Archive of Our Own

Coy can feel eyes on him.

That particular bright blue eyes that's far too striking for anyone to see directly, almost downright unreal and creepy if you ask anyone but Coy about it.

He forces himself not to notice, clicking away on the latest Premiere file that needed more splicing. 

“How you holdin' up?” 

Coy shrugs, “Managing.” 

From his periphery, he can see Anthony glance up at the clock overhead. He hates how he can observe every little thing Ant does. 

“Come on, it's not even Thursday yet,” Anthony argues. “And we're already on our third draft. Hand over the files, get some rest, and have the rest of us finalize it for you.” 

“Then how am I supposed to make sure I edit out all of your crappy jokes?” 

He feels a soft shove to his shoulder and hears his small laugh right beside his ear. His breath tickles the hairs inside his ear, sending goosebumps along his shoulders.

He tries to maintain a nonchalant face, but his blooming red ears give it away. 

Anthony notices. 

“Sorry.” 

Coy manages an embarrassed chuckle and finally swivels around to meet his roommate's apologetic face. “I'm not a shattering glass, Ant.” 

“Right, right. I know.” 

Afraid of letting even just a second of awkward air between them, Coy immediately pivots back to the topic at hand, swiveling back to his work desk to avoid whatever expression Anthony sends him. “Mind checking if the pacing's okay for this segment?” 

Anthony playfully knocks the headphones from Coy's ear, earning him an exaggerated “Ow!” before he rubs his palms together. “Finally. Scoot on over, nerd.” 

“Asshole.” 

Coy's crush on Anthony is obvious for anyone with eyes to see. It didn't help that their first meetings started with Coy delivering a corny pick-up line so awful, it led to both of them in hysterics. When Coy finally moved into the house, of course he filled most of his banters with Anthony with even more terrible lines to exchange. It's an inside joke for them. A joke of how utterly down bad Coy is for Anthony.

Well, Coy would disagree with that. He still thinks Anthony's jokes are hit or miss, with their misses ranging from cringe to absolute silence. He hates how he never washes the dishes. Everyone doesn't, so who else to do the chore but him? He hates how whenever he borrows Coy's car, he always leaves the gas almost empty. 

But there are some things he simply could not comprehend. How his eyes will linger on Anthony's smile whenever he makes him laugh. How it's contagious, soon sending him to a laugh that makes his cheeks hurt. That genuine, gasping laugh with a tilt in the end. How he can never focus entirely on a task when Ant's hand rests on his shoulder, oftentimes massaging it out of habit. How… nice and considerate he can be outside of the ‘character’ he plays for the internet. He lets him borrow his clothes all the time when Coy forgets his schedule and does not do his laundry on time. Sure, often Will tosses him some too, but Anthony will give his clothes to him without even asking. Like he already paid attention to Coy's inattentiveness this week. Like he cares. 

Anthony doesn't like Coy. Not like that. 

He'd spend the whole day with him when the rest of their roommates were off for Christmas. He'd share secrets with him, talk about upcoming games they'd like to play, complain about the mysterious smell in their fridge. But Coy knows that's just all there is. Anthony is straight as a ruler, yet too nice to aggressively reject him outright. Coy had tiptoed around the discussion, and Anthony had complimented him 7 times before softly telling him, ‘I'm afraid our paths don't cross, at least in that way.’ Then sandwiched it with 8 more compliments of how he is one of his ‘treasured friends I would fight a war for.’ 

And what is Coy supposed to react to that? Thanks? 

Once, drunkenly, Coy had become far too handsy with Anthony. And Coy is notorious for holding his liquor well. Which led to the three of his friends cocooning him on all sides as they left the bar, making sure whoever drugged Coy never had an opportunity to touch him. 

He had hugged Anthony the rest of the way out like a sloth. Giggling at every word he said, no matter if it was a joke or not. And if their previous interactions weren't a dead giveaway to Coy's feelings, this finally confirms it to Bon and Will. 

“I'd think you look better with a beard…” Coy caressed his jaw while Anthony remained patient as usual. 

“Yeah? I never pegged you to be a beard enthusiast.” 

“Ugh, having a beard and looking for hot bearded men are completely different!” Coy suddenly gagged. Thankfully, it was just a burp. 

Will laughed. “Anthony? Hot? Oh, Sober Coy wouldn't agree with that.” 

Coy finally released his grip on Anthony's neck. “Don't speak of him as if he's not here! He is here. I mean, I am Sober Coy!” 

“Sure, bud,” Hanbon rubbed soothing circles on Coy's back, one hand on her phone opened to the Uber app. She turned to Will and Anthony, “No joke, I will punch whoever did this to him. We all agree on that, right?” 

