Archive of Our Own

Ian’s gotta say, out of everything they’ve done together in life, this still isn’t the worst idea they’ve had. Disgusting? Yes. Has it totally changed his perception on animals and the food industry as a whole? Also yes. He hates to say it, but he understands why Anthony was always advocating for clean eating. This is such a disgusting process. As he cuts into the rabbit’s midsection, blood splatters onto his face, and Ian freezes. He squirms as his eyes remain shut, trying to process that yes, that did just happen to him, and despite the amount of dorky medical gear he’s got on to help with the mess of things, accidents like this are still bound to occur.

He sighs as he sets his right hand down onto the makeshift cutting board he’s left in the woods, grabbing the lantern and using his left one to allow the rabbits’ blood to be poured into the big kitchen bowl with the rest of what will hopefully be Anthony’s dinner. Using the yellow gloves, he takes off his safety goggles from his head, then wipes the wetness off, before waiting for the rabbit to stop bleeding and eventually drip down its final drops.

Just five days ago, their whole lives changed for the worst when Anthony was bitten by some vampire chick at a party. They ubered home drunk out of their minds, thinking none of it as Ian continued pestering him on why he didn’t continue hanging out with her instead of him, and went to bed as normal. When they woke up, his body had gone through an overnight change, and they had no choice but to momentarily take a break from uploading videos for a bit as Ian took care of him. In sickness and in health, he first thought, as he packed several day’s worth of belongings, invested in a shit ton of sunscreen, and booked an airbnb near the mountains of Northern California.

If Anthony wasn’t deathly ill, Ian imagined he’d make some sort of not-your-girlfriend joke hours into their impromptu vacation, but he never did. Probably because he must’ve been overcome with the urge to not eat him, the man thinks as he pokes at the rabbit's corpse. He’s deeply concerned for just how real all of this has gotten, nor does he want to pause and think about the future from here on out.

Despite them going from only knowing about vampires from Twilight to hitting the ground and running with Anthony’s sickness, Ian still doesn’t know anything about what to do. He’s not going to kill Anthony, but the longer they’re out here all alone, the more dangerous this issue becomes. He’s rented a small cabin within the middle of the woods. Dark enough on the inside to keep the sun out, cold enough to keep Anthony happy, and hidden away for them to figure out where to go from here.

This whole thing would have probably turned out a lot smoother if Anthony would actually eat something. Seriously, he could let the vegan thing go for a change if it meant Ian would finally relax rather than worry about his best friend’s death sentence.

In the dirtied medical scrubs, Ian leaves his makeshift butcher station to be cleaned later as he takes the bowl inside the house. The other man, once Anthony accepted that yes; he did get turned into a supernatural creature, had insisted he wouldn’t eat human blood. Downright refused. Even as the last remaining pieces of his transformation came to light. And since that’s the only thing vampires could eat, Ian had to be pretty creative with alternatives.

None of them, unfortunately, have had any success.

Animal’s blood, despite being slightly different, could still keep a vampire energized with the knowledge that it just wouldn’t taste as good, wouldn’t get them as easily full, and would be much more difficult to hunt and find as opposed to one human. Jesus, that shouldn’t come out as casually as it did in his head. Ian’s been going out of his way this whole trip trying to get animals near their cabin and extract enough energy for Anthony to try and drink from. Of course, it would actually mean something if Anthony gave in and drank it, but still he protested. But maybe this creature would do the trick and help him ease into the process.

His eyes twitch from tiredness as he opens the slide door into the cabin, he removes his dirtied shoes and sets down by the glass before shutting the door behind him. He takes note of the living room before his eyes glue themselves onto Anthony sitting on the floor in front of the couch and typing away at work on his computer. Probably writing a skit, Ian sighs, as he takes in just how normal Anthony looks right now.

“How was it out there?” Anthony asks without even looking up from his computer.

“Cold. Gross. But I guess it could be worse.” Ian sighs as he settles the messy bowl down in the kitchen counter and begins to remove his thin outer layer of medical attire. It’s the only portion of the house that doesn’t have a carpet, so the least he could do was try to avoid getting any more blood on the floor than he already has. The man shudders as his body temperature catches up to him, with his shirt and sweatpants slightly damp from the sweat he produced doing all that manual labor.

It’s when he’s dumping the medical clothes in the sink and tidying the area up when Ian notices the untouched plate of apple slices on the coffee table. One of them has an attempt at a bite, while the rest begin to darken with exposure as they sit next to his best friend. “How did the apple taste?”

The taller man huffs in disappointment as he pushes the plate away, as if Ian’s reminder made him remember that they were even there. “Disappointing. It’s like…it lacks the actual flavor of the apple. I can bite and chew and swallow it, but I feel like I’m eating styrofoam.” He grimaces as he stops typing, his arrow flickering on screen as Ian glances down at the bowl of blood in front of him.

“That’s okay, I caught dinner for you anyways.”

It’s like Anthony could already tell Ian was going to come over as soon as he pours the extractions into a kitchen bowl. It’s the least he could do to try and continue acting like this is a normal afternoon. If Anthony ignored the taste, he could even pretend it was tomato soup. He’s barely putting the spoon in before Anthony slams his macbook closed and attempts to retreat.

“I’m not hungry. I’ll be in the room.” He frowns, visibly upset already.

He’s moodier now, so Ian has to keep that in mind as he rushes out of the kitchen, following behind him with the soup bowl in hand as Anthony attempts to slam the door on him. “No–don’t do that man. You didn’t see that poor bunny before I had to maul its insides out. You have to try and eat!”

Neither of them make it to the inside as Anthony turns around and glares at the other man. “I didn’t ask you to do any of that. You still don’t need to. Just leave me alone.” His tone is even, but strained, as he returns to twisting the door again. Still, Ian clings to the small bowl. “I know that! But we can’t keep living like this, you can’t keep living like this. You’re going to—”

The bowl drops to the floor, staining the poor carpet anyways.

