask only allowed the happy emotions to show through. The sometimes fake ones.

He opened the door, met with a relieved face from Anthony. “Thank god, I thought you’d died in there or something”

If by in there you mean inside of me, than yeah, I died die more than a little on the inside. “Nah man, I just didn’t hear you at first. Was kind of dozing off. You need something?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to go grab some pizza or something.”

Ian smiled “Of course, man! I love pizza”

Anthony grinned that stupid ass grin that Ian hated but loved at the same time. The one that lit up his whole face without even trying, as if there was little lights in his face that turned on as soon as the corners of his perfect damn mouth met his ears. “Awesome! Let’s go!”

As much as Ian tried to repress these damn feelings, he knew that no matter how hard he tried, as soon as he saw that stupid ass grin on that perfect ass face on that stupid head attached to that perfect ass body, all the affection he held for that one perfect man came flowing back in an almost drowning tsunami-like force.

He was barely keeping his head up in this red sea of affection, and he hated it.

But there was nothing that man could do that would make this damn affection go away.

Update!

So I know I've been kind of slacking with posting and I'm sorry but I have a really important update.

Before you get too scared to read I just want to see I'm not gonna say I'm leaving the fandom and I'm not gonna say I'm leaving the slash world. I am still very much a part of both of those things.

Anyway, now for the update!

Most of this time I haven't been posting because with my school work and chores, by the time I get on to the computer all I want to do is watch shit. I don't want to write, I don't want to read, the only thing I'm not too lazy to do is listen and watch. So that's what I do. But more recently, I just haven't been feeling well enough to it. It's not that I've been sick, it's that I haven't been emotionally feeling well. I have so much stress from school, my ex boyfriend is being a dick about my new girlfriend, and my dad's roommate is making me want to self-harm and sometimes kill myself for the first time since in three years. The later has only been once, but it's been there. The formal, though, has been there a lot. The urge to cut myself/scratch myself has been very prominent in my mind and while I've found other methods to let my emotions out and i've never self-harmed in my life, it's still very scary and unsettling to me that it's there. And while most people use this emotion to influence their writing, it's very hard for me because with this urge comes depression, and while others use that as fuel too, there's too much of it for me. I guess you could say that gas can is overflowing for me at times and it's just too hard to write.

But here comes the good news. In nine days, I'm out of school and for the first two or three weeks of summer I'll be out of the house and staying with a friend. I can't guaruntee I'll have the time/motivation/urge/want to write, but I also can't guaruntee that I won't squeeze out a few things. After I'm done with my friend's house, I'll be staying with my mom, and my mom is amazing, so there's no worry of not being emotionally well enough to write. Though it seems like a long way away, I promise you updates and new fics will appear sooner than you know it.

A heavy smell of weed clung to the air in Anthony’s bathroom despite the fan’s efforts to suck  it up. Two fully smoked joints sat in the ashy toilet water, waiting to be flushed when the two boys were done. The older teenager blew the smoke from his hit in his friend’s face, giggling when Ian swatted at him. “What’s your problem?”

   “You’re hogging all the weed!” he whined, hands trying to snatch the joint from the older (and taller) boy’s hands. The weed was just out of his reach as Anthony teased him with it, moving it to where Ian could reach it and then moving it back out of his reach. “C’mon, you douche!” He chuckled and finally surrendered the half-smoked joint to the younger boy.

   Ian grinned triumphantly and put the joint to his lips, taking a deep breath. His mouth formed a circle as he puffed the smoke out in a perfect ring. When Anthony reached for the joint, Ian pulled it out of his reach. “I get the rest of it, weed hog!” Before Anthony could protest or snatch the joint from him, Ian opened the door and ran.

   “No, don’t smoke it in my room! It’s harder to get the smell out!” Ian laughed and started to take a second hit, squeaking when a heavy weight suddenly crashed into him, sending him to the floor. The joint was taken from his hand. He wriggled, trying to throw the weight off his back.

   “Get off of me, you’re fucking heavy!”

   Anthony chuckled “You like me on top of you and you know it!”

   Ian blushed “G-Get off me, you pervert!” Anthony laughed and stood up, Ian sighing in relief when the weight was lifted. He pulled himself to his feet, his face still pink. As he stood up, his eyes fell on the Xbox sitting in front of Anthony’s TV. The sight erased all previous thoughts from his mind, replaced only with “We should play video games!”

   Anthony grinned widely “That’s a great idea!”

   “...But we should finish that joint first”

   Anthony pretended to think for a moment before saying “Nah, video games sound so much better right now.” Ian whined and made a grab for the joint. The older held it out of Ian’s reach and ran toward the bathroom, quickly flushing the joint down the toilet with the rest.

   “You asshole!” Anthony laughed and stepped back into his room. He grabbed the controllers from the ground, tossing them both on the bed. He knelt down and bent over, pressing the power button and pushing back on his toes. Turning to Ian, a look of confusion crossed his face as he noticed his friend’s face was red. “Dude, you okay?” When Ian nodded, Anthony just shrugged it off. “What game do you wanna play?”

