six. There are many reasons Anthony doesn't get drunk. One, he hates the taste of alcohol. It's bitter and the only bearable way to drink it is in a fruity mixed drink. You know, the ones he sees shared on facebook with the (He loves those.) Two, he is absolutely a lightweight and always overestimates the amount of Bloody Mary's he can drink without being completely and totally incoherent. There's definitely a third, but Anthony can't remember it right now. He's rambling to Ian, who's seated on the couch. Anthony had been invited to a party and since Ian doesn't really do parties, he declined to be Anthony's plus one, so Ian took Mari. (Unfortunately, Mari is more of a lightweight than Anthony is.) But thank God for Joven, being …show more content…
He doesn't know why Ian is speaking French, did he understand what he said?cccccccccccccccccccccccccccc0 n;vc9;=nm[ wnbncvbnwefghxzw;]hyjuetuuuuuuuub2e78y74566666dyu7677777777777776ZS0= "Did... you understand what I said?" Anthony says, and it's weak and shaky, but it's exactly how he feels in that moment. Adrenaline surges up through his veins in the worst way, prickling in fear. He backs away from Ian, slowly, as not to scare him. "Oui." He says, and he's smiling, but Anthony doesn't get it. Is there some kind of joke he's not getting? Why would he smile about his best friend telling him he wants to kiss him? How long has he been... presumably learning French? Why would he do that? He has so many questions but the fight or flight instinct is just too strong to resist right now. "Pardon, I'll just... go." Anthony mumbles, and he's not gonna cry because he doesn't do that, he's so embarrassed and his face is bright red. Ian grabs his arm and if he doesn't leave now, he's not gonna be able to hold himself together anymore. "Where do you think you're going?" Ian sounds... Anthony can't quite make out how he sounds, quite frankly, because the blood in his head is just positively …show more content…
Anthony turns around to face him, refusing to meet his eyes because the thing he thought he'd been so cleverly hiding... isn't so hidden anymore. "Anthony, look at me." Ian says softly, and it's a pleading tone that makes the taller man's head snap up in an instant. He's getting closer and closer and Anthony can't breathe and his chest is caving in and voices in his head simultaneously chant go away and please come closer. His head is a hurricane of what the fuck but he's rooted to the spot, he's frozen. "Maybe I wanted to kiss you, too." Ian says, so quietly he's questioning whether or not he heard him correctly because there is no way in hell he heard that right. This doesn't happen to Anthony. He's dreaming and any minute he's gonna wake up- (But he doesn't. He's here and he's awake.) Soft, softer lips than he could've ever imagined are on his. Anthony's body reacts before his brain, winding his arms around Ian and grabbing his back, fisting a hand in the back of his sweater and letting the other one trail up to rest on the nape of his neck. Holy shit Holy shit