Despite not having eaten anything and starving himself for two days straight, Anthony’s still much stronger than Ian in this form than he ever was beforehand. He lifts Ian high into the air by his underarms, a concept that shouldn’t really work for two guys that have the same weight and muscle mass, but still it does. He slams him against a nearby wall. Hard. Ian fights the urge to not make any stupid noises, but it hurts like hell when his body makes an impact against the area.

A small, uncomfortable groan slips past his lips anyways as he hears Anthony’s breathing. His eyes peer open as he stares his best friend down. His hands grips Ian tight, and his breath remains intense and heavy. Like just being this close to him made breathing so much more difficult. The look he gives him, just for a moment, makes Ian wonder if this was it. This is how he would die. Anthony remains with his stone cold gaze, eyes so dilated he’d swear the black parts of his pupils would consume the sweet brown portion he’d always adored.

If they were in much more normal circumstances, they’d stop fighting and cut the staring contest a long time ago. They’d make jokes calling the other guy gay and then go about their day being twitchy near each other. But they don’t do any of that. And it’s gone on far too long for them to go act like it’s a joke anymore. Ian’s face grimaces in concern as his hands find security on the other man’s sleeved shirt.

“Anthony.” He whispers, a warning in his tone acknowledging the dangers that might happen right here. Here he was, two days into a hunger strike, while the only thing he can eat is spilled all over the floor beneath them, out in the open, and smelling dangerously tempting. And here Ian was, like a lamb to the slaughter, praying to God his best friend still remembers his humanity.

Something in Ian’s voice is what causes Anthony to snap out of whatever trance his hunger had placed him under. He gasps quietly, setting his best friend back onto his feet and hovers his hands over his shoulders. Shame forms across his face as Anthony suddenly acknowledges the scene they’ve created in the house. Between the fucked up wall and the blood they’ll have to clean off the floor, they’re building up a huge repair fee for when they leave.

“Fuck, Ian, I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t know what I was doing. I would never mean any of that.” His grip grows more securely as he rambles on in embarrassment and shame. “...Please don’t leave.”

Ian’s trying his best to look calm, but his heart rate is still beating pretty fast, and he’s sure the other man could pick up on that fact as well. He mimics his actions, placing his own hands on Anthony’s shoulders as he manages to crack a smile. “What loser would abandon his friend in a time like this.” It’s sickening that Ian would ever think like this in the first place, but the longer they stay here, the more he’s considering letting Anthony drink his blood. If that meant him regaining his strength and giving in to the hunger that’s out of his control.

Anthony gives him that look, the one where he purses his lips into a thin line and does his best to stop his eyes from watering with tears.

“I really don’t want to drink the blood.” Anthony admits in a quiet voice, leaning down and burying his head into Ian’s shoulder.

They can joke about how he’s vegan and sworn off animal blood completely, but at the end of the day, all jokes aside, this is so much more than that. Morally speaking, it’s on the verge of cannibalism, and Anthony already has a hard time struggling with the process of how regular meat is made. He has too much love to give to put aside for his own well being. It didn't matter how hungry he was, Ian knew he’d never budge and turn someone else.

“Okay.” Ian sighs, admitting defeat. He’ll clean the mess outside and disassemble the traps. He’s not going to push this anymore. If Anthony’s insistent on it, he’s gotta be a friend and hear him out.

“We’ll figure something out.” Ian sighs as they huddle together on the carpeted floor. Somewhere along the way, he manages to move them to the couch instead, Anthony clings to his side as Ian lays his head atop of his, rubbing at his shoulder in a sympathetic way. They never do stuff like this, they’re not girls. They don’t have sleepovers or talk about feelings or braid each other's hair. Ian’s not even that touchy with other people they know anyways.

But Ian knows this is the next best thing he can offer him right now. There’s no way he’d ever understand what the other man is going through right now. The changes his body must be facing, his hunger, his control, everything that must be holding him back from trying to eat Ian instead. So if being cuddly with his best friend meant consoling him from all the terrible things he’s fighting with his own brain, then he would gladly do it.

He won’t admit to it, but it feels…kind of good to be cuddled up like this. The other man’s body is cold, but when he gets up for a moment to grab blankets for the two of them, it works out well, like when you fall asleep with the fan on. Maybe Ian really was touch starved, because when they have to separate and retreat back to separate areas of the house, he ends up feeling more tired than not.

It’s difficult to move around their adjusted sleeping schedule. With Anthony needing to sleep during the day, Ian’s routines shift too. They stay there for hours, pausing between whatever game shows are on in the early morning and several more attempts to get Anthony to eat something. When none of that works and the sun begins to creep up behind curtained windows, Ian has to drag Anthony to the guarded bedroom and make sure he falls asleep safely. Carefully, he adds more fire to the fireplace in his room and double checks his best friend’s prison. He worries too much, but Anthony appreciates it anyway as he waves the other man goodnight. Ian locks the door and puts the key in his pocket, a choice Anthony insisted on so as to not harm anyone while he slept.

It’s a terribly lonely walk when he reverts back to the living room. By now, it must be around six in the morning, and Ian’s only been getting four to five hours of sleep in the short time they’ve been staying here. All of which have been during the day, just so he can regulate the same kind of schedule Anthony has. Ian needs some sort of stress relief, he’s exhausted. With the cold cabin, the shitty couch, and their small amount of groceries anyways, he’s not exactly having the best vacation right now.

But he doesn’t deserve any of that yet. Not until he can figure out how to move past this with Anthony’s conditions. It’s a miracle he hasn’t died on Ian already, but if Anthony doesn’t consume something in his system by tomorrow, he’s certain his best friend will meet an early demise.

Ian stands up and raids through his bags, finally getting a chance to grab his laptop and scroll through the device to get some answers for their new lives. He sighs as the arrow blinks on screen, hesitating on what to google from here. Vampire symptoms? Wiki Articles? A blog on the Twilight Saga? He needs something that may actually be useful to him, which could be hard right now, considering Ian’s lived his whole life thinking Vampires were just roleplaying tactics for middle aged women and their poor husbands. He gives the twilight option a try, because if he knows fandom culture, then he knows there’s gotta be someone out there who’s actually putting in the work on being a hypothetical vampire historian.

