The air is getting thin and hot, like its mid summer and their shitty ass air-conditioning's finally packed the hell in, add to that the fact that everything's just basically a black thingy on an even blacker background and you've got the recipe for late onset clostriphobia.
Making mental note to send the inevitable therapy bill to Mari he levels his gaze in the general vicinity of his fellow captors eyes and states,
"This is your fault you know."
"Uh no I think you'll find it's your fault
"Excuse me but I wasn't the one parading his god like abs around at every given opportunity."
"No, you were the guy casually giving a tootsie roll fillatio."
"I think you'll find that was retaliation for the leather pants."
"Says mr "oh no I seem to have dropped something, let me just pick it up!""
"Yeh well you were mentally undressing me during the last game time!"
"Hello you basically invented the term 'bedroom eyes', in fact they should just put a picture of you in the dictionary in place of a definition for it."
"This from the guy who basically swallows the fire trucking sun every time he laughs."
"Uh no, I only laugh like that around your sexy self."
"Ha, sorry but if anyone's sexy here it's you!"
Breathing, an extra edge of panic as a firm shove of the door exposes that yes, they are still locked in and that Yale really do know their shit, then from across the way,
"Ian?"
"Yeh Anthony?"
"Do you think maybe Mari has a point?"
"I guess."
The rough texture of a hand there against wrist, bicep and finally cheek,
"So…"
Body heat growing achingly closer, drawing him in, in, until…
Perfect just as he'd always known it would be, each move matched and countered the same pure instinct that has always fuelled their partnership.
Teeth soft against neck, the warmth of fingers sliding to graze hip bone and then a sharp ugly sounding noise as some random part of Anthony connects with something very solid in the cupboard.
A hissed swearword then, "ok so we need to get out of here."
With which they're both pounding on the door and screaming Mari's name so loud it's a wonder its not the police waiting for them as the door finally clicks open.
He takes a moment to breath the sweet, sweet, air, to appreciate the gentle breeze drifting in from some random open window and the gentle flush on Anthony's cheeks.
Then he swiftly plots the most efficient escape rout, looks his best friend in the eye, states, "by the way that so counts as you loosing," before pegging it as fast as his legs will let him.