Anthony raised one palm in mock surrender, “My fault. I was supposed to watch over him. You guys can punch me instead.”

“Dude, as much as I would like that, I saw you only left Coy unattended for like,10 seconds,” Will counters. 

“Still. That fucker–” He was halted mid-rant by the lanky man tugging his collar closer to him. Anthony hissed a curse, and when he opened his eyes, he was nose to nose with Coy, deep green eyes clouding his view. 

“You talk too loud…” Coy slurs his words. 

Outside of their little world, Han and Will stared at their two friends with new interest. They glanced at each other as if they were exchanging bets already. 

If Anthony blushes at that moment, he will blame it on the alcohol. “Your breath stinks.” 

Coy paused for a moment, as if words to him were harder to swallow and digest with the thick cotton around his head. Then slowly a grin appears. He started exhaling heavily right on Anthony's nostrils. 

“Ew! Ew! Dude, stop it!” Anthony pushed Coy back, laughing breathlessly. They mock-fought and chased around each other for a while until Hanbon forcefully pulled them back to reality and into their Uber car. 

That night, it was all confirmed for the rest of the house. 

Coy was down bad for Anthony. Maybe for longer than what they expected. 

As for Anthony, well…

Coy giddily walks with Anthony in the hallway leading to the Jonas Brothers premiere, Anthony filming him the whole way. Even with the camera filtering his experience, he still could not believe Ant would finally take one of them to something this high-end. Usually, he'd bring his girlfriends. But Coy assumes that since he is single at the moment, he finally has the chance to make one of his invitations into a funny skit video, which slowly becomes Coy's favorite episode so far. 

It's not every day you get to spend the whole night alone with your unrequited crush. With him gushing about how ‘perfect’ Coy looked in this lighting, or how he grabbed his hand when the crowd thickens. 

For most people, it would have been a nightmare. For Coy, he may be spending time with the person who rejected him, but he is also spending it with one of his best friends. He could swallow most of the bitterness down. 

Coy let himself fawn over the Jonas Brothers, Anthony jokingly fawns with him while completely not knowing who the hell these brothers are. They dance at the afterparty, not with each other but rather right next to each other, platonically, five feet apart. Coy goes to the punch table and finds napkins. 

“Ant, Ant. Let's give this to Hanbon,” Coy says, holding a completely ordinary napkin, grin already sneaking to his face. 

Anthony laughs, immediately hitting record on his phone. “This? To make up for making a video with Will surrounding a pebble?” 

“And this straw!” 

“And the fucking straw.” 

“She's gonna love this.”

They filmed Coy deliberately scrunching the napkin to his pocket. 

Of course, that was just for the skit the video wanted. Behind the cameras, they have goodie bags, autographed CDs, and a blind box Hanbon wanted for weeks. 

Occasionally, Coy feels Anthony filming him from beside his seat. His expression was hidden behind the camera. For their videos, they often exaggerate their actions, jump into hyperbolic renditions of their own personalities. But for this, Coy lets the cameras sink down, the lenses disappear, and imagine this fake scenario. 

Where he…

He feels someone bump his shoulder. 

“I'm just so happy I came with you, and not anybody else,” Anthony says, camera pointing at the both of them. 

“...Really?” Coy halts his steps. They were back from the afterparty, going to the next event, which had Santa to talk to, dozens of people walking around them, their chatter masking the hopeful tilt to Coy's word. 

Anthony set his phone down near his pocket, covering the phone's mic with the side of his sweater. “Yeah. Honestly, a lot nicer than I'd thought it would be.” 

Coy fake gasped. “Why Anthony. You asking for a second date?” 

“Are you implying this is our first date?” Anthony jokes back. 

“You better aim that camera back, viewers love the queerbaiting.” 

Anthony laughs and does as he was told. 

Coy continues, “Yeah, Hanbon would be kind of loud right now.” 

It's another drunk video. But with Youtube monetization, they could not film themselves drinking, at least with the alcohol brand shown. Regardless, it is obvious they are very much buzzed. 

There's someone with a wizard costume behind the curtain. Coy, Will, and Hanbon all wear cheap costumes of what medieval wear supposedly looks like. Anthony has a cape. And they have fans chattering about the bar Anthony reserved for the whole night. 

It is an exaggeration to the camera how Coy has a crush on one of the fans, ‘Lord Patterson’, he calls himself while LARP-ing wholeheartedly. If he wasn't as cute as he was, Coy would have second-hand embarrassment that there was someone even nerdier than him. But thankfully, he is awfully cute. 

And he is not, not not truly faking it for the camera. 

And what if he does flirt with him even when the cameras aren't rolling? 