The search results give him nothing but edgy, grungy blogs coded by teenagers begging to be just like Bella Swan. He cringes as he begins to skim through a couple, finding nothing but the same cookie cutter responses about Vampires. Yes they drink blood, yes it’s human blood, yes it can be replaced by animal blood, but know that may not always be the best solution to a newborn vampire. Etcetra etcetra.

He groans from exhaustion as he hits the ‘next’ button on the article, attempting to scroll through one more article or two before settling down on the couch and falling asleep. His head hurts and this area of the house was too cold to keep warm with just the thin throw blanket in his grasp. If only they really were here for a snow day or fishing, the two of them could have shared the bed like they were kids again and still have enough space for the two of them to rest easily.

His eye twitches as he clicks on the article, pleasantly surprised and then disappointed to see the items revealed to be based around a Dungeons and Dragons Wiki instead. The young man blinks for a second, sits upright on the couch and begins to scroll through the blog in hopes of finding something different or new.

“Inescapable Craving: Some undead have no “bodily” requirement to feed, and could continue to exist solely on negative energy, but are driven to their diet all the same by inescapable cravings. These cravings, denied too long, could turn even a sentient undead to mindless hunger. Once the feeding is accomplished and the hunger sated, the intensity of the craving drops back to tolerable level, but it is a cycle doomed to repeat itself.”

Something sick and twisted turns in Ian’s guts as he runs a hand through his recently cut hair, thinking about Anthony’s recent string of affection the past few days. “Jesus Christ.” He continues reading on.

“Diet Dependent: Some undead must feed on the living to retain either their mobility or some of their other abilities. The link to the Negative Energy Plane for undead of these sort grows increasingly tenuous the longer they are denied the necessary food. At some point, their mobility or one or more specific abilities are suppressed until they can feed again. However, no matter how enervated by lack of feeding, undead cannot be starved to the point of permanent de-animation. A fresh infusion of their preferred food can always bring them back to their full abilities. Spiritual and Physical feedings included. Most diet-dependent undead can go for three to six months before losing all mobility.”

He sighs as he pauses to process everything he’s just read. So it’s not just blood, but human emotions too. No, that’s not right. Their energy. But what did that mean? Did Anthony develop any abilities that came with his supernatural body, or was it too early to tell. Was that part a true fact or did some of the articles put that part in there, again, because of Twilight?

He keeps the article open in one tab as he opens another, hesitating before typing up vampires and their symptoms against human energy. Right away, Ian’s faced with a quick Wikipedia article on Psychic Vampires, and although he wouldn’t usually click on anything from there for knowledge, this is the first time he’s seen something vampire-related actually appear from the website.

So maybe there’s a little hope for him to fix Anthony’s issues. Who knows. The young man clicks on the google link, waits patiently for the website to load, and analyzes his options from there. A Psychic Vampire, as defined by this shitty, four year old article, is a creature in folklore said to feed off the "life force" of other living creatures. A sexual vampire, which is supposed to feed off sexual energy, can often use this as the strongest replacement for blood consumption and mobility, though their abilities may still be weakened without the extra source of iron.

So…

That’s an option. If it’s even real.

It might work. They would just have to risk going through the motions of going out and finding someone for Anthony to willingly exert the energy out of. And what happens then? Would they just be tired? Could he harm them by feeding off the pleasure he gives from them?

Fuck. Would Anthony even be willing to go through that?

And then Ian pauses as he turns his head to the side, glancing out the window as the dead trees rustle with what little leaves remain on them anyways. Realistically, anyone who hasn’t eaten in two days should already be exhausted, but Anthony’s been holding off pretty well, and Ian feels like he’s the one who’s drained of his lifeforce. Considering the amount of cuddling they’ve both unspokenly agreed to while being here, isn’t Ian already doing all of that?

They’ve made jokes like this before, edited into skits that were meant to be taken as a joke. About the end of the world and how they’d 100% just hook up with each other if they had to fall on the end of the world. The world may not be ending, but this is an urgent moment if they decide to go through with this and Anthony can’t find anyone to get himself laid with. Or worse, they go out and he decides to bite someone instead.

Ian closes his laptop and reflects on the very limited options they have. He’s going to sleep on it first, because he’s exhausted, then he’s going to go back outside and clean his butcher station, make something to eat with the limited groceries they have, and then call first dibs on the shower in the bedroom when Anthony wakes up again. He needs it.

He’s pretty sure his body is trying to fight against his new sleep schedule, as he continuously proceeds to sleep for an hour or two, jolts up again, and then unfortunately gets too tired to function properly before falling asleep again. It’s like that all day until around one in the afternoon. The sun shines brightly against his face as he groans inside the cabin, sitting upright and rubbing at the tweak in his neck from the uncomfortable throw pillows. It’s lonely here now that Anthony’s still in the room.

He can’t help but feel uneasy about all this. Work, videos, filming schedules, all of that basically shelved in the tallest metaphorical box because of Anthony’s conditions. The transition to combining their new living situation with work is going to be terrible. How can they just go about this like before?

As much as he tries to relax and go back to sleep on the couch, his brain is swirling with all sorts of issues Anthony’s development is going to cause. Say that he was down for this alternative energy situation. Where the hell were they going to get someone up here for this? It’s at least an hour’s commute back down town, and from there, they’d have to find some poor girl in whatever situation’s the quickest, convince her of the very real issue they’re having, and then have her hook up with him until his hunger’s faded away?

He’s uncomfortable just thinking about that. Nothing about the idea sounds like it could be worth it enough for Anthony. Which means, if the other’s even down for it…

The only other option would be with Ian.

No jokes, no skits, no pinky promises of if/when/how the world ends; but an actual hook up.

The stupid brass fish clock ticks away in the middle of the living room as Ian runs a hand through his hair.

