Sleepy, Ian?
Okay, here goes. My First Anthony POV! I always do Ian's, but in this story he's pretty much unconscious the whole time XD
I owe credit to ashley_marie811 and orangefriday for the idea! I just couldn't help myself from writing this ^-^
Now, I wrote this in like two hours, in the middle of the night, so I apologize for it possibly being awful XD I just really wanted to write a little short story. So, yeah! Enjoy :3
Title: Sleepy, Ian?
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: If I owned Smosh, this would be their newest video. So tell me, do I own Smosh?
Summary: Anthony acts as sleepy Ian’s big brother as he lets him sleep and helps him to bed. When Ian starts to talk in his sleep, though, will Anthony look at him as something other than a brother?
Sleepy, Ian?
I sat in my old leather chair, staring at the computer screen, tired after hours of editing. I finished adding a transition between scenes and sighed.
“Hey, Lazy ass, I could use some help you know! I did the last three scenes, your turn,” I said in a mumble, a palm flat against my chin. I looked over to see Ian asleep, his head propped up somewhat by his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair. I grinned at him, seeing the goofy look on his face; dorky bowl haircut messed up, his mouth slightly open, cheek smooshed against his fist. I reached over to smack his arm out from under his head, causing him to slump over and wake up, but stopped halfway. Ian had been wicked tired, and he looked pretty peaceful. It was cute.
Cute? Scratch that. That sounded gay. I shook off the thought and dropped my arm, sighing. I decided to be a good friend let Ian sleep,(Well, maybe a little bit because I liked seeing him asleep) and finish the editing himself. Every few minutes I found myself glancing at him, checking to make sure my typing didn’t wake him. I couldn’t help but blush slightly every time I looked at him.
Around Five AM, I’d finally gotten through enough editing to take a break and get some rest. I tweeted about Ian, smiling and shaking my head, thinking Ian was such a little kid. After stretching out and rubbing my eyes, stinging from staring at the screen, I turned to leave the room, then looked down at Ian. He was in an awkward position; he’d definitely be sore when he woke up if he stayed there too long.
No, Anthony, just go to bed, I thought, but couldn’t make myself keep walking. After a few moments, I sighed heavily and walked over to the chair. I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave him there, so I just gave in before arguing with myself too much. I nudged his shoulder first, getting no response and rolling my eyes.
“Ian? Ian, wake up, man,” I whispered. Still nothing. I grunted and grabbed under his arms, slowly pulling him up off the computer chair. His body fell against mine, his head resting on my shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, and he groaned slightly, confused and looking around. “Hey, man. You fell asleep. Let’s go to bed,” Closing his eyes again, he let his head fall back on my shoulder, and put more of his weight on me, his chest against mine. I laughed at how much of a little kid he acted like. “What do you want me to do, carry you?” Sleepy, bright blue eyes looked up at mine, our faces inches apart.
“Muh-huh,” he mumbled, smiling slightly. Once again, he let his head loll onto my shoulder, and closed his eyes. I chuckled, still recovering from my momentary daze; those eyes could make me do anything, I swear.
“If you say so,” I said, grinning, and spun him around, scooping him up in my arms, one arm under his legs and one under his back. I carried him down the hall like a newly wed husband, smiling and laughing the whole time. I dropped him onto his bed, not knowing he was clinging onto my arm, and fell onto the bed with him.
Ian rolled onto his side facing me, and curled into a ball, snuggling up to a blanket beside him with closed eyes. I stayed laying next to him for a while, watching his chest rise and fall with even breaths, seeing his lips twitch into a slight smirk as he started to dream. I wondered what he was dreaming of. Eventually, he started talking in his sleep; just mumbles and words I couldn’t make out.
I leaned in, almost nose to nose with him, and whispered, “Goodnight, man,”
In response as I started to get up, he mumbled, “An, Anthony,” and one of his arms reached out, searching until it found my arm and weakly tried to pull me back down. I rolled my eyes and smiled, laying back down next to him. “Anthony…love…love you,” he mumbled, arm feeling around my face, my chest, my stomach. I felt my self blushing deeply, watching Ian’s mouth curve into a smile. I guessed I pretty much knew what he was dreaming about.
A long moan escaped him, and he curled his fingers in, grabbing the bottom of my shirt. I brushed my fingers across his forehead, swiping away his honey brown hair. Watching the expressions his face formed made me wish I was having that dream. Looking at him, I didn’t think he looked cute anymore. The feeling in the pit of my stomach and thoughts running through my head made me stop thinking of him as a little kid; only pedophiles thought this way about kids.
I pulled myself up to him, our lips a fraction of an inch apart, and breathed, “I love you too, Ian,”
I quietly got up and left the room, making sure he didn’t wake up. I knew he liked me, he didn’t know I knew, or that I felt the same; I was going to have fun with this.