   “Mortal Combat!”

   “You like that game way too much.” He muttered, grabbing the Mortal Combat case and taking out the disk. He quickly put it in the console and closed the disk tray, pushing himself to his feet and flopping onto his bed next to Ian. “I’m gonna kick your ass!”

   “You wish! I’m totally going to win!”

   “Go ahead and believe that if it boosts your confidence.”

   “You’re a douche” Ian shoved Anthony playfully. The two boys laughed and turned their attention to the game when the opening music filled the room. Anthony pressed start and selected the game mode, both boys selecting characters when the selection screen came up.

   Partway through the game, Anthony suddenly felt like he hadn’t eaten in days. He paused the game, ignoring Ian’s annoyed whine as he looked over at the boy next to him. “Dude, I’m starving”

   Ian’s stomach seemed to reply for him as a growl resonated from that general area. Both boys giggled at the noise. “I am too. Do you have any food?”

   “There should be a bag of cheetos in the kitchen pantry. Can you go get them?”

   “I’m too lazy! Why don’t you do it?”

   Anthony kicked Ian with the intention of kicking him off the bed, but it seemed to barely move him. “Because you need to get off your lazy ass and do things every once in awhile!”

   Ian sighed overdramatically and got up. “Fine!” He stomped out of the room, groaning the whole way.

   Anthony leaned to the side to watch Ian leave. When he saw Ian disappear around the corner, he quickly turned back to the TV and unpaused the game. Mashing the buttons on the controller to be as quick as possible, Anthony hurriedly killed Ian’s character. Hearing returning footsteps in the hallway, he quickly re-paused the game and sat back just as Ian stepped into the room.

   “Got the cheetos!” Ian tossed the bag to Anthony, who caught it between both hands. “Ready for me to kick your ass?”

   Anthony snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. “Sure, I can’t wait to see you win”

   Ian didn’t seem to notice his obvious struggle, as he jumped on the bed next to Anthony, grabbing his controler. “Come on, unpause it!” Still trying to conceal his laughter, Anthony quickly obeyed, pressing the start button on his controller.

   The look on Ian’s face was priceless. He went from excited to confused to horrified as the words “Player one wins” flashed on the screen. “Wha...What the fuck happened?!” Anthony couldn’t hold it in anymore. He burst into laughter, clutching his stomach and falling over on his side.

   Ian’s eyes snapped to the laughing boy, horrible realization twisting his face. “you did this! you little fucker!” This only made Anthony laugh harder, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “You think this is funny, you little shit?!” Somehow, Anthony managed to nod. His eyes were squeezed shut and his entire body shook with laughter.

   Ian growled and tackled Anthony. “It’s not funny!” By then, Anthony’s laughter had faded enough for him to protest.

   “It was so funny! You should’ve seen your face! Or, should I say, faces!”

   “It was not funny! You’re an asshole!”

   “It was funny!”

   “Was not!”

   “Was too~”

   “Not!”

   “Too~”

   Ian growled “You’re a fucking dick!”

   “That’s not what your mom said last night!” Anthony smirked.

   “Oh, you little douche!”

   “What are you gonna do, slap me?” Anthony chuckled, his head snapping to the side as he felt Ian’s hand collide with his cheek. He laughed “Dude, you slap like a bitch”

   “Fuck you!”

   “Is that why you’re in this position?” Anthony raised an eyebrow, smirking.

   Ian blushed slightly as he realized he was on top of Anthony, a leg on either side of his body and his wrists pinned to the bed. “U-Um, s-sorry, I-I’ll-” He was abruptly cut off as Anthony’s lips suddenly made contact with his. For a moment, he froze, his eyes wide and lips still. Soon, he melted into the kiss, his lips moving in perfect sync with Anthony’s.

   When the two boys pulled apart, they were both pink faced and out of breath. They stared at each other, their eyes slightly wide. The room stayed silent until Anthony spoke when he’d caught his breath. “Sorry, I’ve uh...wanted to do that for a while”

   “This..this is you talking, right? Not the weed?”

   Anthony chuckled. If it wasn’t for the copious amount of weed clouding his thoughts, he might not of even said it. “Without the weed, I probably wouldn’t have even kissed you in the first place, but yeah, I mean it.”

   Ian smiled. “I’ve wanted to that for a while too.”

   Anthony smiled widely “Want to make out?”

   Ian grinned “Do I?” Anthony giggled and reconnected their lips, crawling into Ian’s lap. The two boys spent the rest of the night alternating between making out and stuffing their faces with cheetos. Neither could say they had a complaint.

This is Ianthony. If you do not like the pairing please do not continue reading and return to your previous activities. I do not appreciate comments containing foul language and insults pertaining to my work. No one is forcing you to read this unless they are holding a gun to your head, in which case you still do not need to leave immature and unnecessary comments. So please, I'm asking nicely, do not continue reading and do not leave negative comments if you do not enjoy homosexual fanfiction about Ian Hecox and Anthony Padilla.