Patterson laughs at one of Coy's attempts at getting to know him. They stand at the empty corner of the ‘tavern’, holding glasses of cheap wine in hand. The chatter around them was dissipating to simple background noise. The warm lighting makes Patterson’s narrowing eyes look very much not-safe-for-work. He whispered under his breath, going out of character, “So you are cuter in person.” 

Coy blushes. He really shouldn't be flirting with one of his fans, but as far as the viewers know, he was only faking it. 

He folds his hands behind him, tries to lean into the wall to seem nonchalant. “After filming. You wanna get outta here?” 

Patterson smiles –he smiles the way Anthony smiles– and shakes his head. “As much as that would be awesome, let's not do something we regret tomorrow.” Despite that, he cages Coy to the wall with one arm. Coy takes a sharp inhale. “Are you free next weekend?”

Before Coy can even let out one syllable, he hears someone shout his name. 

It's Anthony. With a somewhat unreadable expression. 

“Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but Coy we better continue with the, uh,” Anthony signals to the front of the bar. 

Right, Coy comes back to reality. They are in the middle of filming. 

He takes one more glance towards Patterson –god, he doesn't even know his first name yet– smiles a polite smile, then takes a deep breath before he takes off. 

“I'm having a vision!” He shouted.

“You put your finger in my mouth,” Hanbon states. They're back in a small room near the back of the bar, this time with the camera facing away from the nude painting that will surely demonetize their video. Will holds the camera in his weird way again. Coy sits beside him, his chin resting on his palm in ease. The four of them try not to drink as much as they like, at least until after the work is finished. Though the faint buzz underneath does at least help get this video started, even with the forced over-acting they do. 

Anthony, without hesitation, says, “Me next.” He doesn't even look at Coy while saying it.

Coy feels Will pans the camera to him. He tries his hardest not to show any emotion, hiding most of his expression with his resting palm. Staring at Anthony with rising eyebrows as if saying, Are you referring to me or Hanbon?

“Er,” Anthony starts. And never finishes. 

Hanbon thankfully saves them from cutting the shot completely. “Your hands were so clammy and cold. I'm going to tell that to the internet,” Hanbon faces entirely to Will's godawful camera work, “Coy is clammy and cold.”

“That's just making him more relatable,” Coy argues. “Oh, he has anxiety. He's just like me.” Even before he finishes his sentence, Coy can already tell how stupid he sounds. 

A snicker breaks from Anthony, then it leads to full-blown laughter from him and Coy. 

“Guys, I thought we agreed, no more drinking until the shoot's over,” Will says. 

“I did not drink a single thing,” Anthony confesses.

“Then why are you two giggling so much?” Will looks at the both of them, then at Hanbon, then back at the two men. “Is there something going on between you two?” 

“No!” “God, no!” 

A week after the shoot, Coy comes home at 3 am. He hangs his keys next to everyone else's, then his car keys on the bowl with his own scrappy writing saying ‘Please re-fuel if you want to borrow -Coy’. He can't really hide his stupid grin as he makes his way up the stairs. 

In the kitchen, someone is cooking instant noodles. 

“...Anthony?” 

The man doesn't jump at his voice. Without looking back, he waves at him, “Yo.” 

“What are you doing up?” 

Anthony's back shrugs. “Couldn't sleep. Was doing some editing.” 

It's Sunday. The video is already up. And they haven't even begun shooting, or even planning the next video yet. Coy wants to point that out before Anthony speaks up again. 

“Had fun tonight?” 

Coy leans back at the kitchen bar facing Anthony. Smile tugging back to him. “Oh, you want the details, sis?” He jokes in his stereotypical gay-man voice. 

“No.” 

His smile falls. He takes a closer step to Anthony, trying to get a read on his expression. Anthony's profile doesn't reveal anything. Rather, he seems bored, or tired. 

In fact, he doesn't seem like his usual self. 

Coy chooses his words carefully, “Hey, you okay, man?”

He makes a move to clasp a hand to Anthony's shoulder before the man jumps away from him, sharp eyes snapping to his face. “I got an idea for our finale.” 

Seems like he doesn't like to talk about it. Coy understands, yet files this information for later. If Anthony wants to steer to another topic, then Coy will follow. At least, for now. Hanbon might know, she’s the closest to Anthony. “What'cha got?” 

“I think we should get everyone back together. You know, the pizza delivery guy, the guy who made us dinner, that sorta thing.” Anthony pours his noodles into the bowl and grabs some clean chopsticks from the dishwasher. “Like all season finales usually work.” 

“That's something. Have any idea on how to incorporate that into us eating a skateboard?” 

“I have no fucking clue.” 

