Anesthesia
Title: Anesthesia
Pairing(s): Ian/Anthony -- one-sided-ish, Anthony/Kalel, very slight Ian/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut, suicidal thoughts, suicidal actions, self-harm in the form of cutting, drug use, alcoholism, smut, language, gay slang, very heavy angst
Summary: Anthony uses Ian. Ian must find a way to cope.
A/N: This is a very heavy story. Definitely not for the faint of heart. Also, this form of writing was inspired by the absolutely phenomenal orangefriday's fic: Distraction. Please, if you haven't (and I'm sure you have), go check her out. She is sure to not disappoint.
Ian isn’t quite sure when this thing between he and Anthony started, but it’s equally as aching as it is wonderful. He also isn’t sure why he puts up with it and why Anthony can’t seem to choose between him and whatever girl it is that he’s currently dating (or says that he’s dating).
He knows that what they do is wrong and it’s unfair to him and Kalel and even to Anthony himself, but it’s not like he can just simply stop it. It started so long ago (before Smosh even began) and Ian knows that he couldn’t end it, even if he wanted to. And a small part of him doesn’t want it to end. And he must be some kind of fucked up masochist because each and every time it happens, Ian loses a small piece of himself. And
Anthony’s a dick because he knows how much it hurts Ian to see him leave every goddamn morning after (but he doesn’t care).
*
Like tonight, after they’ve finished filming the newest Smosh video and Ian is getting ready to leave the Smosh house. He has his arms through his jacket and his car keys in his hands. He’s trying to leave quickly while Anthony’s in the bathroom so he doesn’t have to deal with Anthony’s pleading because, try as he might, he can’t say no to Anthony. He simply loves him too much.
He swallows hard when he hears Anthony’s footsteps creeping slowly up behind him. “You headin’ out?” he asks.
Ian slowly nods, not daring to look into his best friend’s umber-colored eyes because he knows that he’ll be done. He’ll have to stay.
“You can stay, you know,” Anthony whispers, pressing his lips to Ian’s neck.
And Ian stiffens, shutting his eyes and willing himself to have the strength to leave and not look back. “W-well, I should really get b-back to Daisy.”
Anthony sighs, blowing his hot breath onto Ian’s neck and collarbone. “Come on, Ian. Why don’t you just stay for the night? I’m only in Sacramento
for a couple days.”
“I-I’ll see you tomorrow, Ant,” Ian stammers, squirming away from him.
Anthony catches his wrist in his hand and grips tightly. “Come on, Ian.” He spins him around so that he’s facing him and Ian does what he swore he wouldn’t: he looks into Anthony’s eyes. The dark brown orbs are almost black and his pupils dilated from the lust that Ian knows is just coursing through his veins. “I want you to stay with me,” he says. This is more of an order, rather than a request. And Ian shuts his eyes before silently
nodding, accepting Anthony’s messy, lust-driven kiss. He knows that Anthony doesn’t love him, but he doesn’t care anymore. When Anthony kisses
him like that, he can’t breathe and his chest hurts, almost as if his heart will split in two. He feels as though his heart is pounding so hard that his
ribs will break.
Once again, he lets Anthony fuck him into the sheets without so much as a thank you. (And Ian wakes up alone).
*
Ian can’t have a real relationship with Anthony around because he’s always there. Anthony knows that Ian’s gay, too, but that doesn’t stop him from making snide remarks whenever Ian gets a boyfriend. Ian can’t even jokingly flirt with Lasercorn during Game Bangs (Lasercorn’s married, to a
woman nonetheless so why does it matter?) and whenever he genuinely likes a guy (not a lot because unfortunately, no one can take Anthony’s
place), Anthony’s right there, telling Ian why he sucks.
Like his current boyfriend, Brian. He was cute and tall with brown hair and brown eyes and he enjoyed playing Mario Games and eating a
vegetarian diet (and therefore is different from Anthony because Anthony’s a vegan, or at least that’s what Ian keeps telling himself). Ian brings him
to LA to have lunch with Peter and Mari and who should they run into but Anthony and Kalel (who insist they join them). As soon as Brian gets up to
use the bathroom, Anthony begins to blatantly insult him (despite Kalel’s failing attempts to shush him). Ian leaves with Brian in a huff (but breaks
up with him the next day).