  Anthony stared at his computer screen blankly, the moving images of him and Ian unfocused as his eyes blurred with sleep. He felt someone shake him and he jolted, looking up to see the screen now blocked by a torso. His eyes traveled up to the person’s face and he realized it was Ian. “Oh, hey.” His voice was slurred with exhaustion.

   He heard Ian chuckled lightly. “Dude, you’re falling asleep at at the computer. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

   “Wha....No, I can’t. I have to finish editing” He tried to shove Ian out of the way.

   “You can barely talk or move your arms. You need to come to bed. You can finish tomorrow.”

   “No...I need...to finish...now” His head fell to the side and his eyes closed for a second, but then he suddenly jolted and sat up, trying to push Ian again.

   Ian sighed. “Are you gonna get up or am I going to have to carry you to bed?”

   Anthony looked up at Ian, widening his eyes and puffing out his lower lip. “I’ll go to bed if you carry me!”

   Ian chuckled and shook his head “Lazy ass”

   “Hush, you know you love carrying me.”

   Ian hooked an arm under Anthony’s legs and the other behind his back. He lifted him up, groaning fakely. “I hate carrying you! You’re so fucking heavy!”

   Anthony circled his arms around Ian’s neck, raising an eyebrow “You calling me fat, Hecox?”

   Ian laughed “Yes, Anthony, I’m calling the skinniest person I’ve ever seen fat”

   Anthony chuckled and shoved Ian’s shoulder weakly “You douche”

   Ian chuckled and set Anthony on their bed when they reached their room. He groaned overdramatically and stretched his arms. “You’re too damn heavy!”

   “Fuck you, Hecox.” Anthony tried to kick him, but failed miserably.

   “Anytime, sexy” Ian wiggled his eyebrows, smirking.

   “See, you love being my bitch!” Ian giggled and shook his head, crawling into the bed. Anthony immediately rolled over and wrapped an arm around Ian, pressing his chest to Ian’s back. Ian hummed and placed his arm on top of Anthony’s. “I love you” he murmured sleepily.

   “I love you too” Anthony murmured, already half-asleep. Ian smiled and let his eyes drift closed.


Ian woke up to someone shaking his shoulder. He groaned and rolled over. “No...Thirty more minutes...” The person only started shaking harder and Ian groaned. “Alright, Alright, I’m up! The fuck do you want?!” he rubbed his head as he sat up, groaning tiredly.

   “Nothing, I just wanted to wake you up to mess with you and to cuddle some more.” He recognized the voice to be Anthony’s and he looked over to see his boyfriend grinning at him.

He glared at him. “Did you really wake me up to cuddle?” Anthony nodded. “You fucking douche! I hate you!” He layed back down and rolled over so his back was facing Anthony.

Anthony chuckled and wrapped an arm around Ian “You know you love me” Ian groaned and tried to pull away from him, but he eventually gave in. “Yeah, I kind of do”

   “Kind of?! That’s all I get?” Anthony filled his voice with mock offense.

   Ian giggled “Okay, I love you a lot”

   “Yeah, you better” Ian just giggled and snuggled back against Anthony. He hummed in content when he felt Anthony’s lips on his shoulder. “Hmmm, that feels nice.” the older’s lips stretched into a smile on the younger’s skin. “You love kissing me too much” Ian teased

   “You taste good!” Anthony said in defence.

   Ian giggled “I taste good?”

   Anthony nodded “But, you know, if you don’t like me kissing you...” Anthony started moving his mouth away from Ian’s shoulder.

   “Hey, I never said that!” Anthony chuckled and moved back to kissing Ian’s shoulder gently. Ian hummed softly in content and closed his eyes, humming softly.

   “Are you humming?”

   “Um..Maybe?”   

   Anthony chuckled “Dude, that’s so gay”

   “So are you!”

   Anthony gasped “How dare you say such a thing!”

   Ian laughed “Well, you are gay!”

   “So are you!”

   “Yeah, so?”

   Anthony shoved Ian’s shoulder “You’re a douche!”

   “You’re a douche puncher.”

   “Meany”

   “Jerk”

   Anthony chuckled and turned Ian around in his arms, kissing him softly. Ian smiled against his boyfriend’s lips and kissed back. When the two pulled apart, Ian murmured “I love you”

   “I love you too” Anthony grinned.

   “I’m starving. I’m going to go make breakfast.” Ian got up and walked to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair and yawning.

   “I’m helping you!” Anthony got up and rushed after him.

   The two boys tried to make pancakes, but by the time they were done there was pancake batter all over the floor and in their hair, the pancakes were burned, and the smoke alarm was going off.

   “Aaaah, turn it off!” Ian yelled, his hands over his ears.

   “I’m trying!” Anthony yelled back, standing on a chair and finally managing to disconnect the smoke alarm. They both coughed and waved their hands in front of their faces. “That didn’t work out too well.”