Coy laughs. “We really dug ourselves in too deep this time, huh?” 

“It was just a joke. I never intended that we actually make a video about it!” 

Anthony slurps his noodles while the discussion continues. They toss ideas around, even stupid ones, and see what sticks. Usually, Han and Will are with them. So most of the ideas they have all fall back into the bin. It is also 3 in the morning. Coy is still high off of getting laid mere hours ago. And Anthony has… obviously something going on in his head for sure. He'll probably talk to Hanbon about it. Coy is not the kind of friend he shares secrets with. 

“You can even invite your new boyfriend, you know,” Anthony mumbles, tossing the dishes into the sink –something Coy will have to deal with in the morning. 

His tone caught Coy off guard. “Boyfriend?” 

“Patterson. The guy you were with earlier?” 

“Oh, Luke.” Coy shakes his head, “He's not my boyfriend.” 

“Didn't know you were a one-night-stand guy.” 

“You don't know what I did the moment I turned 18,” Coy smirks. 

Anthony answers jokingly, “Ooh, when's my turn?” 

“You don't get a turn, ‘cause I only fuck with strangers.” 

“Is that actually true?” 

Coy notices he is somehow interested in this. Not really a surprise, the rest of his friends are always curious about his dating life, or whether he has dated girls before he realised he was gay– probably because he never once mentioned anything regarding that aside from jokes here and there. “Yes, well– No. Not entirely?” Coy fumbles. “...I guess I did have a--a thing with Tubbo before.” 

Anthony turns his glare to Coy. Not just interest anymore, but a glare. “A thing?” 

He feels uncomfortable underneath Ant's scrutinizing gaze. What did he do? Why is he acting like this? Get me out of here. “Y-you know. I don't like to say it out loud–” 

“Like a, a fuck buddies situation?” 

“More than that? I think?” 

“So you dated.” 

“But not that serious.” 

“And still are?” 

Coy finally slips from the kitchen bar and finds his footing on the wooden floor. Anthony had gotten so close to him before, it was almost suffocating, and thrilling? “Look, Imma head to bed, okay? I think you need one, too.”

“Coy, wait.”

Before he steps even one foot into the hallway leading to his room, a warm hand grasps his wrist. He looks back at his friend, looking desperate. Desperate why? Did he feel bad for crossing the line? 

“I'm sorry. Shouldn't have… I know you like to keep those things to yourself, I didn't… Fuck, I don't know what's happening to me.” 

Coy watches Anthony slicks his hair back in frustration. The shadows created by the kitchen's poor lighting make his expression even more tired than usual. The furrow in his brow stays like that, and it is the most confused Anthony has ever looked to Coy. 

Coy grabs his arm in reassurance, “Hey, it's fine. What's the saying? Watering over bridge?” 

Ant grins, his earlier personal dilemma forgotten. “It's ‘water under the bridge.’ Get some sleep, loser.” 

“Oh, yeah, from the guy who stayed up all night editing non-existent footage? You can say you were jerking it all night, Ant. I won't judge.” 

“Jesus Christ, fine, Mom, I will go to bed.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Nerd.” 

With a professional camera pointed at him, he is pinned to the goffice wall by Patterson, holding a fake plastic sword to his neck. Anthony's intense focus held him still. 

“What if we take this upstairs?” Coy says the line. Not exactly scripted, but vaguely scripted, just like most of their videos are. 

Anthony purses his lips from behind the cameraman, “How ‘bout sexier, Coy?” 

“Sexier?” Coy furrows his brows in confusion. He sees Patterson holding back a snicker, lips bitten. “Hey, what's so funny?” 

Releasing Coy from his grip, Patterson steps back. “Just, I don't think the Youtube audience would be prepared for ‘Sexy Coy’,” he air-quotes. 

Anthony chokes on his own spit. 

“By how terrible I am, you mean?” Coy counters. 

“Sure, let's go with that,” Patterson narrows his eyes. 

Anthony suddenly pushes them away from each other, “Okay! Be professional, people. Let's go from the top!” 

Coy notices Anthony somehow looks agitated now. He keeps sneaking glares at Patterson like he disrespected his own mother. Coy doesn't know what to do with this information. He guesses that's what typical friends do, getting over-protective over their friend's possible significant others. 

“So you want this sexier, Ant?” Coy asks again, now back in position with Patterson on the wall. “How?” 

Looking down at the shot list, Anthony answers without looking up. “Just smile like you usually do. That works better than your god-awful flirting.” 

Coy's heart skips a beat. 

“Alright, ready boys? Start… now!” 

Suddenly thrown back into the scene, Coy didn’t even have time to think about what Anthony said. Plastic sword is thrust once again onto his throat, and his vision is completely filled with Patterson, making him forget whatever gay panic he had and dumping him into a different gay panic with an entirely different person. 

