Night's Open Eyes (Ianthony)

Anthony could feel Ian's weight shift on the other side of the bed as the mattress creaked accordingly. It was at least two in the morning on a Sunday night, meaning that the two would have to get up for school in the early morning hours. Four hours of sleep.

Great.

Although Anthony's vision was prohibited by a lack of sufficient lighting, he rolled over to face his best friend's turned back. Apparently feeling Anthony's eyes stabbing into his backside, Ian flipped over too, though it didn't really make a difference since the velvety darkness separated them and made them each invisible to the other.

The silence coated the air thickly, pressing its thick cotton into both of the boys' (nearly men's) ears. It felt almost threatening, pushing Anthony's voice to pierce through the night.

"Ian?"

"Yeah?" Ian responded softly, though not entirely gently.

Thinking for a second and loosing sight of what he was about to ask, Anthony shrugged. "I don't know."

After a few seconds of enclosed, silent claustrophobia, Ian suggested, "Maybe it was the eyes."

What the hell?

Anthony remained silent. Was Ian sleep talking or some shit? He didn't want Ian to freak him out by talking about these so-called "eyes," but he allowed Ian to continue talking somewhat sleepily, listening quietly.

"You know, the eyes... They're real. Y'know, they're like the ones that we use to see, except not everyone can use these eyes. They... They see things based on what we believe."

At this point, Anthony found the courage to interrupt. "What d'you mean?" he questioned, curiosity getting the better of him. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at all if he kept thinking about these trivial eyes.

"Uh..." Ian pondered, " Well, you use the eyes to know stuff. Stuff that you probably shouldn't know. Like... Intuition, sort of. Except deeper... They help you see right from wrong and make your decisions. It's all a lot clearer when you use the eyes. I think you were using the eyes to talk to me earlier 'cause you knew that I wasn't sleeping. You knew, right?"

After a slight pause, Anthony whispered, "Right."

It actually made sense, which scared Anthony. Why was Ian suddenly a fucking philosopher when he got a little drowsy? This entire session was beginning to weird Anthony out...

"Like, this one time..." Ian mumbled on, "I used the eyes to break up with this girl. I just had a little feeling that something wasn't right, but after I saw with the eyes, I knew that it wasn't working."

"You saw?" Anthony asked, surprising himself by getting involved in this unsettling night conversation.

Anthony could feel Ian nodding into the mattress. "Yeah... I did." Then, to his surprise, he felt Ian scooting closer. Soon, he could feel Ian's breath tickling the nape of his exposed neck. "But I see something else right now..."

Raising an eyebrow, Anthony inquired, "Really?"

"Mhm," Ian murmured tiredly, lips now brushing agains Anthony's neck. The contact of skin-on-skin made Anthony shudder with foreign pleasure.

Now thoroughly confused, Anthony rolled over only to have Ian's invisible lips connect with his in soft, lethargic passion. Ian swiped his tongue across Anthony's slightly-chapped lips before disconnecting all too soon. The cool air hitting Anthony's damp lips made him wish for the warmth of Ian to return.

"Keep your eyes wide open," Ian muttered before rolling back over into his side of the bed and pulling the covers and sheets up to his neck.

Softly replying, "I will", Anthony also turned and almost instantly fell into a deep sleep, which eased his mind into entirely forgetting about the eyes by morning.

His eyes had clouded over.