Ta da :D What did ya think? I'm def. open for con crit! I'd love it if you have any, I don't get offended (:
P.S. if you don't say you loved it Ian shall hate Anthony froever MWAHAHA..Just Kidding ;) <33333
Again, this was written in a rush, so yeah. Not my best. Okbaii(:<33
I owe credit to ashley_marie811 and orangefriday for the idea! I just couldn't help myself from writing this ^-^
Now, I wrote this in like two hours, in the middle of the night, so I apologize for it possibly being awful XD I just really wanted to write a little short story. So, yeah! Enjoy :3
Title: Sleepy, Ian?
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: If I owned Smosh, this would be their newest video. So tell me, do I own Smosh?
Summary: Anthony acts as sleepy Ian’s big brother as he lets him sleep and helps him to bed. When Ian starts to talk in his sleep, though, will Anthony look at him as something other than a brother?
Sleepy, Ian?
I sat in my old leather chair, staring at the computer screen, tired after hours of editing. I finished adding a transition between scenes and sighed.
“Hey, Lazy ass, I could use some help you know! I did the last three scenes, your turn,” I said in a mumble, a palm flat against my chin. I looked over to see Ian asleep, his head propped up somewhat by his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair. I grinned at him, seeing the goofy look on his face; dorky bowl haircut messed up, his mouth slightly open, cheek smooshed against his fist. I reached over to smack his arm out from under his head, causing him to slump over and wake up, but stopped halfway. Ian had been wicked tired, and he looked pretty peaceful. It was cute.
Cute? Scratch that. That sounded gay. I shook off the thought and dropped my arm, sighing. I decided to be a good friend let Ian sleep,(Well, maybe a little bit because I liked seeing him asleep) and finish the editing himself. Every few minutes I found myself glancing at him, checking to make sure my typing didn’t wake him. I couldn’t help but blush slightly every time I looked at him.
Around Five AM, I’d finally gotten through enough editing to take a break and get some rest. I tweeted about Ian, smiling and shaking my head, thinking Ian was such a little kid. After stretching out and rubbing my eyes, stinging from staring at the screen, I turned to leave the room, then looked down at Ian. He was in an awkward position; he’d definitely be sore when he woke up if he stayed there too long.
No, Anthony, just go to bed, I thought, but couldn’t make myself keep walking. After a few moments, I sighed heavily and walked over to the chair. I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave him there, so I just gave in before arguing with myself too much. I nudged his shoulder first, getting no response and rolling my eyes.
“Ian? Ian, wake up, man,” I whispered. Still nothing. I grunted and grabbed under his arms, slowly pulling him up off the computer chair. His body fell against mine, his head resting on my shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, and he groaned slightly, confused and looking around. “Hey, man. You fell asleep. Let’s go to bed,” Closing his eyes again, he let his head fall back on my shoulder, and put more of his weight on me, his chest against mine. I laughed at how much of a little kid he acted like. “What do you want me to do, carry you?” Sleepy, bright blue eyes looked up at mine, our faces inches apart.
“Muh-huh,” he mumbled, smiling slightly. Once again, he let his head loll onto my shoulder, and closed his eyes. I chuckled, still recovering from my momentary daze; those eyes could make me do anything, I swear.
“If you say so,” I said, grinning, and spun him around, scooping him up in my arms, one arm under his legs and one under his back. I carried him down the hall like a newly wed husband, smiling and laughing the whole time. I dropped him onto his bed, not knowing he was clinging onto my arm, and fell onto the bed with him.
Ian rolled onto his side facing me, and curled into a ball, snuggling up to a blanket beside him with closed eyes. I stayed laying next to him for a while, watching his chest rise and fall with even breaths, seeing his lips twitch into a slight smirk as he started to dream. I wondered what he was dreaming of. Eventually, he started talking in his sleep; just mumbles and words I couldn’t make out.
I leaned in, almost nose to nose with him, and whispered, “Goodnight, man,”
In response as I started to get up, he mumbled, “An, Anthony,” and one of his arms reached out, searching until it found my arm and weakly tried to pull me back down. I rolled my eyes and smiled, laying back down next to him. “Anthony…love…love you,” he mumbled, arm feeling around my face, my chest, my stomach. I felt my self blushing deeply, watching Ian’s mouth curve into a smile. I guessed I pretty much knew what he was dreaming about.
A long moan escaped him, and he curled his fingers in, grabbing the bottom of my shirt. I brushed my fingers across his forehead, swiping away his honey brown hair. Watching the expressions his face formed made me wish I was having that dream. Looking at him, I didn’t think he looked cute anymore. The feeling in the pit of my stomach and thoughts running through my head made me stop thinking of him as a little kid; only pedophiles thought this way about kids.
I pulled myself up to him, our lips a fraction of an inch apart, and breathed, “I love you too, Ian,”
I quietly got up and left the room, making sure he didn’t wake up. I knew he liked me, he didn’t know I knew, or that I felt the same; I was going to have fun with this.
Ta da :D What did ya think? I'm def. open for con crit! I'd love it if you have any, I don't get offended (:
P.S. if you don't say you loved it Ian shall hate Anthony froever MWAHAHA..Just Kidding ;) <33333
Again, this was written in a rush, so yeah. Not my best. Okbaii(:<33