Catching his breath, he nervously smiles –Anthony likes my smile, Anthony likes my smile, Anthony– “What if… What if we take this upstairs?”

Holding for a few more seconds of silence, 

Anthony calls the shot. Said it was ‘perfect’ while looking directly at Coy, gaze unmoving even when the cameraman asks him a question. 

Water dripping from his face, Coy looks back at his reflection in the mirror. His mind wandered to him now that he is alone, no noise of conversation to distract him anymore, no more handsome situationships leading him further away. He is utterly confused about how to deal with Anthony. 

As his hands do his usual skin care routine, he thinks about how Anthony’s jokes started becoming different.

The four of them always joke about dating each other in front of the audience, ‘because that’s what the fans wanted’, he remembered Anthony speaking. Hanbon and Anthony, Coy and Will, Hanbon and Coy, Will and Anthony, you know the point –they knew what commenters said of their supposed love affair with each other. It was hilarious, then a bit creepy, then back to hilarious once they realised they could make gags surrounding it to get conversations rolling between fans. It was never serious. Coy and Anthony do it too, even with the very real attraction from Coy. Maybe less than the other pairs because Anthony insisted that he is ‘not that cruel’. To which Coy responded with, ‘that’s homophobic if you stop fake-flirting with me in front of the camera’. And with which Anthony asked, incredulously, ‘what.’

They do it all the time, sometimes out of habit. 

So Coy knew when Anthony joked.

In recent weeks, Anthony doesn’t sound like he’s joking anymore. 

Blame it on Coy’s hopeful personality, but often he thought that it was real, in which he asked for clarification each time.

“...Which one of us do you think that is the best looking? …Wait, no, no. Who do you think is going to go the furthest in life?” Will asked out of his ass in the middle of their interview, not the nice guy from Powder Blue who took the time and effort to interview them.

Anthony replied with no second wasted, “Watch it be Coy for both of them. Look at him, he’s even stealing the cameraman’s attention.”

“Shut up, we’re having a moment,” Coy cheekily blew a kiss to Cris, which caught it with his free hand. Then quickly rewound time to realise what Ant had just said. “Aww, did you just say I’m pretty?”

“Why do you think we have your face front and center on almost all of our thumbnails?”

“Just thought you’re too ‘no-homo’ to accept the reality.”

“No, I’m not! Coy!” Anthony looked at him then, one-hundred percent serious, gaze unblinking. “Coy. Look at me. You are very pretty.”

Coy let himself blush for a second, before–

“--Pretty ugly!”

“Yep. Knew that that’s what you were going for.” 

Coy covers his face with both of his hands. God, he really needs to keep it down. 

But how can you? When Anthony’s… When he–

“...Yeah, that’s pretty nice, right?” Anthony gave his best impression of a Southern accent, wearing the horrible outfit Will had chosen for him. “I think I like you, but I don’t know what to do with these feelings.”

When he just–

Coy picked up the headless remains of their newest ‘member’, Shirley. He put her neck right underneath his chin, “Rub some lotion on my back!”

Anthony wheezed and slapped Coy’s back. It turned to caresses when Coy, out of habit said, “Ow! Ow! Ow!”

Can’t he just fucking–

“...Like, I’m just so happy I came with you, and not anybody else.”

“Coy?” Hanbon’s voice cuts through his turmoil. “You done yet? I need to do my skincare too, you know!”

He realised he never even got past using his toner. “Y-yeah, just come in!”

Hanbon opens the door, carrying her own washbag in hand, setting it right beside Coy’s open toner pads. “Scooch!”

With someone beside him doing her own work, he felt himself compelled to continue his skincare routine. The bothering thoughts of Anthony need to be tucked away for a moment, at least when he’s alone again, because he really cannot comprehend–

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Hanbon asks, unbothered.

“...How can you know?”

“Honestly, just throwing things until it sticks. I know you seemed weirder recently, but thought it was just the exhaustion.” Bon smirks up at him, “Fell for my trap, huh?”

Coy shakes his head at Bon’s antics. “You’re staying here tonight?”

“My new roommates are loud. Not good for period headaches.” She finishes by one last hand washing before spraying the remnants of water into Coy’s face, sobering him up immediately. “Stop changing the subject! What’s up with you?”

Coy messes with his hair anxiously. He debated over telling Hanbon this; he told Hanbon relatively anything. But she is also Anthony’s confidante. Does he trust her not to spill? Is he ready to listen Hanbon’s harsh truth, supposedly already knowing Anthony like the back of her hand? He could ask for guidance to his best friend from high school, who always knew what to do in these situations, but she’s not here right now. His only options are Berto (doesn’t know shit about relationships), Yuuta (is not here), Will (would just pat his back), or Hanbon. 

