Story Note: Rated M for language and light sexual themes. Ian/Anthony (Ianthony). Don't like, don't read.

Those Damn Handcuffs!
by. xxBurningxx

"Alright, cut! That's it for today!"

As if on queue, everyone stopped what they were doing and began packing up. People rustled around, goodbyes were said, and slowly people made their way out of the house.

"Okay, so we don't need these any more, right?" Anthony asked, glancing at the temporary video director for Smosh's newest video, whom was picking up some of the props they had used. It had been a long day of filming in a foreign house, and everyone was looking forward to getting home. The director looked at them impatiently and they could tell he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Ian lifted his arm to better indicate what they were talking about, and Anthony's wrist was tugged along with the motion.

"Hey, watch it dude," he mumbled, holding his arm up with his own strength so as to not hurt his wrist.

"Sorry," Ian replied.

The pair of metallic hand cuffs that bound their wrists together shined in the lighting. It was their new "SMOSH GETS ARRESTED!" video that they had been planning to do for months. The last scene they'd filmed was especially difficult get down, as both of them frequently moved their arms the wrong way by accident, pulling on the others arm and making movement jerky and not useable for the video. Overall, it had been a tedious filming session to end the day with. It would make for a funny blooper video at least.

Recognition flashed in the directors eyes and he looked around. "Yeah, let me find the key for those. Just a sec. They're around here somewhere." He dug around in a bag by the door, looked on the shelves, even ran upstairs for a few minutes. After a good five minutes, the two men sat down on the couch waiting. The sun was sinking below the horizon and Anthony could feel his eyes drooping with sleepiness. Ian found himself conflicted with the same issue, slowly drifting off to unconsciousness as they waiting for their director to come back downstairs.

A voice snapped both of them out of their haze of tiredness.

"Uhm...guys..." The director came down the stairs and looked at them with an expression of uncertainty. He shifted from foot to foot, looking nervous.

"Huh, what is it?" Ian asked, his voice thick and slightly slurred. He was really looking forward to going home, having a quick bite to eat, and going to bed. It would be nice and peaceful; then they would be rested and ready to film the next day. His fantasy's bubble was busted a few moments later.

"I...can't seem to find the keys," he mumbled, not looking at either of them.

"Uh, what?" Anthony asked, staring at him. There was a part of his mind that was positive the director was just messing around with them. People joked around with them a lot, so it wouldn't be unusual if it were a prank.

"They might be in here somewhere, but...I'm not sure but I think one of the guys must have left with them already. I vaguely remember tossing them in the large black prop bag, which I saw David leave with a little while ago."

"Dude, why the hell would you put them in the prop bag?" Ian asked, a hint of anger leaking into his voice. He raised his arms to emphasis his frustration, forgetting about the main issue of conflict in the first place, violently pulling Anthony's arm.

"Ow, seriously, watch it!"

The director scratched his head and looked around awkwardly, slowly moving towards the door. "Listen, guys...I gotta get going. My wife and kids are waiting on me."

"Uh, what about us?" Anthony deadpanned. It had taken him a few moments to realize just what was happening. No way. Nope. There was no way in hell that he was going to go an entire night handcuffed to his best friend.

"Yeah you can't just leave us like this."

"It's just for tonight guys. We'll find those keys the moment we get here tomorrow. It'll be fine. Really, I have to go now." The words fell from the director's in a jumbled rush, and he practically leaped towards the door. Perhaps it was because he could feel the negative aura radiating from the two men on the couch.

"Are you fucking serious?" Anthony exclaimed, standing up suddenly. For a split moment, Ian's arm was pulled up so painfully he jumped up on impulse too.

The director glanced back once more, shrugged apologetically and mumbled something like, "you'll manage," and then darted out the door. Soon afterwards, they heard a car engine start outside and then it was gone. Now only a few people were left milling around, packing up. Anthony felt his left eye twitch in annoyance.