   “No, definitely not.” The younger man groaned. “Let’s go take a shower, there’s batter all over me.” The older nodded and they made their way to the bathroom, laughing. Their attempt at making breakfast may have turned into a catastrophe, but at least they had each other, right? Ian thought maybe they could go get some breakfast somewhere after their shower.

30 Day OTP Challenge Masterpost

30 Day OTP Challenge
Pairings: Ian/Anthony
Warnings: None
Summary: a 30 Day OTP challenge
|One| |Two| |Three| |Four| |Five| |Six| |Seven| |Eight| |Nine| |Ten| |Eleven| |Twelve| |Thirteen| |Fourteen|
|Fifteen| |Sixteen| |Seventeen| |Eighteen| |Nineteen| |Twenty| |Twenty-one| |Twenty-Two| |Twenty-Three|
|Twenty-Four| |Twenty-Five| |Twenty-Six| |Twenty-Seven| |Twenty-Eight| |Twenty-Nine| |Thirty|

   Ian paced back and forth in front of his bed, occasionally running a shaking hand through his hair nervously. Nearly his entire body was shaking from the immense amount of nervousness coursing throughout his body like venom from a snake bite.

   “Ian, calm down, you’re going to ruin your look!”

   Ian stopped abruptly, spinning on his heels to face Ras, who was sitting on the foot of Ian’s bed with an annoyed expression. “Calm down?! Ras, I really like him! What if I mess something up? What if I embarrass myself? What if I-”

   “Ian, you’ll do fine! You’re just going to the movies!”

   “What if he doesn’t like me? Oh my god, I bet he doesn’t. He probably thinks I’m the worst-”

   “Stop it, Ian! I know for a fact Anthony’s head-over-heels for you!”

   Ian’s facial expression changed from worried to curious. “Really?”

   “Ian, I’m his best friend. I think I know.”

   A smiled tugged at the corner of Ian’s lips and a soft chuckle brushed past them. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be so worried. He won’t be able to resist my good looks”

   Ras shook his head, chuckling softly. “Well, you’re not that good looking.”

   “Hey!” Ian shoved Ras playfully, both of them laughing.

   “Alright, loverboy, go fix your hair since you’ve messed it all up.”

   “Loverboy?” Ian raised an eyebrow. Ras just shrugged and Ian turned to his mirror, messing with his hair to get it back into place. He jumped when he heard the doorbell. “He’s here!” he squeaked, his eyes wide as he froze in place. Ras chuckled and gave Ian a shove to move him from his frozen position. He stumbled down the stairs, trying to keep his pounding heart from bursting through his chest.

   Anthony smiled warmly at him when he opened the door. Ian returned the smile, trying to subtly check Anthony out. “Ready to go?” Ian heard Anthony ask as his eyes traveled from Anthony’s stomach to his chest (which the tight v-neck he wore clearly showed off with no room for imagination). He nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind him once he yelled at Ras not to raid his kitchen while he was out.

   Anthony smiled at Ian again, his eyes sweeping over Ian’s body. (He thought Ian wouldn’t notice, but the action sent Ian’s heart into an acrobatic frenzy in his chest). Ian returned the smile and the two boys headed to Anthony’s car.

   Once they arrived at the movie theatre, Ian was shaking again, but for a different reason. The movie he and Anthony were seeing was a horror movie. Ian hated horror movies. They all scared the shit out of him, and they always gave him nightmares. And now, he was seeing one with a boy he had a giant crush on, who he definitely didn’t want to witness him pissing his pants.

   Ian tried to calm his nerves as he followed Anthony to the entrance. His heart fluttered in his chest when Anthony held the door open for him. He smiled at him, his face a slight tinge of pink. He stepped in and headed to the concession counter.

   Once the two boys, or more specifically, Anthony, paid for their candy, drinks, and popcorn, they made their way to the theatre their movie was playing in. Ian swallowed and walked in, biting his bottom lip, hoping the shaking of his hands was unnoticeable.

   Anthony picked two seats for them near the back of the theatre. Once they sat down and his hands were no longer full, Ian quickly silenced his phone so the inevitable bombardment of text messages from Ras bothering him about the status of the date wouldn’t send his phone into a noisy frenzy during the film. He leaned back in his seat, his stomach twisting into knots of fear when the lights dimmed and the before-movie previews started. Most of them were for various horror movies. Thankfully, they all left out the most terrifying scenes. He didn’t want to piss himself before the actually movie even started.

   Once the movie started, Ian sunk down in his seat, wishing he had told Anthony he’d rather see something else. But Anthony had really wanted to see this movie, and Ian couldn’t say no to his pleading puppy-dog eyes. He’d always had a soft spot for Anthony’s face (Not to mention every other part of Anthony’s body. Especially those hands....).

   Ian started shaking, looking anywhere but the screen. He tried to ignore the noises coming from the film, looking all around the theatre. When his eyes somehow traveled over to Anthony, he saw a worried and questioning look on his face.