She’s already putting her stuff back into her washbag. “Hey, if you don’t wanna talk, sure. But I’m here if you need me. Probably take the couch in the goffice if–”

“Does Anthony like me?”

She stops her movement, eyebrows raise, mouth slightly agape. 

“W-wait. No, that’s not– Uh. Not not what it is, I meant–”

“Coy.” She grabs his arm, already marching towards his room. “We are having a slumber party.”

Coy taps his fingers nervously along his shoulder, sneaking up glances occasionally at Anthony setting up the main camera in their kitchen. He eventually drinks his shot of whiskey. They were supposed to pre-game before the shoot anyways. 

Will sets up their ‘Drunk Meter’ chart, does one single line of colored marker, “Wait. What's my color again?” 

“Purple!” Hanbon helpfully shouts from the hallway. 

“Shit. Uh, do we even have more purple markers?” 

Hanbon comes from the hallway, readjusting one earring. “Just do the closest color.”

“Pink is the closest, and you're pink.” Will sticks out his tongue as he draws Anthony's first in the meantime. His lines are far from straight, despite how he hasn't even started pre-gaming yet. 

Anthony takes one look of the already crumpled paper. “Dude, that's so bad.” 

“...Yep.”

“I'm handling this. Hey, Coy!” 

He lifts his head up. This is the first time they’ve interacted ever since his talk with Hanbon. Both of them had been tiptoeing around each other as if they could explode once they acknowledged their presence, both from the exact dilemma happening in Anthony’s head. It calmed Coy’s heart sometimes, knowing he is not the only one scared in this situation. 

“Take care of the cameras, will ya? You're taller than me anyway.” 

For reassurance, he searches for Hanbon. Like a true friend, she's already beside him. She pats his back, softly smiles, and murmurs something neither Will nor Anthony can hear. Coy nods, gulping nervously, takes yet another shot of whiskey, then continues working. 

“Also, I forgot to mention,” Coy says to the camera, “Whoever predicts correctly of who gets the drunkest tonight gets to sleep in Anthony’s bed tonight!”

“What the fuck?!” Anthony screams from the bathroom doorway.

Hanbon and Will holler to the camera. Coy has been planning this exclusive video for exactly one day. Anthony was the one who gave the idea that they must have paid content if they want to raise funds for the next season finale, but he completely left the rest of the team to plan what exactly to do. With the many projects they are handling, they lost track of time until one day before the shoot day. Coy had to pick up the pieces, rather haphazardly, and thought of putting something they couldn’t do before because of Youtube monetization policy: drinking games. He sought help from Hanbon and Will –who knew– and thought of embarrassing things they could do in front of camera, but still within their comfort zone. 

Coy’s not gonna make a move when they’re both drunk. He’s not that stupid. Rather, Han and Will nudged him that Ant will be inebriated enough to, maybe, show whether he has figured it out or not. Coy’s not hoping much. It took him years to realise it himself. Who’s to say Ant is more open to the idea? 

The shoot starts smoothly. Will, despite not being drunk yet, is already crawling on the kitchen bar. Like other videos, the friends joke-flirt with each other. Coy couldn’t necessarily stop that coming out of his mouth. 

“When was the last time you were happy?” Hanbon asks Anthony who lies on the kitchen bar, which they dubbed as the ‘Hot Seat’. 

“Uh, right now.”

The three of them gushed and awwed at him.

“Now shut up and move on to the next question.” Typical Anthony, not really into all the mushy stuff or admitting he really cared for his friends. Coy rather liked how he shows them through actions. Like the time Coy deliberately did not wash the dishes for three days, letting and hoping for someone to do the chore instead of him. When it was emptied and cleaned on the fourth day, Anthony admitted to doing the dishes, and Coy almost said ‘I love you’ right then and there. 

“What’s your favorite memory of us?

Anthony rolls his eyes, “That’s a stupid– No, that question sucks. Give a good one. This is the hot seat!”

“Okay, okay,” Coy takes the reins. He blames the whiskey he drank earlier to his next question. “Um, which one of us do you want to fuck?” He couldn’t even finish the sentence properly by laughing, immediately covering his mouth with his hand. He could hear Will and Bon laugh beside him, even Anthony has a budding chuckle come out of him. “Sorry, you asked for it!”

“Alright,” Anthony picks up his drink.

“You asked for it!”

Anthony drinks his cup, holding a look directly at Coy the whole time. Winking once he finishes his shot.

That’s new. 