"You have got to be fucking kidding." Ian grumbling, using his free right hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "What the hell are we going to do?" He asked, glancing at the handcuffs then up at Anthony.

He shrugged in response. "I guess we should just...get going. If the keys really are in the prop bag, then there's no point in waiting around here." They started towards the door and got a few strange looks from the remaining people at the house; they were probably wondering why they hadn't taken the cuffs off yet. As they were approaching the car, a realization hit Ian.

"Oh shit. We brought my car."

"Yeah, and?" Anthony asked, raising an eyebrow. Then he realized what that meant. Ian would have to drive, since he still wasn't very good with a standard, and there was no way he'd be able to drive in the dark. The handcuffs were attached to Ian's left wrist. He laughed and brought his right hand up to his face. "Aww man, this is going to be awkward."

Anthony opened the car door and sat down, then crawled over the center console into the passenger seat. Ian held his arm out, trying to keep the painful tugging to a minimum. After Anthony had adjusted himself, Ian he sat down and shut the door. The entire drive home, Anthony had to lean over with his right arm held out so that Ian could drive without them crashing.

"Ahhhhh this is really hurting my arm," he said in a whiny tone. Ian said something about his wrist being sore, but Anthony didn't really register what he said. Sleepiness was creeping into his mind again, and before he knew it, his eyes had fallen shut, resting. In a few moments, his body went slack and due to his position, his head crashed into Ian's shoulder.

"Woah, what the fuck?" Ian shouted, eyes still on the road but trying to shrug him off. Anthony's eyes shot open and he sat back up, rubbing his face with his other hand.

"Sorry. I'm just really tired."

When they got home, they apathetically ate what they could scrounge up. Their dinner ended up being a skimpy few slices of left-over pizza. After the initial shock and annoyance about the handcuffs had died down and they were alone, talking was easier. They laughed over their microwave-heated pizza just like normal, and if it hadn't been for their bound wrists, nothing would be amiss.

"This is ridiculous," Ian said, glancing down at the handcuffs.

Anthony nodded and rolled his eyes. "We're going to have to kick that director's ass tomorrow."

In the back of both their heads, they knew what was coming up, but neither of them had the guts to bring it up at the table. The mere thought of it made Anthony's heart thump nervously and he fought down the images flickering around in his head. A blush threatened to push its way onto his cheeks and he tried to keep that down too. Anthony had told himself time and time again that these feelings were unnatural to feel around his best friend, but he brushed it off for the thousandth time.

"Ugh I'm so tired," Ian sighed, finishing the last of his pizza crust. He laid his head on the table.

"Same here. I swear that guy they hired to run into the street had no idea what he was doing."

He didn't reply, so Anthony finished his pizza in silence, thinking about their situation. Who's idea was it to use real handcuffs? They should have used the kid ones, with the latch to unlock them on the handcuffs themselves. But nope, the idea never crossed anyone's mind, and now here they were. Two grown men paying the price.

While he was pondering over it, he heard a soft sigh across from him. He looked up wnd saw Ian with his eyes closed, right cheek pressed against the black surface of the table. A small smile flickered across Anthony's face at the sight. Something about the scene struck him as adorable. Shaking his head and mentally smacking himself for even thinking that, Anthony stood up, careful so as to not move Ian's arm and disturb him. He walked around the table and gently placed a hand on Ian's shoulder, shaking it slightly. "Come on man, let's go to sleep."

"Hmm?" Ian mumbled groggily, looking up at Anthony. "Oh, okay."

By the time that they reached Anthony's room, Ian had woken up enough to protest. "Wait, why are we in your room?"

"Uh, handcuffs, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Ian deadpanned, glancing at the bed from time to time as though it were a monster about to pounce on him. "Well...I could sleep on the floor and you could sleep on the edge of the bed..?"

Anthony stared at him incredulously. "Okay, for one, your left hand and my right one would make it incredibly more uncomfortable than it already is. And two, don't be stupid. You're not sleeping on the ground."