He somehow dozes off again for another thirty minutes before he’s startled awake later. This time, it’s not by his own body, but by Anthony attempting to clean the mess they’d left around the house with the bowl. Ian jolts upright, watching him as he looks so normal and controlled, still refusing to bring the blood anywhere near his mouth.

Anthony gives him an awkward smile as he begins scrubbing the dishes in the sink. “You think it’d be okay if I dumped it all down the sink?”

Ian shrugs, like they’re talking about the remains of a bowl of soup rather than rabbit's blood. “I’d rather we drain it there than outside again. That way we don’t accidentally alert more animals near the area.”

Anthony laughs as he continues scrubbing. Ian ignores the fact that he can faintly hear his stomach growl. “Don’t worry. I’ll fight them off, then it’ll really be like Twilight.”

Right, technically if werewolves existed, Anthony could totally fight one off now. It’s not like he’d be able to easily die.

“Cool. Uh, I’m gonna go shower then since you’re awake.” Ian nods, standing up to go look for his suitcase full of rushed packed clothes. He’s pretty sure Anthony’s looks just as bad, if not worse, because he insisted on doing everything himself despite being on the verge of death the whole time.

Ian huffs quietly as he manages to pull out a pair of shorts and a piece of their own merch. It’ll do to lounge around, but he might have to borrow a blanket from Anthony to fight the cold outside.

He doesn’t respond as Ian makes his way to the restroom in the bedroom. He makes a note to scan around the area, the bedroom still looking like how Anthony would usually leave it, except for the curtains hiding him away from the earth. He wondered, just for a moment, if Anthony had gotten sad over the realization that he would never step out into the sunshine safely ever again.

Ian sighs as he closes the bathroom door behind him and promptly undresses himself.

He tried experimenting once in college when he was nineteen with an older guy. Once being the keyword. The man knew what he was doing, and he won’t lie about the fact that he loved it more than any straight guy probably should, but it was just something he wanted to try out of curiosity. Ian never went out and chased after other men at parties or clubs, but the experience had always lingered in the back of his mind. It hasn’t been so long that Ian would have forgotten the experience of his first time with a man, but he also understands that he lacks both the skills and the confidence in order to make himself ache with pleasure for more.

Or, well, pleasure for Anthony, he supposes.

For some reason, his dick stirs at that thought as he brings a leg up on the stool area of the shower. Not exactly his most flattering angle, but it’ll probably be the area with the best way to reach himself with. Carefully, he squirts a little bit of lube onto his fingers and massages them along the tips (ha) before being satisfied with his work and getting to business.

He teases against his rim and sighs, gently easing his hole into it before starting with one. Just for now until he’s gotten stretched out enough for a second one. It’s a slow start as he tries to stimulate himself with his left hand, stroking clumsily as his nondominant hand gave his dick a mediocre performance. It’s not bad, but the motions aren’t nearly as confident or fluid as they would be with his other one.

His brain drifts off as he attempts to go a bit faster, feeling the muscles relax a bit as he thinks of things that have gotten him going before. Pretty girls that were still out of his league, but they laugh at his jokes anyways. Strong guys with muscles and toned, tanned chests. Guys like Anthony. Anthony slamming him against a bed or a different wall and having his way with him like some sort of toy—

Teeth meet his lips as he shudders, trying his best to hide a moan as his dick stands fully erect now. He squeezes the flesh to prevent coming too soon. The shower water steams as his body remains flushed and warm. Hesitantly, he adds another finger inside himself and pants at the added thickness. It’s really not that much, but his body makes it feel like so much more.

The air around him is hard to breathe in, fog consuming his lungs as he struggles to keep calm and collected. It’s not good that he finds that so attractive, but thinking of Anthony just feeding off Ian deriving pleasure from himself, watching him, talking him through it without ever having to lay a hand on him…

He’s his best friend, and he’s going through a terrible time in his life right now, and all Ian can think about is how relishing it would be to get off together, uniting their bodies as one.

There’s a few violent slams against the opposite side of the door, startling Ian and making his heart drop to his stomach. Fuck. Oh fuck. He bites on his tongue to hide any more whines or moans that dare to come out of his mouth. Thank God he locked the door.

”Ian?” Comes Anthony’s voice, slightly desperate and raspy as he swears a pearl of pre drips out of him. He really doesn’t need to be making conversations right now. Not when he needs to come so badly.

Still, he’s not a prude, so Ian clears his throat and calms his nerves for a moment before responding back. “What’s up?”

He can hear the man stuttering for a moment, struggling to find the words before letting out a big sigh. “I can’t be in the house with you here right now…” Anthony trails off as Ian swears the door knob was attempted to be opened. “…I can smell you. Everything is so much more intense and I’m scared of losing control over myself.”

Fuck.

“Wait!” He shoves the shower’s curtains off to the side, rushing to grab at a towel to wrap around his lower body despite knowing damn well it won’t cover anything about his erection. It’s gonna poke out awkwardly like the beginning of one of those cheap pornos he used to skip through as a teen.

He creeps the door open and sticks his upper body out, noting the way Anthony still hasn’t left the doorway, still waiting for his response. He examines his features, looking slightly sweaty and flushed like he had just finished a workout. His lips had darkened a little, no doubt from biting at them in frustration while Ian had been in the showers.

“Lose control over what?” Ian questions, his voice slightly higher than usual as he fakes a cough into his hand. It’s bullshit anyways, and they’re both aware of it.

“Over…God, don’t make me say it out loud.” Anthony pleads, chest heaving as he struggles to even breathe the same air around Ian.

Ian feels awkward as to how he should go about this. Wondering whether he should just drop to his knees and offer himself, be vulnerable and confess why he’s trying to masturbate on vacation, or simply spit out the reason he’d do either of those things in the first place.

“I found a way to help you feed without the need to eat blood.” He sighs, feeling water drip down his wet hair and onto his shoulders. “But it’s the only other option I’ve been able to find.”

