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Anthony laid back in his sleeping bag, listening to the sounds of crickets from the open window. His head was spinning from all the beer he'd drank earlier, and Ian was already half-passed out on the bed. He hoped that his parents wouldn't come into the room any time before noon the next day; he was far too tired and far too drunk to clean up the debris of empty beer bottles that littered the room.
Anthony had been getting drunk with Ian a lot lately. If he was honest with himself, he was hoping that Ian would drunkenly let something slip, some sign that he returned the feelings that Anthony had been hiding from him for so long. He could swear that it had almost happened once; they'd been sitting on the floor, somehow only inches apart, and their eyes had locked. Anthony had just begun to lean in when Ian had pitched forward and vomited all over Anthony's lap.
That had been almost two months ago, but Anthony still wasn't giving up. He was inviting Ian over nearly every weekend, and most of his money was going towards beer. He hoped that it would all be worth it someday, but he was starting to doubt it.
"Anthony?" Ian called weakly from the bed.
"Yeah?" Anthony replied, sitting up. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he groaned.
"I have to piss," Ian murmured.
Anthony glanced over at him. "Want me to help you to the bathroom, then?"
Ian shook his head. "If I try to stand up I'll pass out."
Anthony didn't doubt that. Ian's words were so slurred that he could hardly understand them.
Anthony untangled himself from his sleeping bag and stood up shakily, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Ian.
"You okay?" he asked, ruffling Ian's hair.
"I might've had too much beer," Ian replied, smiling weakly. He sounded like a was on the verge of falling asleep.
Anthony laughed softly. "You're cute," he said. The words slipped from his mouth so easily in his intoxicated state. He supposed it didn't matter; Ian wouldn't remember any of this in the morning.
"You're cute too," Ian replied, a soft smile on his face. It took Anthony a moment to realize what Ian had said. When he did, a grin spread across his face, and he did the only think he could think of; he leaned down to kiss him.
Ian's lips were soft and warm as they moved against his own. His mouth tasted like beer, but Anthony didn't mind. He slipped his tongue deeper into Ian's open mouth, smiling into the kiss as he heard Ian hum contentedly.
It seemed like hours had passed before Ian pulled away, but in reality it was probably only a few minutes.
"Anthony?" he whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm gonna piss myself."
Anthony couldn't help but laugh. "Go ahead," he murmured, kissing Ian's cheek.
Ian nodded and leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes. He let out a soft sigh and a few seconds later, a wet spot appeared on the front of his jeans. Anthony just smiled, absentmindedly slipping a hand under Ian's shirt to rub his stomach as he released the contents of his bladder. The wet spot on Ian's jeans darkened and spread across his thighs, and Anthony had an insane urge to reach out and cup Ian's crotch in his hand, to feel the flow of warm liquid against his palm. He briefly wondered where that thought had come from, before pushing it to the back of his mind. He continued to rub Ian's abdomen, and Ian let out a small moan as he continued to relieve himself.
Finally, the flow of urine seemed to stop.
"You done?" Anthony asked gently.
Ian nodded. "Sorry about your bed," he murmured, smiling sheepishly.
"Don't worry about it," Anthony replied. "Come on, let's get you out of those wet jeans."
Ian nodded weakly, his eyes slipping shut. Anthony unbuttoned and unzipped Ian's pants, tugging them off along with his boxers. He couldn't help staring at Ian's body a little bit; he'd seen him naked before, but after that kiss it seemed oddly new and exciting.
He shook his head, clearing away those thoughts as best as possible. He gently rolled Ian over, tugging the soaked blankets out from underneath him. The sheets underneath were still dry, thankfully. Anthony tossed the blanket and Ian's clothes into the laundry hamper and grabbed a clean pair of pajama pants off the floor. By the time he got back to the bed, Ian was passed out.
Anthony shook his head fondly and wriggled Ian's sleeping body into the pajama pants as best he could. They were a couple of inches too short, but he was too drunk to care. He turned the light off and climbed into bed next to Ian, pulling the sheet over them. On an impulse, he curled around Ian from behind, spooning him loosely. It felt nice; Ian's body was warm and solid against his chest.
"I love you, Ian," he whispered into Ian's hair. The words might've surprised him if he wasn't so exhausted, but right now he was sure that he'd known that all along.
As he was drifting off, he heard movement beside him, and Ian's hand suddenly wrapped around his own, their fingers lacing together tightly.
Anthony fell asleep with a smile on his face.