"Hey Anthony? Can I ask you a stupid hypothetical question?"

"Sure," Anthony said as he bent to grab one of the cardboard boxes surrounding his feet.

Ian paused a moment before posing his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Anthony could see his friend fiddling with the lampshade he was supposed to be putting on a lamp he'd just set up in the corner of his new living room.

"What would you say if I told you I have a crush on you?"

Anthony frowned, just starting to ponder this bizarre question when the box—which contained Ian's video game collection—suddenly slipped out of his grip and crashed to the ground. "Fuck!" Anthony muttered as he stooped to pick it up again. "Dude, I don't know," he said to Ian, his tone laced with some of his irritation. "I'd tell you I don't believe you. Why the hell are you asking, anyway?"

Ian shrugged. "Oh, no reason. Sometimes I just wonder stupid random things like that." He moved over to stand beside the taller man and took the box from him. "Lemme hold this for you."

"Thanks, man," Anthony said. He sighed as he started filing the games on the shelf that the boys had set up a few minutes ago. "Moving all your shit is a lot harder than I thought it'd be."

"Tell me about it."

There was something strange about Ian's tone and the slight stiffness in his posture. Anthony wasn't sure what was wrong, but he knew his friend well enough to know he was unhappy about something.

"You okay, Ian?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. Just… tired. Think we should call it a night?"

Anthony set the last game on the shelf and then glanced at his watch. Somehow, it was already 9:30 PM.

"Oh, god, yes," Anthony said. "We've been at this for seven hours, dude! I'm fucking exhausted."

Ian chuckled, though he didn't sound that amused. "Yeah. You should head home."

"Okay," Anthony said, stretching the sore muscles in his back. "Still want me to come over tomorrow and see if we can finish the rest of this shit?"

Ian shrugged again. "I'll decide in the morning. I'm too, uh, tired to think about it tonight."

Anthony inwardly frowned. He and Ian had pretty much already agreed to spend the weekend finishing moving Ian's stuff into his apartment. Why was Ian changing his mind now? Then again, Anthony reasoned, it wasn't like he wanted to log another seven hours unpacking. He wouldn't exactly mind if Ian decided he didn't need help.

"Sure," Anthony said. "Just text me tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Will do," Ian said as he turned away from Anthony.

"Night, Ian."

His friend didn't respond, but Anthony didn't even notice his silence as he left the apartment.

Five hours later, Ian was still awake. He was sitting on his couch playing Mass Effect on his newly-set-up X-Box; Daisy was sleeping next to him with her front feet draped across his lap. He would've been quite comfortable and content if it weren't for the lateness of the hour and the words that kept echoing in his head: "I'd tell you I don't believe you."

He shouldn't have been surprised by the answer Anthony gave to his "hypothetical" question. Of course that's what he'd say—Anthony Padilla and Ian Hecox were nothing more than very close friends. Everyone knew that.

Everyone, it would seem, except Ian himself.

As he played through his favorite video game, Ian contemplated the misfortune that had somehow been dealt to him. What had he ever done to deserve the bittersweet torture of falling in love with his best friend and coworker? To have such strong feelings for a person who was simultaneously so close to him and so far out of his reach was the most frustrating thing Ian had ever experienced.

For years, Ian had thought his feelings were condemned to forever be fruitless, something he'd just have to shove to the back burner in order to function in everyday life. But now that he and Anthony were both single and living in the same city for the first time in years, it had seemed like there might be… potential. Or at least Ian had hoped there might be.

"I don't believe you."

No, there definitely wasn't much potential there.

Ian sighed and threw his X-box controller onto the couch beside him. He cupped his forehead in the palm of one hand and shut his eyes. He was so fucking tired… but he was pretty sure sleep wasn't an option at this point. Even if he could manage to drift off, he'd probably just be tormented by dreams of Anthony's stupidly perfect face.

He reached out and set a hand on Daisy's head. She looked up at him with sleepy eyes that seemed to ask him why they were still up so late and what the hell he was doing with his life.

"I don't know, Daisy," he said quietly. "I just don't know."

It was only at half past noon that Anthony finally realized he'd never gotten a text from Ian. The realization came with a flood of slightly-inexplicable guilt. How was it that he was only now remembering his best friend?

He flopped down on his couch, pulled out his phone, and called Ian. His friend picked up on the fifth ring.

"Yeah?"

"Dude, why didn't you text me?" Anthony asked.

"I dunno. Guess I forgot."

Anthony frowned. "Have you been unpacking? Should I come over and help you?"

"It's okay, man. I've gotten a lot done this morning." Ian's voice over the phone sounded heavy and dull, the way it did when he and Anthony used to pull all-nighters working on Smosh videos.

"Oh. Well, do you wanna hang out and play video games or something? I mean, we actually live within driving distance of each other now. It seems like we should do something together."

There was a short pause on the other end of the line. "Um, I have a lot I've still got to do here…."

Anthony frowned. "I thought you said you'd gotten a lot done?"

"Well, I mean, I have, but…."

"Ian, dude, what the hell is up with you? Did I piss you off or something?"

Ian sighed. "No, I just… don't feel like being social today."

"Oh. Okay. Well, let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Bye Anthony."

"Ian—" He didn't get to say anything further before the phone beeped in his ear, signaling that Ian had ended the call.

Anthony sighed. What the hell was wrong with Ian? Why did it feel like he wasn't telling Anthony something? And why did he seem so cold?