It’s hard to describe the way Anthony’s face looks right now, but he can just sense the hunger throughout his body and vibrating throughout his skin. Guilt gnaws at his own body as he wonders whether to just give up and suggest he finds a nice, pretty girl he can just pay to fool around with Anthony. His eyes are super dilated though, so maybe he should just get on with it.

“We have to sleep together.” He bluntly offers. “If you can’t feed off human blood and if you won’t drink the animal blood, you have to feed off sex. We’re too far out of town to go and find a girl for you to hook up with. It’s the only other way or you’ll be dead by tomorrow morning.”

Anthony doesn’t blink, but he processes Ian’s proposal cautiously. “It might not be safe, I could hurt you. Badly.”

He could, but Ian knows he won’t. “I know, but we don’t have a lot of other options left.”

His curls are all over the place, probably from running his own hands all over them. “I’m really hungry, Ian.”

And there it is, he’s spoken it into existence, acknowledged it for the first time their whole trip down here where they only have each other for support.

“That’s what best friends are for. You’d do it for me. If it makes you feel better, we don’t have to talk about it, but it’ll hold you off until we find something else for you to feed on.”

Ian’s not going to make the first move for anything, not unless Ian asks him to do so. Water drenches around him as he hovers over the bathroom door. Anthony’s big, brown eyes plead with him silently as he contemplates their limited options. “You’re right, I’d do it for you too.”

Like a splash of cold water, something in his system bursts awake, alive with a subdued hunger he could no longer contain. Anthony leans forward, grabs Ian by his shoulder, and smashes their lips together as the door is evidently opened and abandoned. He groans at first contact, bringing their bodies as close as possible. “Oh fuck,” He whispers, grasping at Ian’s towel and dropping it between them. “Fuck, you’re already hard.” Anthony goes back to the desperate kisses, nipping at Ian’s bottom lip with his teeth every now and then as they stumble against each other in the doorway. It’s agressive, it’s needy, and it feels so fucking good.

He offers a gentle stroke to Ian’s member, earning a small moan from the other man as his knees buckle. His head feels dizzy as he grips onto Anthony’s shoulders, moving his hands down and helping him undress too. “The couch.” Ian mumbles, “Not here.”

Anthony throws his shirt off and discards it onto the floor before walking backwards, leading Ian along as he gropes at his ass. “Is that what you were doing in there? Torturing me? Making yourself all pretty and clean?”

They tried so hard to make sure this house would remain the same for the owners they’re renting it from, but this, unfortunately, was going to be the cherry on top of everything else. Anthony tosses him onto the center seat before kneeling right in front of Ian and his naked form. He eyes down his dick like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen before getting to work, which is weird because shouldn’t Ian be the guy to help him out in this situation?

He licks the under shaft, minding his teeth as the other man shutters. Right, it’s best not to complain right now. He doesn't really want Anthony to bite his dick off.

The thought, despite how graphic it sounds, makes Ian laugh above Anthony while he’s already trying to give him head. He pouts and retreats a bit. “What’s so funny?”

Ian shakes his head, dismissing the thought as he brushes hair away from Anthony’s face. “Nothing. Just thinking about how crazy all of this would sound to a normal person.”

Because nothing about what they’re doing right now is normal. They are no longer normal people.

He’s cute when he’s mad, so Ian can’t complain about the pause, but Anthony frowns as he continues to try and stroke him slow and steady. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

They didn’t even have a moment anyways, but whatever. Ian nods and gulps as Anthony goes back to placing all his attention on him, cautious of his teeth as Ian’s dick goes two thirds of the way down before he’s pulling away. He shouldn’t be moaning at all, so Ian remains as quiet as he can be, muffling his hand over his mouth as the other one rests upon Anthony’s face, his hair, anywhere Ian can grab for emotional support.

His brain can barely form a thought above as Anthony continues to bring him to heaven. His mouth must be aching, and if he were still human, he’d probably be gagging right now. The handsome boy had no gag reflex, and much, much more stamina. Anthony sucks and spits all over Ian’s member like it’s the best goddamned popsicle he’d ever sucked on.

“Ah, shit. Dude, dude, you have to pull off. I’m getting close.” Ian whines, going back to running his hands through the other’s soft hair. Anthony retreats a few licks after the warning, struggling to even follow through with it. His cheeks glow so pretty, red and blushing as his lips pop off all swollen. They’re swollen because of him, because he’d gotten too busy sucking off Ian to pay attention to anything else.

“How do you feel?” Ian sighs, gulping down the air back into his system. He feels so dizzy. And horny, but he doesn’t want to think too much about that second one. Anthony being a champion dick sucker shouldn’t make him spiral with curiosity or jealousy.

“Better, I guess.” The man sighs, leaning a hand on Ian’s bare knee and hovering his forehead on top of the space. “I didn’t want to stop though. I mean–I’m still, sort of, hungry…” Anthony trails off, curling in on himself as he looks like a cat who brought in a stray bird.

“We can keep going.” Ian blurts faintly, even though he knows he shouldn’t be giving Anthony all this power over the whole situation. For all he knows, keeping this going could result in Anthony having his way with him for who knows how long, endlessly seeking an end to his hunger, being the only thing preventing him from harming any other person.

He’s so screwed.

And he’s still achingly hard.

It brings a spark back to Anthony’s eyes though, so Ian’s going to have to endure it. His thighs are riddled with goosebumps from that thought, but he’ll blame it on the coldness of the house anyways.

Like a madman, he goes back to business, kissing at Ian’s thighs like they’re supposed to mean anything as his hands grasp around. He shifts him, joining him onto the cushions as Ian is laid onto his back and throws his legs in the air. For a moment, judging by the sappy kisses Anthony keeps placing on him, he thinks the other man might go back to sucking his dick in this awkward angle.

But no, it’s more than that now. He laps and nibbles at freckled skin much further down. How and why he thinks it would be a good idea to pin him back this way, Ian doesn’t want to know, but he doesn’t want him to stop either. He’s watched stuff like this, but not the guy options, didn’t even know they were allowed to indulge in stuff like this.