"But-"

"Look, it's fine. Just, it'll be like the Easy-Bake Oven episode. I stay on my side and you stay on yours. Fully clothed, no problem right?"

"We weren't actually sleeping the whole night in that episode, nor were we handcuffed!" Ian protested, throwing up his left arm in exaggeration.

"Dude, what's the big deal? Just get in the bed."

"No."

"Ian, get in the bed. I want to go to sleep."

"No!" Ian stood his ground, refusing to move a muscle. If he could have crossed his arms, he would have.

"Damn it, get in the bed!"

"Make me."

"Fine!" Anthony could feel his tolerance for Ian's stubbornness push over the edge and snap. He grabbed Ian's free wrist and started shoving him towards the mattress.

"Hey, what the fuck?" Ian gasped in shock, trying to twist his way out of Anthony's grasp. He hadn't actually expected him to do something. Ian kept pulling away and Anthony continuously pushed him towards the bed. He couldn't exactly run away either.

"Just give up!" Anthony grit through his teeth, gripping both of Ian's wrists tightly.

"I'm not sleeping in the same bed as you!"

They fought with each other until Anthony finally managed to push him close to the bed. For what felt like the millionth time, he made a grab for Ian's wrist but at the last moment, instead of actually latching on, Anthony used his body weight to push Ian back on to the bed. He yelped in surprise at suddenly being on his back, but he didn't give up.

But after a few moments Ian couldn't deny that Anthony was heavier than him. Both of their handcuffed wrists stung from the tugging and pulling.

Anthony found both of Ian's wrists and once he was sure he had a good grip, he pulled Ian's arms up above his head, using his weight to pin him down. He adjusted himself until his knees were on either side of his hips to ensure he wouldn't escape again.

They were both panting heavily and Anthony looked down at his best friend whom had a look of helplessness and defeat on his face. Ian's face was flushed heavily and Anthony had no doubt that his cheeks were fiery red too. "Give up?"

Ian glared at him but said nothing.

"Thought so." Anthony couldn't keep the smirk from breaking out on his face. Cautiously, he loosened his grip on Ian's wrists and rolled off onto his back. "So are you done now?" He asked, rolling on his side to face his friend, whom was staring up at the ceiling, refusing to look at him.

"Humph."

They laid in silence for a few moments as their breathing slowed down to normal. Anthony snickered.

"What?"

"We still have to turn off the lights."

Anthony stared a the ceiling. Moonlight gently streamed into the room through the window, casting a soft glow on his face and the sleeping figure besides him. Despite how tired he was, every time he closed his eyes, thoughts of the day's earlier events swam through his head. If you had told him a day ago that he would be sleeping in the same bed and handcuffed to his best friend, he wouldn't have believed you.

But here he was, in that exact scenario. He shifted in his spot, unable to find a position that felt comfortable. Even though they were under the comforter, it was still incredibly chilly in the room, and Anthony found that Ian was radiating a welcoming warmth that was hard to resist. He closed his eyes and sighed. These kinds of thoughts plagued him all the time, but with only a few inches between the man of question, they were a little hard to ignore.

He glanced at the alarm clock besides the bed.

2:31 A.M.

Damn if he wasn't going to be sleepy in the morning. Anthony tried to pull the covers up closer to his arms because he could feel goosebumps forming on his skin. His feet felt like popsicle.

"Dude...stop moving, will you?"

Anthony jumped at the sudden voice of his video-partner. "S-sorry," he mumbled in apology.

"Why are still awake?"

"Can't sleep. And it's cold as fuck in here."

Ian made a noise in agreement and turned over to face Anthony. He couldn't really see his face since Ian's back was to the window, but he could have sworn he saw a smirk grace his lips. "What, can't sleep with another man beside you?"

He knew Ian was teasing his, and also trying to get revenge for his earlier reluctance to get in bed. Anthony felt Ian scoot closer to him and he rolled his eyes even though the gesture was lost in the darkness. "It's not that, you douche nugget," he said pensively. Ian had blinked out his sleepiness and was fully awake now.