Anthony racked his brains. Had he said something to inadvertently offend Ian last night? Sure, he'd been kind of bitchy about moving all the stuff, but Ian wasn't the type to get butthurt over Anthony's tone of voice or short-tempered remarks.

Strangely, he found his thoughts drifting to Ian's stupid hypothetical question. He hadn't really thought much about it since then, but now… it was weird. Why would he have asked something like that out of the blue? Was it really just random, or did it mean something?

Now that Anthony thought about it, it did seem as though Ian's mood had soured after he'd posed his question. That, didn't, of course, explain why Ian would've asked such a thing, or why that would have caused his cold demeanor. Unless….

Was it maybe not a hypothetical question? Was Ian trying to genuinely figure out an answer? But why…?

"Holy shit," Anthony whispered as the only reasonable explanation finally came to him.

Ian had a crush on him.

Anthony was knocking on the door to Ian's apartment.

Well, technically, Ian didn't actually know that it was Anthony, but it wasn't like he had any other friends in L.A. who would just show up at his door without any prior arrangements.

Ian wasn't sure he was going to answer. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing Anthony's face just yet. He'd meant what he'd said earlier—he didn't feel like socializing with anyone, much less Anthony.

Oh, come on, Ian. Don't be a douche and leave Anthony waiting at your door.

He dragged himself off the couch—where he'd pretty much been living for the past sixteen hours—and went to get the door. He had to hold Daisy back by her collar as he opened it so she didn't bolt out.

Sure enough, Anthony was standing in the doorway. Ian, as always, took in too many details about his appearance—that his cheeks were flushed their usual pink, how he stood with both his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, the way his hair was messy and curly because he must not have taken the time to straighten it, and the fact that his eyes were a luminous, sepia brown.

"Hi, Ian," he said, a bit awkwardly.

"What are you doing here, Anthony?" Ian asked wearily.

"I know you said you didn't feel like socializing, but I, um, kind of wanted to talk to you."

Ian cocked an eyebrow. "So you just drove over here instead of sending me a text or something?"

"The stuff I wanted to talk about is too important for a text."

Shit. How did he figure it out? There was no doubt in Ian's head that Anthony had come to ask him about that stupid "hypothetical" question. He must have somehow realized the reason behind it, and now he wanted to confront Ian to find out if he was right.

"Uh, are you gonna let me in, dude?"

"Oh, yeah…." Ian stepped back from the door and let Anthony move past him.

"Sorry if I seemed pissed off last night, by the way," Anthony said as he headed into the living room.

"No problem," Ian said uncomfortably. He hoped to God that Anthony wasn't going to hedge and try to make small talk rather than get straight to the point.

Anthony chuckled when he saw the state of Ian's living room, which was a mess of blankets, video games cases and controllers, and dishes.

"I see you've made yourself at home," he said.

Ian shrugged, telling himself to act normal. "It's a lazy Sunday, dude, what do you expect?"

Anthony didn't answer as he moved a blanket on the couch away so he could have a seat. Ian perched nervously on the other end of the couch.

"Hey Ian?" Anthony asked hesitantly, staring into Ian's eyes.

"Yeah?"

"You remember that hypothetical question you asked me last night?"

Oh, fuck. So that's what this was about after all. Don't you dare screw this up, Hecox. "Sure."

"Well, I think I have a different answer. The, uh, right one, this time."

Ian blinked. "What do you mean?"

"If you told me you had a crush on me, I'd tell you that that just happens to be fucking perfect because I have a crush on you, too."

Ian's gaze flicked back and forth between Anthony's eyes. There were a hundred things he could say, (at least seventy percent of which were some variation of, "Are you fucking serious?") but in the end he chose to spit Anthony's words back at him in his flattest tone: "I don't believe you."

Anthony's hopeful expression crumpled a bit, but he still reached out and rested his hand over one of Ian's. "I mean it, Ian. I'm in love with you. I just didn't realize that last night would've been a chance for me to tell you—I was too used to pretending I didn't feel this way, too used to you being just a friend."

Ian didn't say anything. He just stared into Anthony's brown eyes that were a thousand shades of honest and tried to come to terms with what he was hearing.

"And if I've made the wrong assumption and your question really was just stupid and hypothetical," Anthony said hurriedly, "then this just became the most embarrassing thing I've ever done and I'm really sorry and I'll just show myself out…." He pulled his hand away and started to stand.

"Anthony," Ian said firmly, catching the other man's wrist and pulling him back to the couch. "Don't be stupid."

And, without thinking, he reached out with his other hand, looped it around the back of Anthony's head, and pulled him into a kiss.

Anthony's lips were cool and slightly chapped against Ian's and they were returning the kiss without hesitation, firmly and deeply. It was as if Anthony had imagined this moment as many times as Ian had.

A shiver of pleasure danced down Ian's spine as Anthony slid an arm around Ian's waist and pulled him closer.

Oh dear god, how have I been missing out on this for so long?

He finally pulled away—reluctantly—when he realized his brain wasn't receiving enough oxygen.

"That was…" he started.

"Weird," Anthony said. "But good!" he added hastily. "I just spent so long thinking that would never happen that it's still weird to think that it is."

"Agreed," said Ian. "But I'm not complaining."

"Me neither. I have a feeling I won't be complaining again for a long time." He leaned forward and kissed Ian again.

After they parted again, Ian said, "Hey Anthony?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm in love with you. And that's not a hypothetical statement."

Anthony chuckled. "Well, duh. I kinda figured that out already."

Ian smiled and said, "I just thought I should say it."