Using his large hands, Ian groans as Anthony brings the back of his thighs up further and further, until they brush against his own shoulders and he groans at the newfound space this now gives the other man. His grip is tight, no doubt going to give him bruises in the morning. How does one sanitize a couch after all the sinful acts they’re about to commit on it.

“So pretty,” Anthony mumbles, before Ian’s brain explodes with a newfound pleasure attacking his body. His tongue twists as Ian’s back arches and he instinctively shoves a hand in his hair again, terribly annoying sounds escaping from his throat.

Anthony has the audacity to moan underneath him as his stupid mouth reaches every part of him now. He licks and spits and still has the audacity to nibble at his inner thighs every now and then, still cautious of the two dangerous daggers in his own mouth. Ian’s grateful for all his athletic training he’d do as a runner, the results still making an impact on him even now as his legs strain in this position.

There’s no words that form out of his mouth anymore, just quiet, breathy moans and mumbles of nothingness. It’s too good, too much for his brain to think anymore. Does Anthony do this to the girls he hooks up with too? He probably does. That must be the reason he’s so good at this.

His arm grasps at the edge of the cushion below him as Anthony’s tongue thrusts unashamedly along his hole, desperate to fuck him on it as spit makes a mess beneath them. Ian’s hips twitch impulsively as he struggles to chase the high, riding the pleasure Anthony will happily give to him.

It’s when he’s pretty sure he’s getting close again when Anthony stops, because of course he does, he’s an asshole like that. His breath shudders as Anthony sits up straight again, his eyes blown wide and face flushed, satisfied, and eager as he has the audacity to wipe at the saliva on his mouth.

“You’re so weird.” Ian mumbles, ignoring the bulge in the other man’s pants as Anthony finally begins undressing himself.

“You didn’t mind it while I was doing it,” He remarks back, pulling his shirt over his head as Ian’s eyes lock onto his stomach, hard and lined with abs the other man had worked so hard on.

“C’mere.” Anthony pleads, and it’s the only warning Ian gets before he’s leaning his head down and kissing him sweetly into the cushions. Ian allows it because they’re best friends, and Anthony’s sick, so it’s totally okay for them to do this if it means he’ll get full off all of this. He sighs and moans into the kiss as Anthony proceeds to shift in small ruts against Ian’s sensitive body, his stomach rubbing against his dick, the bulge in his jeans aching for whatever friction he can get.

This seems more like one of those drunken wet dreams he’s had. One that seems way too unrealistic, and only ends with guilt and a massive hangover. Still, by the way this whole evening’s going, they both look like they need the stress relief, and it’s not like they can just pause and take turns for cold showers. They’ll have no choice but to settle down with each other until both their bodies have received what they needed.

“You wanna stop?” Ian offers still, because just as he told him, this was all moving based on Anthony’s preferences and Anthony’s comfort.

It pains the other to think about it, because Anthony would rather suffer in silence than ever admit to asking for what he wants. So Ian carries the conversation on, “I’ll go with whatever decision you make. If you’re satisfied here, we can stop and hang out together for the rest of the night. If you want to keep going, I already started prepping.” Ian admits, as if Anthony wasn’t already observing his actions through the other side of the bathroom door.

His eyes widen as he bites on his bottom lip over Ian’s tantalizing options. With his expressions this way, he looks more like a sweet little puppy than a supernatural being of the undead. Normal, in a way.

“You’re okay with us…doing it? All the way?” He whispers, like he can’t even fathom that Ian’s being serious.

“Only if we’re on the same page about all of it.” The other man responds.

It’s subtle, but Anthony nods before sitting up straight on his knees. He’s undoing the buttons of his jeans and removing his underwear too, and Ian hates to say it, but he has to try his best to not swoon over Anthony’s naked form. Like a Greek statue, he’s perfect everywhere. Inside and out. He gulps a little as Anthony’s dick stands tall, knowing that somehow it’s going inside him in the same way his own fingers overwhelmingly did.

“Just be careful,” Ian pleads, watching as Anthony sucks on two of his fingers to add to Ian’s sensitive hole. He’d be okay with him adding them at once. He already fucked him with his tongue, and Ian made sure to get comfortable enough to bottom in the shower soo…

They’d be okay.

Still, he clings onto Anthony’s strong arms for support as the other leans over him and carefully adds a single finger inside him, just to get a feel for it. Ian shudders through it, but forces his body to relax, securing Anthony a smooth entrance inside. They’ve played plenty of video games together; sharp, quick action types that make their reaction times and dexterity a bit better than the average internet celebrity. It’s foreign, but good. Much better than he remembers, but he’s not sure if it’s because of everything else they’ve already done, or if it’s because Anthony’s the one doing it this time.

He adds the second one relatively quickly, and Ian’s back arches up as his index and middle finger proceed to stretch him out from the inside. Fuck. Anthony’s hands are longer, bigger, and they fill him up so much already. Small, needy little whines escape from his throat every now and then. It’s a habit of his to remain quiet during sex, so it’s a struggle for him to openly enjoy it. Ian just hopes Anthony knows he’s getting something good out of this.

“You’re so hot like this,” Anthony mumbles under his breath, a hand on Ian’s hip as he makes sure the other’s legs remain spread out. “So pretty. Just for me. No one else gets to touch you like this.” He pants, readjusting the angle of his fingers and brushing against Ian’s prostate. The other man chokes a little, a loud moan spilling from his tongue as his hands dig into Anthony’s arms. He wishes the other could bite at his skin a bit, leave marks to signify proof any of this was ever real.

“I think we’re good—” Ian cuts off, his head leaning back as he squirms under Anthony’s touch, his dick aching with the need to cum. Honestly, he feels like he might die if Anthony cuts him off from it again. “Really, I feel like I might…soon…oh fuck.”

