Ian was always going through phases.
Anthony never understood it. It seemed like every few weeks Ian would latch onto something – an idea, a habit, an activity, sometimes even a person – and become completely obsessed with it. Anthony could never figure out how these phases started; Ian's mind was a mystery to him sometimes.
Some of them were normal. Anthony could remember Ian's weight-lifting phase, his classical music phase, his phase of only buying groceries that were on sale. Nothing weird there. Even some of his more drastic ones still fell within the realm of normality, like when he decided that he wouldn't drive anywhere that he could walk to within an hour.
Some of his other phases were a little more… odd. There was that time when he refused to take showers for three weeks straight, opting for a bubble bath every night instead. There was his short-lived attempt to only eat foods that were red. And there was that baffling phase where Ian had refused to sleep in his bedroom for almost two months, instead setting up his sleeping bag on the couch, the living room floor, and, on one memorable occasion, the dining room table.
This new phase, though, was the strangest one yet.
Ian's new phase was kissing Anthony.
The first time it happened, they had just finished editing for the night. Ian had announced that he was going to bed, but first he'd leaned over and pressed his lips against Anthony's. It was just a peck, so quick and light that Anthony wasn't even sure what had happened.
"What was that?" he'd asked, confused.
Ian had rolled his eyes. "It was a kiss, dumbass," he'd said, and walked away as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Anthony hadn't brought it up again. It was weird, but then again, it was Ian. He was always doing weird things, and Anthony had discovered that if he ignored them, they'd usually stop.
The second time it happened was at the supermarket, just three days later. They were shopping for groceries, and Anthony had leaned into a nearly-empty shelf to grab the last can of soup in the back. When he turned around, Ian was right behind him, and before Anthony had time to do anything but let out a surprised gasp, Ian had kissed him quickly and ran off down the aisle, disappearing around the corner.
"What the hell, dude?" Anthony had called after him, trying his best to ignore the strange looks the other customers were giving him. He shook his head, trying his hardest not to blush.
Just ignore it, he'd told himself. He's just looking for attention. If you ignore it, he'll stop.
Ian didn't stop.
The third time it happened was the final straw for Anthony. Six days after the supermarket incident, they'd been filming, right in the middle of a scene, surrounded by people, and Anthony had forgotten his line.
"Okay, cut!" Ian said, and he'd shuffled a little closer to Anthony on the couch, poking his arm.
"What?" Anthony had asked.
Ian had given him a little smirk and, before Anthony could stop him, planted another light kiss on his lips.
"What the fuck, Ian?" Anthony had shoved him away, blushing furiously. Ian shrugged, grinning.
"It was too tempting," he said to the room at large, and the crew roared with laughter.
At that moment, Anthony had wanted to crawl into a hole and die. But he knew that if he made a scene Ian would just make fun of him, so he'd finished the shoot as best he could, despite the snickers he was getting from the crew.
It was that night that he decided that he had to put a stop to it.
He was pretty sure he had this particular phase figured out, especially after the last incident. Ian thought it was funny to see Anthony get flustered and embarrassed, and he'd finally found a way to do it that worked perfectly. All Anthony had to do was wait for the next time Ian decided to put his little plan into effect, and make sure he didn't resist. And then he would see just how flustered he could make Ian.
The opportunity came along the very next day. Anthony was in the kitchen, pouring his coffee, when Ian walked in, still clad in boxers and a t-shirt.
"Morning, Anthony," he said.
"Hey, Ian." Anthony was instantly aware of Ian's movements, following the sound of his footsteps around the kitchen. He didn't look up; after all, he wanted to seem unsuspecting. Finally, Ian stopped, directly behind him.
"Ant?" he said.
Anthony turned around, trying to seem casual. "Yeah, Ian, what's -"
And Ian's lips were on his again, warm and rough.
This time, Anthony was prepared. Before he could pull away, Anthony tangled his fingers into Ian's hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Ian's lips parted to let out a surprised yelp, and Anthony used the opportunity to slip his tongue inside Ian's mouth, exploring insistently. He pressed his body up against Ian's, pushing him back into the counter.
Ian flailed his arms, attempting to push Anthony off. When he finally succeeded, he stared at him, eyes wide. "What the hell was that, dude?"
"It was a kiss, dumbass," Anthony said. He grinned, squeezed Ian's shoulder, and walked away. He could feel Ian's eyes on him as he left the room, and he couldn't resist sneaking a glance over his shoulder at his shocked expression. He knew that Ian would recover eventually and come back for revenge, but at the moment he wasn't worried at all.
He was looking forward to it.