Have Faith in Me (Ianthony)

Chapter 10: There's Nothing to Talk About!

I sincerely hope you all had a very merry Christmas! I did! I finally got a 3DS and it's red and black, my two favorite colors. Anyway, let's get back to my very favorite story. Thanks so much for being patient, guys. That means literally so much to me and I'm über glad you're all enjoying the story as much as you are. Also, the 25th was my one year Smosh anniversary so I'm really emotional haha. But anyway, here's chapter 10!

And oooh boy is it angsty.

For nearly five hours, Ian paced the floor of the Smosh house living room, his emotions varied. Sometimes worried, sometimes angry, sometimes confused, but always upset. His mind was clogged with thoughts of Anthony.

Damn him for leaving. Damn him for kissing me. Damn him for making me feel this way.

Consequently, Ian was also flying over the moon with happiness. Anthony had kissed him. Even more than that, he'd thrown him against the wall, pinned him against the wall, and had grinded up against him like his depended on it. He'd shoved his tongue into his mouth so far that Ian could taste the mint that he'd popped sometime after dinner. Anthony had bit down hard on Ian's lips, bringing the metallic taste of blood into his palate. He wanted Anthony to kiss him that way again, but he also wanted to slap him for just running out like that. He wasn't answering his phone and he'd been gone for hours.

Ian was driving himself insane with worry. He was pacing the floor, dusting their furniture, and periodically checking in on Audrina every five minutes. Each time, he would find that she was sleeping peacefully in her crib, clutching her purple rabbit tightly.

I'm actually going to kill Anthony when he gets home, Ian thought to himself, I'm gonna wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until he turns blue. I'm gonna-

Ian was in the midst of wiping off their television for the hundredth time when the front door swung open, revealing a weak Anthony. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair disheveled, and his clothes were even a bit wrinkled.

"Where the fuck were you?" Ian demanded, stalking over to him.

Anthony sighed. "With Alyssa."

This hit Ian like a truck. He knew for certain that Anthony saw his face fall, and that he swallowed, eyes glancing at the floor.

"You should have told me where you were going," he forced out. "I-I was worried sick."

Anthony shook his head. "Ian, not right now. I've got a fucking headache and I just want to go to bed." He shifted forward in an attempt to push past Ian and go to his own room, but Ian stopped him, grabbing his wrist hard.

Anthony turned back around and gave Ian a tired, questioning gaze. "Dude, what the he-"

"We have to talk," Ian spat, "right. Now."

The taller man rolled his eyes before settling down on the sofa. "What is it, Ian?"

Ian sat down beside Anthony, mouth gaping open. "What is it? Gee, I don't know, Anth. Maybe it's the fact that you shoved your fucking tongue down my throat and then ran out like a little bitch!"

Ian instantly regretted his words as he saw the immediate anger that flashed in his chocolate eyes.

"First of all," Anthony said through gritted teeth, "don't fucking call me names. And secondly, there's nothing to talk about."

"What?!" Ian exclaimed, "there's nothing to talk about?"

"Nope," Anthony replied smugly.

Ian shook his head. "That's where you're wrong, man. You kissed me and then you ran out! I could have handled one or the other, but not both! Now, you better explain what the hell that was. And you'd better do it now."