   “I hate horror movies” Ian whispered in explanation. Anthony mouthed ‘oh’ and smiled slightly. Ian’s heart skipped a beat in his chest when he felt Anthony grab his hand from where it was resting on the armrest and lace their fingers together.

   “Better?” Ian nodded, his face heating up and Anthony smiled, turning his attention back to the movie.

   Ian,  however, was distracted by the fact that he was holding hands with Anthony. Anthony’s hand was warm and soft in his own and it felt amazing. What made it even better was it was Anthony’s hand.

   Before Ian knew it, the movie was over. For most of the movie, Ian had been lost in his thoughts of Anthony that he never even noticed the movie. He stood up with Anthony, stretching, feeling a little disappointed when their hands untangled. He wasn’t disappointed for long, however, because as they left the theatre room, he felt Anthony grab his hand again. He blushed as their fingers intertwined. He looked over at him with a questioning look.

   Anthony chuckled “You’re so cute when you blush” Ian felt his face grow increasingly warmer and he knew his blush was darkening. A large smile split Anthony’s face at the increase in red of Ian’s cheeks. The two pushed open the doors that led to the parking lot, walking to Anthony’s car.

   Once they returned to Ian’s house, the two boys stepped out and walked to the house. Ian turned to Anthony, his face a shade of pink. He seemed to be a blushing a lot that day. “You really don’t have to walk me to my door.”

   Anthony smiled and shook his head “Nah, it’s not a problem” Ian smiled widely. He stepped onto the front porch, turning to face Anthony. As he opened his mouth to thank him, Anthony quickly pecked Ian’s lips. Ian froze, his eyes wide and his face completely flushed.

   Anthony chuckled “I’ll call you.” Without waiting for Ian’s reaction to break through his ice block, Anthony turned and left.

   By the time Ian had finally thawed himself, Anthony had already pulled out of his driveway. He sighed and watched him leave before entering his house, almost running into Ras. “Christ, let me into my own house, will ya?” He smacked Ras upside the head playfully before chuckling and pushing him out of the way, stepping in enough to close his door. Immediately after the door was closed, he was bombarded with questions.

   “Was it great?”

   “I didn’t really pay attention to the movie”

   “Why not? Were you too distracted by his sexyness?”

   Ian smiled slightly, the feeling of Anthony’s hand in his still lingering. “Sure, let’s go with that”

   Ras grinned “You’re blushing. Oh my gosh, did he kiss you?!”

   Ian felt his face heat up and he cleared his throat “That...That is none of your business” He turned and walked to his room, a dreamy smile on his face as he flopped onto his bed. When Ras walked in with a second barrage of questions, Ian rolled on his side so his back was facing him and ignored him, lost in thoughts of the wonderful boy who’d been the first to kiss him.

Game of the Dead Chapter 3

Ian’s arm fell to his side once his knife hit the bull’s-eye of the target in the portion of the training room used for knife throwing. He looked around, noticing some of the tributes staring, impressed at the seven knives Ian had thrown, all of them buried in the small red circle in the middle of the target. Ian panted and rolled his shoulders backwards and forwards to relax them. He cracked his neck and retrieved the knives, stepping back to let Melanie practice.

Ian went to the weapon holder by the knife throwing station to put up his knives. When he reached up to place the last one in its spot, his hand brushed against another tribute’s. He yanked his hand away, turning his head to the side to see who the hand belonged to. A light pink tinged his cheeks as his eyes fell upon the district twelve boy. “O-Oh, um, sorry.” Ian mumbled.

The boy smiled “Oh no, you’re fine.”

Ian returned the smile weakly, ignoring the fact that the boy’s smile was too perfect to be humanly possible and would put the sun to shame with it’s brightness, and reached up once again and slipped the knife into its spot. He turned to the boy, sticking out his hand. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Ian.”

The boy grabbed Ian’s hand and shook it “I’m Anthony.”

Ian reluctantly released Anthony’s hand “Nice to meet you, Anthony.”

“Nice to meet you too, Ian. You’re really good at throwing knives. Have you had any practice?”

Ian thought for a moment, planning out his next words carefully. Did he want to reveal his secret hunting life to this boy? He could easily be overheard by one of the adults in the training center, and then he’d end up either without a head or without a tongue. He shrugged “Guess I’m just a natural”

Anthony raised an eyebrow “Wow. So you’ve never used a throwing knife before?” His tone suggested he didn’t quite believe Ian.

Ian shook his head, trying to ignore how the disbelieving the boy sounded. “Don’t really have much use for them in the District eleven.”

“I don’t think there’s much use for them in any district besides the Career Districts.”

“Yeah, that’s true”

“Are you good at anything besides throwing knives?”

“I’m pretty good with a bow and arrow” Ian immediately regretted the words, expecting Anthony to ask how he knew he was good.