Mari yells at him and calls Melanie, who comes all the way from New York City to yell at him, too (but she understands better than Mari and offers
him a shoulder to cry on). But even then she leaves and he’s left alone to try and figure out what the hell it is that Anthony’s doing.
*
Ian decides to try and tell Anthony of his true feelings. After they’ve filmed a new Smosh video and the crew’s gone home (and after Anthony’s fucked him once again), Ian turns to Anthony in the bed. His eyes are closed but Ian knows he’s awake because he’s not snoring. He looks beautiful and Ian hopes and prays that he feels the same way.
“Anthony,” he whispers softly, stirring the older man gently.
“Yeah?” Anthony shoots back, his eyes still closed.
Ian stops, unsure of how to begin this. He’s felt this way about Anthony since high school and he’s hidden it for that long, too. It worries him, makes
him feel uneasy, this prospect of change (Ian hates change).
“W-what are we doing?” he finally asks, voice quavering.
Anthony shrugs. “What are you talking about?”
Ian has to bite his tongue (because damn it, Anthony knows exactly what the fuck he’s talking about) and he says, “you have Kalel…so why do you need me, too?”
Anthony snorts. “I don’t need you, Ian. You’re my best friend and that’s it.”
“Then…why do you always wanna fuck me when you come visit?” These words spill out of his mouth before he can stop himself and he waits for
Anthony’s explosion of anger (he waits to be punched in the mouth).
But there’s nothing but silence.
Finally, Anthony sighs. “We don’t talk about that, Ian.” He says this as if Ian should already know that (he does).
“But Anthony,” Ian tries again, “i-it’s not fair. I mean, I have genuine feelings. Fuck, I love you. And we don’t talk about it?”
Anthony shakes his head in disgust. “Shut the fuck up, Ian. You don’t love me. I don’t love you. That’s it.”
Ian wants to tell Anthony that he can’t tell him how to feel, that he doesn’t understand why Anthony’s so mean to him when they’re supposed to be
best friends. He wants to yell at him, to tell him to leave and never come back. (He wants to tell him to stay, he wants to kiss him.)
But he does none of it.
He turns away from Anthony and sleeps.
*
Ian decides that he can never let Anthony go. He loves him with all of his heart and his soul (even though Anthony doesn’t love him, too).
Sometimes it gets to be too much, though, and he has to find ways to deal with his grief.
Alcohol only numbs for a while; drugs are too dangerous (and after a short stint in the hospital, he learns he can’t risk them). Boxing and breathing
exercises are menial (and who the fuck’s idea was that, anyway?). Only his friend the blade helps him at all (and this is pretty pathetic, too).
At first, there were only jagged lines on the insides of his thighs, a place no one will see (except Anthony, but he doesn’t care). He soon graduates
to his wrist and chest. His wrist is soon covered with Anthony’s name in fading scar tissue (he starts wearing sweaters to cover them). It doesn’t
ease the pain as much as Ian’s read it’s supposed to, but it’s enough to numb him for a while (it gives him something to do besides cry and sulk).
There’s always razors or knives or scissors to sanitize, clothes to wash, floors to mop up, counters to swipe, wounds to clean and bandage, and
sometimes there’s even broken glass to throw away (that’s only happened a couple times). Then he can settle in with Daisy, a glass of wine, and
Netflix. He can kick his feet up and get lost in whatever show it is that he’s binge-watching (until he has to go to bed, where there is only cold sheets).
*
One night, Anthony comes in drunk and crying. He and Kalel have broken up and Ian knows that it’s for good (Anthony and Kalel don’t play the petty break up game).
“She th-thinks I love you,” Anthony slurs, after Ian gets him settled on the sofa.
Ian’s heart flutters in his chest. If Kalel noticed and told Anthony about it, maybe he’d come to his senses.
Anthony laughs, an ugly, twisted laugh that reverberates throughout the room. “I’m not a fucking faggot.”
Ian wants to throw him out of the house. He wants to scream and yell at him, ask him why he thinks it’s okay to treat Ian the way he does. But he
just stands there, lip quivering and eyes watering. He doesn’t say anything.
Anthony laughs again, settling down on the sofa. “I’m not like you, Ian. I don’t l-like guys that way. It’s sick.”
Ian silently nods, letting tears slide down his cheeks. He doesn’t say a word.