Maybe the buzz of the alcohol helped them forget the matter at hand for a moment, because Coy and Anthony began conversing like normal again. He gaped open like a fish when Coy confessed that he had kissed a girl before, when he wasn’t sure of his sexuality yet. They all joked about how Coy hogged all of the fan edits, which he comments that it ‘confused my self-image’. Anthony jumped in that he should be kinder to himself because ‘have you seen the polls? So many people wanna bang you, dude’. 

The whole shoot, he feels Anthony’s soft gaze on him on all times. It left him blushing, doubling from the alcohol’s effects. It makes him jittery, in a good or bad way, he isn’t sure yet. 

“He’s questioning his sexuality,” Hanbon whispered to him in the dim lighting of Coy’s room, holding the soft sheets in both of her fists, cause if not, she would have strangled him.

“Because of the jokes?”

“Because of you, dumbass!” She littered his shoulder with half-hearted punches. “I’m sorry I called you a dumbass!” 

Each time his shirt lifted even slightly when he came down from the kitchen bar, Anthony’s heated gaze glued to his skin. Coy tries not to make too much eye contact for fear of it showing just how much he wants him. Anthony’s wearing the camera glasses anyway, some poor guy’s editing this is going to have to deal with whatever unresolved tension they have.

Well, they haven’t spun the wheel yet.

Before the next bit, Coy stands from his seat to grab the wheel, Anthony’s gaze following him across the room. For a bit of fun, he tries to gently sway his hips once he’s out of the camera’s field of view. He immediately stops when he realises he definitely does not have the confidence to do it. 

The wheel landed on him.

“Okay, well, good luck. Idiot.” Anthony says as if he wasn’t just obviously staring at his ass a couple of seconds ago.

Well. Now that Coy has jurisdiction over the whole footage they have, he can have some more fun with him.

The longer the shoot gets, the drunker they get. That’s the whole point of the video. Coy eyes the scene in amusement. Out of all of them, he could tolerate alcohol the best, despite what the breath analyzer says. Which was why they all chose him to lead the video. He sees Will going across the kitchen table to lie down and almost fall over. Hanbon is taking a shower for some reason and forgets to put her mic back. Anthony repeats to Hanbon, over and over, that she is his best friend in the whole wide world. They all found 52, no wait, 53 dollars inside Anthony’s pocket and got excited somehow. Hanbon hugs them all, for a minute or longer, and shouts that she would die for them.

Coy has to watch Anthony kiss a pink sharpie. 

They all got super excited when Coy called his first crush, before he was gay. He could feel Anthony’s shoulders tense and loosen once Coy revealed that it won’t be anything because she’s a girl. They pushed each other onto the floor, somehow having Anthony on top of him. 

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, things are hurting me!” 

Anthony keeps laughing as he lies on top of Coy, probably too heavy on his chest. Coy had dreamed of Anthony on top of him, but not like this. 

“Who’s hurting you?” Will hasn’t fallen down yet. Good, because the kitchen floor is not comfortable.

That was fixed with Anthony tripping him.

Hanbon slaps Anthony’s back, “Stop it! Stop fucking him, the shoot’s not over yet!”

“I’m not fucking him!”

“Yeah, his dick’s too tiny for that,” Coy counters.

The whole room bursts with drunken laughter.

…Okay, scratch that. Coy is definitely drunk now.

Hanbon has taken the reins for the video, despite her not being better than Coy. Coy faintly remembers hugging Anthony tightly when he revealed something he has never told anyone before. He remembers shouting a lot in the shoot, something he will deal later with burning ear drums when he edits the video. I think he sang ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’ to his sober self? He needs to drink some water.

They’re back in their ‘Hot Seat’ segment, right near the end of the shoot. 

Will asks Anthony, “Um, rank us from most to least attractive.”

“Woah.” Anthony is wearing the camera glasses again, that was almost crushed underneath Hanbon’s butt on the floor. He still cannot stop looking at Coy. “Bon’s the most attractive, Will’s the second most attractive,” he points to Coy, “You look like me.”

Will is loudly celebrating his accomplishment.

“You would look like me?” Coy smirks, “Twink ass.”

“Fuck you!”

“Now, be honest. What would you rank me?” Coy pushes for it. Really nudging him. Because Anthony is definitely the second drunkest out of all of them right now, after Will. That breath analyzer doesn’t know shit, Coy thinks. He might as well push his luck to see what exactly Anthony feels for him.

Ant shrugs, “I dunno. Reverse that ranking.”

“No!” Hanbon starts slapping him again.

Will still exclaims loudly how he has won again.

Hanbon somehow knows what Coy is aiming for, then tries to bait Anthony again. “Between Will and Coy, who do you think you would be closer to?”

