Medicine And More

Nov 28, 2012 00:33

Fandom: Smosh
Pairing: Ian/Anthony
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Ian and Anthony are both bedridden with a bad cold, but that isn't enough to kill Ian's sex drive.
A/N: So yeah, this is sort of a fetish I have, I guess, but it's not really weird enough to put on my kink account. It's mostly just fluffy smut~



Anthony realized, during one of many attempted naps in the last week, that he and Ian had never really seen each other sick before. At least, not during the few years they’d been living together. They’d gotten the sniffles many times, sure, and there had been that one time Anthony had tonsillitis and couldn’t talk for two days, but they’d never really been sick together, not like this. Whatever awful shared virus they’d contracted in the past week was keeping them more or less confined to their double bed, their surroundings littered with half-empty boxes of tissues and bottles of cough syrup. It was a wonder either of them managed to drag themselves as far as the bathroom or the kitchen when they needed to; Anthony’s entire body was filled with aches and constantly soaked in a cold sweat despite his high fever. Ian was feeling more or less the same, although he'd been sick for a day or two longer. Neither of them could speak much above a raspy whisper, and coughing fits frequently overtook both of their bodies. Whatever this stupid virus was, it was terrible. Anthony couldn’t remember ever being this sick, at least not since he was a kid.

One thing he’d discovered, though, was that not even the plague could kill Ian’s sex drive.

Anthony had been sick for three days now, while for Ian it had been four or five. They’d spent the first two days together snuggled under heavy blankets, although more to protect against the freezing shivers that plagued their bodies than out of any kind of romantic sentiment. Yesterday, they’d taken instead to lying as far apart as possible, all covers but the thin sheet kicked to the floor as their shared fever drenched both of them in sweat.

But now, Anthony had woken up to find Ian pressed up against his side, hard and wanting as he rocked his hips against Anthony’s thigh.

Anthony had nearly laughed out loud at the sheer thought of sex while they were in this condition. “What the hell, dude?” he managed to croak out. “Are you feeling better?”

“No,” Ian rasped, followed by a brief burst of coughing. “I’m just really horny. Can we fuck?”

Anthony did laugh this time, but it only lasted a second before he lapsed into a coughing fit as well.

“No,” he wheezed, his chest hurting slightly. “I’m way too fuckin’ sick for that.”

“Please?” Ian whispered, slipping a hand into Anthony’s pajama pants to grasp his extremely limp cock and massage it gently. God, it was going to take a lot more than that to get him turned on when he was this sick.

“Ian, I’m so not in the mood, okay? Give me a few more days, and then I’ll be healthy again. We can fuck as much as you want then.”

Ian pouted, in a way that might have been attractive if it wasn’t for his cracked lips and bloodshot, tired eyes. “Come on, Ant,” he murmured, kissing Anthony’s neck softly, “you look so sexy when you’re sick.”

“I... what?” Anthony asked, pulling back to stare at Ian incredulously.

Ian shrugged. “You just look hot, is all.”

“I’m sick,” Anthony pointed out. “I’m pale and sniffling and coughing and I have bags under my eyes and I haven’t showered in two days.”

“I know, but... I kinda like it.” Ian blushed slightly.

Anthony laughed weakly. “You’re weird,” he said affectionately. “But I’m still too sick to be turned on. At all.”

Ian’s face fell into an exaggerated expression of disappointment. “Okay,” he sighed. His voice reminded Anthony of a little kid who’s just been told that Christmas is cancelled. “I’ll just jerk off,” he added.

Anthony felt a twinge of guilt as Ian rolled away from him and pulled down the front of his own pajama pants. Anthony’s eyes widened at the sight of Ian's fully erect dick. Jesus, he was horny.

Ian wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping slowly. He let out a low, raspy groan, and Anthony bit his lip.

“Do you want help with that?” he blurted out after a few seconds. Ian grinned.

“Are you sure you’re not too weak and fragile?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Get over here, dumbass.”

Ian obediently scooted over to Anthony, straddling his thighs expectantly, his pants still pulled down just enough to expose his dick. Anthony smiled, running his fingers teasingly up the shaft of Ian’s cock. Ian sucked in a rattling breath.

Anthony gripped Ian’s cock gently and began jerking him off, just fast enough to make Ian gasp softly and buck his hips a little, stifling a few coughs with his hand.

“Sexy,” Anthony rasped, although he had to admit he didn’t sound any better himself.

“You know I’m hot as -” Ian paused to cough again. “- as fuck,” he finished. He rocked his hips against Anthony’s hand again. Anthony took it as a sign to speed up, and he worked his wrist faster, rubbing his thumb over the head of Ian’s dick. Ian moaned softly.

Anthony was surprised to feel his own cock twitching beneath the fabric of his pants. He rocked his hips slightly, searching for some source of friction. Ian must have noticed, because he smirked. He pressed a hand to Anthony’s crotch.

“Half hard already?” he teased. “You want some help?”

“Mmmm, please,” Anthony murmured. Ian quickly undid the drawstring on Anthony’s plaid pajama pants and pulled the front down a little, grasping Anthony’s cock and giving it a few soft tugs. Anthony wasn’t even fully hard yet, but it felt nice enough that he let out a pleased hum, which quickly turned into a stifled cough.

Ian smiled, his hand firmly coaxing Anthony’s cock into a fully erect state. Anthony moaned, rolling his hips up into Ian’s hand as he jerked him off in the same rhythm. Ian leaned down to press their mouths together softly, and Anthony kissed back, tongues sliding together languidly. Ian’s mouth had a strange, slightly sick taste to it, but Anthony found he didn’t mind too much. He sucked Ian’s bottom lip into his mouth, and Ian moaned aloud, his hand speeding up on Anthony’s cock. Anthony gasped.

“Fuck, Ian,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb over the head of Ian’s dick.

“Ohhhh,” Ian groaned, his hips bucking into Anthony’s hand. “I’m gonna... oh, fuck.” He let out a strangled whimper, and his cock twitched in Anthony’s hand before shooting strings of white come onto Anthony’s black t-shirt. Anthony was too caught up in the movement of Ian’s hand to care; Ian was jerking him off fast now, pushing him to the edge faster than he thought possible. He groaned, thrusting up into Ian’s hand as he came, pleasure coursing through his body and momentarily eliminating the aches that had settled into his muscles in the last few days. When the last of his orgasm was finished, he opened his eyes and looked up into Ian’s blue ones. They were still gorgeous, he decided, even when they were bloodshot and had dark circles beneath them.

Ian looked down at the mess of his and Anthony’s come on Anthony’s t-shirt, raising his eyebrows. “Too sick to get turned on, huh?”

“Shut up,” Anthony murmured, grinning. Ian smirked and leaned down to kiss him.

“I am so gonna get sex out of you tomorrow,” he declared.

As much as he refused to admit it, Anthony was pretty sure Ian was right.

fic:smosh, fanfiction, ianthony, nc-17

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