Anthony backstabs him and adds a third finger anyways, quickening his pace, adamant to torture Ian in this way. “Hold on. Just making sure you’ll be okay.” Ian doesn’t respond, he can’t. There’s too much happening for him to verbally converse with him anymore. He makes the terrible move of switching his other hand to touching Ian’s neglected dick, stroking him fast as his fingers pistol in and out of him. It’s too much, he can’t cum yet. They haven’t even fucked. But with Anthony giving his all into pleasuring Ian this way, he really has no choice but to sit there and take it, take all Anthony’s willing to give him.

“Anthony—” He warns, gasping as the other kisses his neck soft and sweet. “Seriously, Anthony. I’m close. M’gonna—I’m gonna, ah, ah!” He chokes, cutting himself off as his best friend abuses his prostate and dick all the same. His back arches off the back of the couch as Anthony’s eyes widen with interest and arousal, watching Ian fall apart underneath him. The blue eyed man moans as Anthony keeps stroking him off, watching as his cum splatters all across his chest, and then some, pearly white and messy all over Anthony’s hands.

They freeze as Anthony eventually lets him go, letting Ian catch his breath as he gives him a hand, leaning down and licking the mess off his body with his tongue. Fuck. How was any of this real? Did all of that just happen?

Ian’s dizzy and tired as he feels Anthony remove his hands and walks away from him. For a moment, his heart aches as he thinks that this must be the end of it. He got what he wanted, and Ian came too early for them to move further on. He’s satisfied with this feeding, and has probably left him on the couch to deal with this mess all by himself.

It’s fine. He’ll be fine. He can just flip the cushions over or whatever.

Anthony returns a moment later, still naked, still hard, and now containing a glass of water for Ian to accept. He kneels down in front of the couch this time, brushing sweaty hair away from Ian’s forehead and offering the glass of water to Ian’s lips. “Drink.”

The angle of which he takes the water from is awkward, some of it spilling down his neck and dropping onto the throw pillow below him, but Ian drinks at least half of the glass in small gulps. Anthony’s there with him the whole way, taking care of him until he’s okay enough to push the glass cup away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away.” Anthony admits sheepishly, massaging at Ian’s back as the other man sits up straight.

“Yeah, I figured that after you licked the cum off my stomach.” Ian huffs breathlessly, playfully pushing at him as Anthony laughs at the carpet. It’s a miracle they can still joke around after having sex like this. All the signs of a good experience, he supposes, but now they’ve crossed too many lines to just get dressed and go back to business like usual.

Ian’s soft, but Anthony’s still hard, so there’s this hesitance at whether or not they should just keep going or not. He could, if the other one wanted, would willingly do anything Anthony wanted to go for. But Ian struggles so much with expressing what he wants that at this point, he wonders whether it’s best to just throw his clothes back on and go back to wondering about the future of their channel.

“How do you feel?” Ian offers blankly, running a hand through his own hair. He wishes now that they had done this in the bed instead. His sweaty body right on top of the fabric of the couches proved to be an uncomfortable and gross feeling.

“Way better, more than I thought I would be.” Anthony admits sheepishly. “It’s hard to explain, but my whole body just feels more…” He fidgets with his hands, struggling to find the words. “Alive? I guess? Kind of like that time we snuck out to that party at a sleepover and made it back right before my mom came to wake us up.”

Ian hums along, recalling the memory fondly. The air is quiet between them as the awkward parts about a hookup formed between them. Where did they go from here?

Even though he’s dead tired, gotten soft, and was two seconds away from just knocking out on the couch, Ian yearned for more with Anthony.

And unfortunately, judging by the uncomfortably hard dick in between Anthony’s legs, he had needed more too.

“I’m gonna go use the shower.” Anthony sighs, gently placing the glass of water on the abandoned coffee table next to them.

Ian nods, silent and still as the other man starts to make his way to the area where this whole mess started. He has a few seconds to make a decision on this, but it’s pretty easy to answer where his heart is within this whole fucked up situation.

“Wait.” Ian calls out to him, turning his body to the side in order to make proper eye contact with him. Anthony turns around, already grabbing onto Ian’s towel and using it as a shield to hide his own body. “Meet me in the bedroom.”

Anthony glows when he smiles, and it makes Ian’s heart soar when he’s the cause of said glow.

They rush to the room, and Ian barely closes the door behind them before Anthony has him pinned to the wall again, kissing him like his source of oxygen as his hands grope his ass. It’s good, it’s passionate, and he’s still in control of himself enough to be aware of the sharp teeth now located in his mouth.

“Need you so bad. Fuck, I feel like my balls are going to fall off, dude.” Anthony sighs as he lets go of Ian and leads them to the bed.

Ian ponders on their options before he follows along and places a pillow underneath where his stomach would be before he whips his head around, just to be sure. “You’re clean, right? I mean, I know how we got into this mess, but you never actually slept with the girl, did you?”

Anthony scrunches his nose in disgust at the mention of the hook-up that had caused this life changing event to happen. “Ugh, don’t kill my mood. All we did was kiss, we didn’t get any further because she bit the crap out of my neck.” He frowns, glaring down at the bedsheets like they’ve personally insulted him. Ian nods, satisfied by his answer, and by the fact that he doesn’t even care about this mystery girl anymore. Call it envy, jealousy, at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s helping him out through this mess.

“Just making sure!” He teases, huffing before he prepares to turn around. “This position okay? Or did you want to try something else?” Ian offers, talking in the same manner as they would when directing a scene, picking and choosing what angles work for the cameras. Only this time, they have no one to intrigue but themselves.

“Uh, this can work.” Anthony responds back, dumbfounded by the image in front of him as Ian practically offers himself to his best friend. As if he wasn’t the one taking advantage of Ian’s ass at every opportunity he could get.

“Just start slow,” Ian insists as he turns himself around, his dick brushing against the bottom of the pillow as he feels Anthony’s hands on him again. “I’ll try, but I’m starting to get desperate here, man.”

He rubs and teases at Ian’s hole, but he’d helped him so much earlier in the evening that it’s easy for the tip to slide in. He could’ve just ignored Ian’s pleas and begun thrusting his needs into him, but no, Anthony’s too kind, too caring, to let him be hurt in that way.