"Then I don't suppose you'd be bothered if I did this then?" The grin and mischief was easily detectable in Ian's tone of voice. He draped his right arm around Anthony.

"Seriously, dude get off," Anthony responded. He could feel the blood rush to his face and for once he was grateful of the secrecy the darkness offered. He tried pushing Ian's arm off him, but that only resulted in Ian pulling him closer until the point that they were literally chest to chest. There was a part of him that secretly enjoyed this.

That thought only made his cheeks flush more.

"What's wrong Ant? Don't like being so close?" Ian whispered tauntingly. Anthony could feel his breath on his face, and he barely registered what Ian said because, oh God his lips are so close to mine. Only a few more centimeters and they'd be touching. When Ian realized that Anthony was simply staring at him, he opened his mouth to say something else, but before any words could even escape, he felt a pair of lips crash against his own.

It was an impulse movement, and Anthony didn't even realize what he'd done until after it happened.

-OhGodohGodohGod, what did I just-

He heard a surprised yelp from the other man, but instead of pulling away in shock like Anthony had expected, Ian kissed back. A thousand emotions surged through him: shock, confusion, excitement, happiness. Slowly, he wrapped his left arm around Ian's head, pulling him even closer and deeper into the kiss.

When they broke for air, Ian blinked. "What...What just happened?"

Anthony didn't respond, only tugging Ian into another kiss, feeling encouraged after his first reaction. This time it lasted longer, their lips moving against each other's. He could feel something bubbling up in his chest, something burning hot and greedy, only wanting more. Experimentally, Anthony licked Ian's bottom lip, asking for entrance. Immediately he complied, and Anthony slipped his tongue into Ian's mouth, exploring as much of his mouth as he could.

Ian gave out a slight moan that sent a shiver down Anthony's spine. When they separated, the only thing Ian said was, "Damn, Ant, you're a good kisser."

He laughed, but didn't say anything else. Instead he attacked Ian's neck with little kisses and nibbles that were sure to leave his neck spotted with red marks in the morning. As this went on, that feeling in Anthony's chest grew larger and more hungry. There was a part of him that wanted to stop and talk about what was happening. But the other part of him was growing hazy with lust and desire.

Anthony returned his lips to Ian's, running a hand through his bowl-haircut causing him to moan again, louder this time.

"Ant, w-what are we-ahh-" Ian started, but gasped mid-sentence when Anthony started biting at a sensitive piece of skin under his ear.

Even though Ian wasn't sure of his feelings, when he felt a growing tightness below his belt he knew he couldn't hold back any longer. He gave into the lust that was growing thicker and thicker, clouding his thoughts. Anthony was in an equally helpless state, the pressure in his pants almost painful. Their hands explored each others body, feeling here and there.

They used their hands and mouths to pleasure each other, allowing noises to escape that were probably loud enough to wake the neighbors.

In the end, they both found it a terrible shame that the handcuffs heavily restricted their movements.

They woke up the next morning, awkwardly avoiding the topic of what they did during the night. Later in the afternoon they met up with the crew where they were filming. David, the man who left with the keys in the prop bag, apologized and returned the keys so that they could finally remove the handcuffs binding them.

But he couldn't help but notice the few slightly noticeable marks on Ian's neck and a smirk played on his lips.

"I get the feeling you two should be thanking me."

A/N: My first Ian/Anthony story. Apologies because there wasn't much editing done. I kind of have a thing for handcuffs, ahahah. This story is also to celebrate my recent first publish in print! I hope that wasn't too painful to read. Let me know what you think. Ahh, also, is Ian calling Anthony 'Ant' canon? Or is it just a sort of universal FF headcanon? If it's ever actually happened, someone should direct me to that video. Anyways, thank you for reading; it means a lot! You'll likely be seeing more Ianthony from me in the future.