However, the boy didn’t seem to find the words suspicious in the least, or if he did, he chose not to point it out. “Really?” Anthony turned to look at the training station used for shooting arrows, finding it empty. “Wanna show me?”

Ian raised an eyebrow “You want to see me practice?”

Anthony nodded “I want to see if you’d be a worthy ally”

Ian fought the grin that tried to creep up on his face. The boy was considering him as an ally. He fought against the giddy feeling that spread through him. “Prepare to be impressed” He sauntered over to the station in a somewhat cocky manner and retrieved a bow from the weapon holder as well as a quiver. “Wow, these things are fucking nice” He muttered as he admired the silver weapon, his eyes wide in awe.

“Are you gonna show me something or are you gonna flirt with inanimate objects?”

Ian’s face flushed and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, these things are just really nice.” Without another word he slung the quiver across his back and held the bow in his hands. He stepped to the shooting range and loaded the bow, pulling the string back and aiming for the head of the first target. He let go and watched the arrow fly, the tip burying itself into the middle of the painted target. He continued to shoot multiple targets until the quiver was empty.

“Wow” He heard Anthony’s voice behind him. He turned around, grinning when he saw the boy staring behind him at the targets, a look of pure awe painting his perfect features. Every arrow that had been shot had either buried itself in the middle of the target or really damn close to it. “How are you such an amazing shot?”

Ian shrugged “Like I said, I guess I’m just a natural” He saw disbelieve flash in the boy’s eyes, but it soon disappeared and he turned to Ian with a smile.

“You’re so lucky. I wish I was as good as that.” Ian searched the boy’s face for any sign of envy, but all he found was utter awe. He felt a million tiny little butterflies flap their wings in his stomach because this utterly perfect boy was impressed with him when he was far from perfect.

“I could teach you.” Ian smiled at the thought of teaching this perfect boy how to shoot. He fought off the thoughts of exactly how he could teach him, a light blush creeping up his cheeks.

Anthony seemed to ponder the idea for a moment before nodding “You could. Wanna be allies?” This time Ian allowed the grin to invade his face and he shook Anthony’s now outstretched hand as he nodded. The boy grinned as well “Great”

Ian suddenly remembered something and frowned “Could the girl from my district be included in this?”

Anthony flashed Ian an incredulous look. “Well, of course! Did you really expect me to leave her out?” Ian sighed with relief because yeah, he kind of did. Most people who requested to be allies with kids from other districts decide to leave their partners out. But this guy was different, apparently. Just another reason to add to the list that this boy was perfect.

Ian smiled at him gratefully “Thanks. You should meet her, so she’s not a stranger when the games roll around”

“Call her over, then” Ian quickly scanned the training room for his friend, spotting her putting away her throwing knives. He went over to her, explaining their new ally arrangements with Anthony, then motioned for her to follow him so she could meet the boy. She followed him and smiled at Anthony when they reached the boy.

Anthony smiled back and the two shook hands. As they started talking, Ian let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. He didn’t think Anthony would really like Melanie, but the two seemed to get along pretty well. As the two were talking, Ian’s eyes aimlessly scanned the room. His eyes made contact with a group of career tributes who were staring at him. From his position, he couldn’t tell if they were glaring at him or not. What he could tell, though, was that they definitely didn’t like him. The thought left a bitter, almost poisonous taste in his mouth. It was not a good idea to be on the bad side of the career tributes.

   Ian felt his heart start to pound as the fear spread through his body like deadly venom, images of different ways the career tributes could murder him. In his mind’s eye he saw himself lying in a pool of his own blood; with his head cut off; with multiple arrows lodged in his body, with his head smashed; with his body blown to pieces; with-

   “Ian?” he was yanked sharply from his thoughts and his eyes darted to look at his two friends, one new and one old, next to him. “You okay? You look paler than usual.”

   “Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine” A look of concern flashed on both of the teens faces, but Ian just waved them off. “Really, I’m fine. Just got lost in my own thoughts for a few minutes”

   “What were you thinking about? You look like you just saw the devil’s dick or something”

   Ian couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the statement. He clutched his stomach as he laughed “Th-The devil’s dick?” He continued to laugh for a couple minutes before wiping away tears. He looked up to see a very annoyed Melanie and amused Anthony.

   “You never answered my question”

   “I don’t even remember now” Ian lied. “So, the devil’s dick is apparently terrifying?”

   “Shut up!” Melanie muttered, glaring at Ian. Ian heard Anthony chuckled beside him and he couldn’t stop the small smile that stretched his lips. Even his tiny chuckle was fucking adorable.

   Melanie seemed to notice the smile and she raised an eyebrow at Ian, smirking. Her eyes darted between the two boys, making kissy faces. Ian glared at her and slapped her on the shoulder, earning a scoff and feigned look of offence from Melanie. He looked up to see if Anthony had noticed the exchange, but he seemed to be staring at something somewhere in the training room. Ian and Melanie followed his gaze to the same group of career tributes Ian had caught staring at him.