Ian’s quiet, his face is buried into the pillow that smells just like Anthony. He must only be halfway in, but it’s enough to get Ian feeling riled up again, his dick beneath him twitching, begging to get hard and come again. The noises he makes are so arousing to him, like this is the best he’s ever had, even though Ian knows he’s slept with other individuals before.

Anthony grips onto him as he bottoms out, unable to control the sounds out of his mouth. He moans unashamed, his hands holding onto Ian’s waist tightly. “Oh my god. I’m inside you. Ian, I’m inside.”

The blue eyed man huffs, two seconds away from deciding on whether or not he should just switch them up and ride Anthony instead. “No way. I can’t even feel it.”

He shouldn’t tease him in this position right now, because as soon as Ian thinks he’s in the clear to laugh at his own comment, Anthony pulls halfway out before slamming back in again. Involuntarily, Ian moans, a hand grasping at the sheets around him instinctively.

“Could you feel that?” Anthony huffs, beginning a comfortable pace above him. It shuts Ian up as his stomach flames with arousal at the situation. He can’t speak right now, not when Anthony and his strong body thrust into him so perfectly. In, out, in, out. It’s quick, hard, and so, so much more than his fingers.

When he receives no answer from Ian, he stops and pulls out nearly all the way until he gets one. “I’m waiting.” He huffs, manhandling his ass to grasp at how his dick looks above Ian’s hole. Ian whines, needy for more while Anthony brings his mouth to Ian’s shoulders, kissing the hot skin as he hums.

“I can feel it,” Ian blurts, as Anthony switches them to their sides, wrapping his arms around his waist in a more cuddly position as he thrusts again. “All of it.” Ian sighs as Anthony buries his face into his neck, mouth closed carefully as he moans. With the noises right next to Ian’s ear, he finds himself getting half hard again.

He’s faster in this position, gaining more access to Ian's body as they lay so close to one another. Needier too, as he begins mumbling sweet things under his breath and stroking Ian’s dick again.

“You feel so good–God, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this Ian. You don’t even know—” A good angle upwards, and Anthony finds Ian’s prostate, watching how he reacts before repeating that same angle again. Ian squirms against him, his hips moving in stimulation as Anthony continues making him lose his mind.

“Should’ve told me sooner, ngh, would’ve helped you deal with the issue before.” He admits, drooling at the corner of his mouth over Anthony’s relentless stamina.

Neither will recall who leaned in first, but at some point in the height of their intimacy, someone leans over and kisses the other, someone reciprocates back, and that’s how they end up with their tongues down each other’s throats as they’re having sex on a rental bed.

As best friends and business partners do, apparently.

Somehow, the kissing sounds like it’s getting Anthony off more than the actual sex part as his hips begin to stutter, his breath unsteady, and his grip on Ian’s body unrelenting. His calloused hand on Ian’s dick gets sloppy too; desperate, fast, and eager to make him come again.

“M’ gonna come inside you,” Anthony gasps, erratic as he pushes his face away from his skin. Just to be safe.

“Do it.” Ian warns, pushing back and forth between Anthony’s thrusts and rutting into his hand.

The room is quieter now, nothing but the sound of Anthony’s dick slamming against his skin and their shared moans as Anthony desperately finishes inside of Ian. This is the first time he’s had a guy come inside him, and although the feeling of his best friend finishing inside him is foreign, he doesn’t hate it. His prostate is overwhelmed with the abuse of it all, as Anthony continues rutting against him in small thrusts now. It’s not until Anthony manages to finish Ian off a few strokes later where he deems himself satisfied and finally stops. He shouts, overwhelmed over his second orgasm of the night as they proceed to lay together and bask in the afterglow.

Ian and Anthony remain attached at the hips for quite some time after that, quiet and gasping for their breath. He’s pretty sure Anthony’s come is oozing out of him too, but they’re just too comfortable to get up and move around.

“We have to clean up if you want to go back to sleep here.” Ian warns, tapping at Anthony’s arm as the other nods silently. Ian bites back a groan as Anthony makes the motion of pulling out, using his non-come-covered hand as they finally separate. He’s pretty sure he hears the other mumble something like ‘Fuck’ as he feels Anthony grab at him one last time, staying like that for a moment before getting up to the bathroom.

He returns a moment later with a wet rag as he proceeds to neatly clean Ian down, rubbing at his arm in support as the two of them share eye contact at the end of it all. Small smiles tug on their mouths again before Anthony leans down and pecks his swollen lips. “Do you need anything else?”

Ian shakes his head as he turns and grabs at the abandoned bedsheets Anthony tossed to the side when he woke up earlier. “Stay with me though? The couch sucks.”

He smiles, fangs and all, as he nods and takes this as an opportunity to be cuddled into Ian’s embrace, not that he minded, he’d always preferred to be the bigger spoon in his intimate moments. This way, Anthony would be able to feel more secure after what Ian hoped would be enough to satisfy him. At least for now.

They rearrange so Ian can hold him properly, their bodies relaxed and ready to go down for more rest. “Love you.” Anthony mumbles as Ian starts rubbing little shapes into the curve of his back. The weight of sleep hits them both as his eyes skim through the room, making sure of their safety against the light as the sun must be coming up around this point in time.

Despite everything that’s happened in the past week and all the things they’ve just done together with each other, Ian can’t bring himself to verbally say it back. It’s too much of an open wound for him to say those words out loud, even though he wants Anthony to know that he feels the same way in every type of love a person may share.

He brushes wavy hair out of Anthony’s forehead and angles his head awkwardly in order to lean down and kiss him there. Once, twice, and maybe again. Just because he can.

They’re twenty three right now, but one day, Ian will be thirty three, and Anthony will still remain this way. He doesn’t want to think about what the future would look like, with those consequences being implemented into place, but for now, at this moment, they’re together and well enough to get through tomorrow with their souls intertwined. Bonded for life literally and physically.

He’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.