The taller man finally stands up and walks over to Ian. He looks him square in the eye as Ian brushes away the tears and sniffs. He tries to do this
as covertly as possible, but he knows that Anthony knows he’s crying (and he also knows that he’s the cause). “Stop it,” he barks, grabbing Ian’s shoulders.
Ian swallows hard as Anthony presses his lips to his own (but he doesn’t love Ian, does he?)
When Ian doesn’t kiss Anthony back, Anthony punches him.
Ian falls to the floor, clutching his cheek. Anthony releases a string of drunken curse words as he rushes towards the front door, leaving to God
knows where. Maybe he’ll call an Uber, maybe he’ll drive himself (he’s drunk and it’s dangerous, but Ian doesn’t care at this point).
It takes all of his will-power to not cry in front of Anthony. His whole life has been devoted to him. He’s given up his freedoms and rights just to
please his best friend, beaten into submission by his feelings for him. Anthony had used them to his advantage, utilizing Ian whenever he wanted
and because Ian loved him, he couldn’t say no. But tonight, he wouldn’t give Anthony any power. (He would cry but) he wouldn’t cry in front of
Anthony.
He waits until Anthony’s gone and he stumbles to his bathroom, tears finally cascading down his cheeks. Anthony’s right, he is just a fag. He’s
stupid and disgusting and that’s all he’ll ever be. No matter what happens, Anthony will never love him and he’ll never be anything more to him than
a quick, easy fuck (even if that does mean there’s more to Anthony than he lets on). No. Ian’s nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Tonight, he skips the blades and goes straight for the pills.
*
He wakes up in a Sacramento hospital (because he was stupid again and didn’t take a lethal amount). However, he still had his stomach pumped, just to be sure. He was found by a good friend very early that morning, the nurse told him (which is why he’s surprised to see Anthony sleeping in a chair beside his bed.
He’s probably hungover, but not drunk anymore and for that Ian is thankful (and also disappointed). He doesn’t want to deal with the repercussions
that will come with what he had tried to do.
Much to his chagrin (and joy) Anthony wakes up soon after he does. He gives him a sad smile and says, “I’m sorry, Ian.”
Ian wants to cry again, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stares down at his hands.
“I fucked up - a thousand times,” Anthony murmurs.
Yes, Ian wants to say, you did.
Anthony shakes his head, sighing. “I’m…I’m a fucking idiot, Ian. I’m so sorry. I…,” he trails off.
Finally, Ian speaks. “It’s okay,” he says quietly. He wants to scream at him and tell him how he really feels, but Anthony does it for him.
“I’m a fucking idiot. I’m the worst best friend ever, the worst fiancé ever, the worst business partner ever…fuck, I’m just the worst person ever. Ian, you love me so much - and you shouldn’t. You’ve done so much for me and I use you…,” he coughs. “And I’m sorry I called you a faggot, too. In reality, I really wanted to call myself one.”
Ian’s ears perk up at this.
Anthony’s eyes lock with Ian’s. “Fuck, Ian. I love you, too. I always have. But there was Kalel and Smosh and my family and it…it was you. You’re
my best friend. But I’ve always had these feelings for you, so when I figured out you loved me, too, I thought if we fucked just once, I could get it out
of my system…but that only made me want you more. And you were willing to oblige, so I figured, why not? It only made things worse, though.
“I understand if you never want to speak to me again, especially considering I knew you were cutting and drinking and I didn’t do anything to help
you. I was scared, I guess. And when Kalel broke up with me because she was convinced that I love you, I just snapped. I had absolutely no right
in the world to put a hand on you like that and I…,” he trails off, as tears begin to stream down his face.
Soon, Ian notices Anthony’s weeping turning into loud, wracking sobs that emanate throughout his room and his shoulders tremble.
“I forgive you,” Ian finally says, placing a weak, scarred hand on his best friend’s shoulder.
Anthony’s tear-stained face looks up at him and if he weren’t so numb, he might have felt a pang of sympathy (but he doesn’t).
Anthony has long ago ripped all sense of feeling away from him.
“Y-you do?” Anthony asks.
Ian nods. “I do.”
He does this because they both need closure (they both need to let this go). He wants Anthony (maybe now Anthony wants him), and it’s honestly
easier than what he really wants to say.
He lets Anthony take his hand and smile at him (he pretends to smile back).
He wants to tell Anthony that he’s scum, that he doesn’t deserve him after everything he’s put him through (but he doesn’t).
Because in the end, Anthony’s all that really matters (right?).