   “I think they’re glaring at us” Anthony said, his tone full of worry.

   “Shit” Melanie muttered under her breath “That’s not a good sign”

   “They’re probably just mad because we have more skills than they do.” Ian knew he shouldn’t be joking, but come on, an attempt to lighten the mood wouldn’t hurt anyone. Anthony chuckled at Ian’s words, but Melanie flashed him a serious glare.

   “Ian, this isn’t something we should joke about. This is serious shit. They could murder us easily”

   “So could we” Anthony butted in. “Well, at least Ian can. I’m not a very good shot with anything, and I haven’t seen you practice.”

   “She’s really good” Ian said. “At least at throwing knives.”

   Melanie nodded “Yeah, you’re right Anthony. But, we still should at least be wary of them.” Both boys made a sound of agreement and nodded their heads. “For now, let’s just observe them so we know exactly what we’re up against.”


   Ian entered the dining car after his shower, seeing everyone else was waiting for him. He smiled sheepishly and mouthed a ‘Sorry’ before taking his seat between Melanie and Emily, right across from Ras, who greeted him with a warm smile. “How did training go today?”

   “Pretty good.” Ian piled his plate with food, shoving a large bite in his mouth. “Made a new ally” He said once he’d swallowed.

   Ras raised an eyebrow, an impressed look crossing his face. “Really? With who?”

   “The district eleven boy”

   Ras smirked “Oh, you mean the one you seem to fancy?”

   Ian choked on his mouthful of food, his eyes wide. Melanie slapped him hard on the back, glaring at Ras. When Ian finally composed himself he took a sip of water and tried to glare at Ras, but he only looked stupid with his flushed face. “I-I do not fancy him!”

   “Mhm, that’s why his outfit gave you a boner” Ian’s eyes widened even more and he spluttered, the color of his face cutting tomatoes from their jobs. Ras only laughed at the look on his face, and Melanie soon joined in. Emily just stared at them, trying not to laugh, her amusement clear on her face.

   “I hate all of you” Ian muttered, shoving another forkful of food in his mouth. He fisted his jeans with his other hand to keep from flipping everyone around him off. The group only chuckled and went back to eating, Melanie and Ras smirking at him while Ian just glared back.

   Ian cursed under his breath when Melanie said “And the career tributes didn’t seem to be too happy with us.” He glared at her, earning a confused look from Melanie. He looked up to see Ras was frozen with his fork between his lips, his eyes wide. He quickly swallowed his food before talking.

   “The career tributes what?!

   Both teens flinched at Ras’ tone which clearly conveyed he wasn’t too happy with them either. “They don’t like us” Ian squeaked quietly. “They were glaring at us.”

   Ras shook his head, a look of worry tainting his features. “Look, just be careful, alright? Being on their bad side is not good at all.” The two just nodded and went back to their food, their minds filled with worrisome images of the career tributes.


   When Ian lay in bed later that night, he hated to admit that Ras and Melanie were right. He couldn’t get Anthony out of his mind. He should be worried about what would happen with him and the career tributes, but all he could think about was that damn boy. All he could think about was his damn perfect everything. His mind continued to drift off to dirtier thoughts of the boy and he sighed frustratedly, trying to push them out of his head. He was trying to go to sleep for fuck’s sake, not daydream about dirty sex with a boy he barely knew. He rolled over on his side, cursing under his breath and trying to clear his thoughts of the frustratingly perfect boy from district eleven. When his thoughts finally cleared he sighed with relief and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

