{Anthony}
I don't remember exactly when it began.
But I do remember how it felt.
It was just little things at first.
I found myself remembering all these small details about Ian, from which direction he flips his hair, to the way he eats a salad.
And he suddenly became the only thing on my mind.
Then there was that stupid dare, that stupid question from Lunchtime.
"@guitarhero11wte says 'Have a staring contest'" I said as Ian filmed. I made a stupid face to the camera as Ian and I situated ourselves so that we were facing one another.
Because of the lens, we had to sit uncomfortably close. Our knees touched as we both leaned into the frame.
"3...2..1, Go!" Ian yelled, staring into my eyes. I burst out laughing, unable to control myself. Ian blushed and counted down again.
"If you lean in to kiss me, I'm going to stab you," I threatened, almost jokingly. A part of me wanted him to, just to know what it would be like.
"Go!" Ian shouted again. Our eyes met, and I could feel my face flushing. Ian moved in a little closer, our lips only inches away.
His eyes were dark and unreadable as he leaned in even closer, nearly closing the gap between the two of us. I couldn't take it anymore, the sexual tension was impalpable. I pulled back quickly, shutting my eyes and forcing a laugh.
I looked up at Ian, and his expression was unreadable. He seemed hurt, almost. I stood up, brushing myself off. Ian did so as well, but he was quiet.
As we walked back to the table, I felt my foot catch on something, and went sprawling forwards. It was then that Ian began to laugh, the previous moments forgotten. He walked over to me and extended his hand.
"You okay, dude?" he asked, still laughing slightly. I nodded, and took his hand. I felt the sparks immediately, and I let go, unfortunately pulling Ian down also.
He landed on top of me with a thump.
"Ah, shit, I'm sorry," I said, biting my lip as he struggled to sit up. I could still feel my hand tingling from where he had touched it. I couldn't take the tension anymore, and my heart thumped as I made a rash decision.
As Ian began to sit up, his legs still around my waist, I wrapped my arm behind his back, and pulled him back down. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped as I leaned in, and bit his lip slightly.
He knew what I was doing, and he didn't care.
There was a few brief seconds before our lips met, but it seemed like an eternity.
Then it was happening. I was kissing Ian Hecox, my best friend since sixth grade. Our lips moved in sync, and he put one hand on my lower back, pushing me closer to him. He ground his hips against mine, attempting to create friction.
I stood up, pulling him up with me.
{Ian}
I wrapped my arms around him again, pushing him slightly against the light wall. The kiss deepened as his tongue explored my mouth. I ground our hips together slightly and a moan escaped his mouth. I disconnected our lips as I began trailing my fingers up and down his chest.
"Jesus Ian," He groaned, attaching his lips to my neck. I began unbuttoning his black and red flannel, revealing his budding six-pack.
He led me into his bedroom, and we lay across the bed, him on top of me.
. . .
When we finished, we curled up together under the covers, enjoying the moment of silence.
I must have drifted off, because when I opened my eyes, Anthony was gone. I stretched, and left the bedroom, calling his name.
I found him sprawled across the couch, playing on his phone.
"Anthony?" I said, and he ignored me, but a steady blush spread across his face. I walked over and sat down on the couch stiffly, feeling awkward. "We can't pretend that that didn't happen," I began, touching his leg lightly. He jerked away, pulling his knees to his chest.
"I'd rather we did," He said, looking down at his lap.
"I've, I've liked you for a while now, and you know that you felt something. Don't lie," I told him, watching him intently.
"God, Ian, I'm not gay! F*ck off." He said.
It felt like I had been slapped across the face.
"Fine, dude. Whatever!" I stood up and walked outside, slamming the door behind me. I sat, head in my hands, and cried.
{Anthony}
As we lay in bed afterward, Ian sleeping on my chest, the realization of what we had just done hit me. I just did my best friend. And I liked it.
I could lie, and pretend it wasn't true, but the matter of fact was that I was gay. I needed time to think. I softly lay Ian's head down on the pillow, and walked out to the living room.
An hour or so later, Ian came out into the living room, his hair disheveled.
"Anthony?" he said, and I ignored him, but I could feel the steady blush begin to spread across my cheeks. He walked over and sat down on the couch stiffly, and I could tell how awkward he felt.
"We can't pretend that that didn't happen," he began, touching my leg lightly. I jerked away, pulling my knees to my chest. I didn't want this to happen right now. I needed time to process.
"I'd rather we did," I said, looking down at my lap. The space behind my eyes began to burn, and I felt as if I were about to cry.
"I've, I've liked you for a while now, and you know that you felt something. Don't lie," He told me, his electric blue eyes watching me.
"God, Ian, I'm not gay! F*ck off." I said. The words burned as they escaped my mouth. i knew it wasn't true, but I didn't exactly feel like having a heart-to-heart with Ian at the moment.
He looked like he had been slapped across the face.
"Fine, dude. Whatever!" his voice cracked as he spoke. He stood up and walked outside, slamming the door behind him.
I sat, stunned for a moment. DId I just do that to him? I got up, and walked over to the window, pulling back the curtain slightly.
Ian was sitting on the porch, crying.
How could I do that to him? I loved him, I was sure of that now.
"I'm sorry, Ian," I whispered.