Time

                (Ian’s POV)
                Time.
                That’s all I think about lately; time and you.
                All of my recent thoughts are revolved around time – Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks, Months, Years.
                Minutes.
                Sometimes I count the minutes since the last time I had seen your beautiful, angelic face. Since I’ve seen you’re wonderful tan skin, and you’re sexy brown eyes. Since I’ve seen the sexy way your hair hangs in your face, or the way your jeans hug your slender frame perfectly. Since I’ve gazed longingly at your soft lips, wishing I could kiss you and loving the way your beautiful eyes light up when you smile with those perfect lips.
                Hours.
                Other times, I’ve counted the hours I’ve spent wondering when I’d tell you how I feel, wondering if you’d feel the same. I’ve come up with countless scenes in my head -You saying you feel the same way about me, hugging me before pulling me in for a slow, passionate first kiss; You rejecting me, saying I was filthy and disgusting, ending our friendship, kicking me out of the house. Sometimes I spend the hours wondering if someday you would surprise me, telling me that you had feelings for me, causing my heart to pound and my mind to be overwhelmed with joy; how I would smile brightly if you said you loved me, pressing my lips lightly to yours, soft at first, but growing more passionate as pent-up emotion flowed through my entire body, taking control of my senses.
                Days.
                And then there’s the days I sit in my room, wondering what it would be like if you moved away. Not just out of the house, but out of the state. What it would be like if Smosh just ended. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t be able to function properly.           I’d just sit in your old room all day, curling up in your bed and sobbing as the slowly fading scent of your cologne filled my nostrils as I clung tightly to your blanket (as it would be the last thing I’d have left of you.), causing all these happy memories of you and I to fill my brain and cause the tears to fall faster. I’d never leave that room.
It would get to the point where I would just lose myself in mindless fantasies where you rush back home, telling me how moving away was the biggest mistake of your life, and how you love me so much and I’ll tell you that I missed you and that goddammit Anthony, it’s about damn time, do you realize how long I’ve been waiting for you? It would get so bad that all our friends would just give up, after trying to contact you time after time after time, but you just won’t answer, and they’ll cry and ask why you won’t answer, but you’re too busy with your girlfriend to notice Ras is trying to reach you so he doesn’t lose another one of his friends. But by the time you’ve answered, it’s too late and I’ve already withered away because I wouldn’t leave the room to eat because I never wanted to leave my fantasy world, fueled only by the fading smell of your cologne, and then you and Ras are crying to each other on the phone, sobbing about how you wish you could’ve helped.
                Weeks.
                And then there are the weeks when I wonder why you don’t come home that often anymore. Why you’re spending so much time with that stupid girlfriend of yours. Why’s she so much better than me? You’re supposed to be spending your time editing and goofing off with your best friend, not romancing it up with your fucking girlfriend.
                But I convince myself I understand, because I do. If I had you, I’d definitely be stealing away all your time. Who wouldn’t? You’re perfect, and being in your company is the only thing that can cheer me up on a bad day. But, I can only sit and edit, my mind sometimes wondering to the times I miss. The times I long for.
                I long for the times when all you had time for was Smosh. The times when we’d stay up all night editing, eventually falling asleep in our chairs, sometimes with our heads on each other’s shoulders (whether that was purposeful or accidental, I’m still not sure.). And the times when we’d get bored while editing and start goofing off, messing with old videos or pictures in Photoshop.
                I wish you’d come home more often. Those weeks when you almost never come home are the worst for me. I just sit around, wondering whether it’s because you’re too busy with her, or if it’s because you were in a bad car crash before you could make it home. Personally, I think those are both worst case scenarios. There’s no best case when you’re not with me.
                None at all.
                You make me worry when you don’t show up. Not just about you, but about myself. What I’m doing to myself. Those weeks when you don’t show up, I wonder if you’re gone for good. If you’ve decided to marry her, and you two are spending your time planning the wedding, and I won’t know until I get the invitation in the mail, or when you finally come home to take a break from the planning to actually help me get Smosh stuff done.  Or, if you two have run away together, without a single word, to get away from your lives as internet stars, leaving me to tell the fans that you disappeared, and no, I don’t know why, and yes, I know, I miss him too, I was his fucking best friend! And these scenarios make my heart break, make me feel worse than I did when I realized you weren’t coming home for a while.
                But I know you wouldn’t do that.
                Not to me.
                Would you?
                Months and Years.
                The years. Oh god, the years. Sometimes, I’ll sit on my bed, and my mind will drift off to the first years we started spending time together. Not when we paired up for that project in sixth grade, I mean those months when I started bumming rides off of you, when we actually started hanging out. I miss when we just sit in your room all day, munching on Doritos and playing whatever games you had on your 64.
                I hate those times because that’s the time I first fell in love with you.
                Oh, I wish I would’ve known what you would do to me. To my heart.
                My favorite memory is the first time we got high. Because that was the day we decided to start dating.
                It was only an experiment, I know, and I should have declined, but I was naïve and I thought, no, I knew I was in love, so I couldn’t turn down the chance. I knew you were just using the fact that I was gay, testing because you were curious about these thoughts you were having, and god, why didn’t I just decline? But god, it was amazing. You gave the best kisses, the best hugs, and your hands were warm and they felt so nice when they were intertwined with mine, and I loved you.
                But you didn’t love me.
                You can’t love me.
                No one can.
                But that year we dated was the best year of my life.
                And you threw it all away. You tore me apart when you did that. I know you don’t know you did it, but you tore my idiotic, naïve little heart to pieces.
                And now all I can do is sit in my room, thinking about all this. These measurements of time, how they relate to us, and how you tear me apart, but I still love you. And I wonder why you picked her. What’s wrong with me? Is it because I’m not a girl? Because I don’t care that you’re not a woman. I could teach you how to not care, if it’d make you love me.
                All I can do is curl up in the only blanket you left behind, smelling your cologne, wondering why you picked her. Why you moved in with her. Was I terrible roommate? Unbearable? Did I smell bad? Was I annoying? Because I could change all of that.
                I could change all of that, just for you.
                But these questions remain unanswered. I’m too afraid to ask them. So I just curl up on your bed and stare at the clock, waiting for the times you come home, your real home, to film and to edit.
                Never just to see me.
                Just for business.
                Why do I love you, when you hurt me so?
                When you hurt me across all these minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years.
                When you break my heart and tear me apart over time.