Even while drunk, Coy is nervous about this. He rubs his neck soothingly to calm his racing heart. Anthony had just complimented his looks again, in his joking, roundabout way that he almost never know whether he is genuine or not. He accepts his answer when Anthony answers that he has known Will for ages, so it is definitely Will over Coy. It is true, Coy can never get above Will and Anthony’s friendship, the same way Hanbon values Coy over Anthony. Will pats his back reassuringly, as if saying to ‘Keep going for it.’

“Okay, um, would you do me or my mom?” Coy blurts out. Will spits out his drink.

“Your mom.”

“Okay.” Coy laughs himself out of the room.

“No, no, come back!” Anthony laughs. “Do you want me to say you? Fine!”

“Oh no, he’s onto us,” Hanbon says between drunken giggles.

“What do you mean?” Anthony cannot stop the grin on his face. That’s when he notices the three of his friends started giggling non-stop, Hanbon slapping Coy repeatedly, wheezing the whole way. “What are you guys planning!?”

“Nothing!” Will laughs, not really putting Anthony at ease.

Coy picks up the camera from their ‘Confessional Booth’ aka their bathroom, turning it off after saying his last words. He can hear the screams of his friends from the kitchen. Berto and Yuuta will be so pissed when they find out he and Anthony made a hole in the wall. Will is already sleeping on the table and Hanbon is fighting with Anthony, again. 

Coy carefully dislodges the camera from the tripod and closes the lens. Camera on hand, he turns around to find Anthony in the doorway. 

“Get out, I wanna do my confessional.”

“The video’s over, doofus.”

“Okay.” Anthony closes the door behind him and locks the door. “I’ll do it for you, then.”

Coy gulps. He holds the camera like a lifeline. 

“That's what you want from me, right? What all you three planned all this time.” 

“Us? Taking advantage of our fellow drunk friend? Noo…” 

Anthony cages him to the counter. He lowers the hands holding the expensive camera and guides it back safely near the back of the wall on top of the table. He is getting so close to him, he can smell the beer from his breaths. 

“I should have known something was up, when you asked twice if I wanna bang you.” 

“Kinda had it coming, right?” Coy finds his words, still shaking terribly from anticipation. “You've been eyeing me like you wanna devour me.” 

“Hm.” Anthony's fingers found Coy's chin. He tilts him up, their lips so close, speaking now would result in them meeting. 

And Anthony does devour him. 

Coy almost could not keep up. His mouth opens to let him in. He drinks him until he is drowning. He messes up Anthony's stupid hair just to get closer to him. He feels hands on his waist, hoisting him up on the counter. Automatically, he spreads his legs wider to let Anthony get inside his space. 

When they stop to take a breath, Anthony kisses along his jaw. With clumsy, shaking hands, he rubs his thumb on the hint of skin above his waist, his other hand searching for his nipple atop his shirt. 

Coy whines loudly. He can't believe this is happening. Anthony's stubble is tickling his face until he moves his face to kiss him again, hungrier than before. 

Coy wraps his arms around Anthony's neck for leverage and suddenly drops down from the washbasin. He leads him backwards onto the closed toilet seat. Anthony finally gets what he is going for and sits down. Coy follows, arching on his lap. There is no more space between them. Coy's hips are glued to Anthony's hands. He can feel him hard underneath him. Coy starts to roll his hips and take pleasure in Anthony's groan. 

“Fuck,” Anthony murmurs underneath his breath. “We shouldn't be doing this.” 

“You're right.” Coy keeps rolling his hips, feeling Anthony thrust back. “Nnh– Ah! We are--s-so drunk. Fuck, Ant.” 

Despite that, Anthony made no move to stop Coy's actions. Coy's voice going higher and higher right in his ear. “I wish you'd shut up.” 

“Okay.” Coy releases Anthony's hold on him.

Before Anthony could complain, Coy sinks to his knees. 

“Slap me, or punch me if you wanna stop.” 

Anthony just stares blankly as Coy moves to his zipper. He acts so slow, giving Anthony more chances to stop this. Like hell he is. 

Coy's big green eyes look up at him one last time for consent. Ant dumbly nods his head. 

He reaches into his boxers to find his dick, embarrassingly already red, leaking, and hot just from Coy's clothed ass before. 

Coy chuckles. “Eager, are you?” 

“Just shut the fuck up and suck me already.” 

“Hm,” Coy licks the precum from the head. Anthony hisses. “You're lucky I like my men commanding.” 

Coy sucks the head first, twirling his tongue around the slit before sinking further down along the shaft. It's not the biggest he has ever had, but it's definitely above average. He backs away until only his lips touch his cock, he feels Anthony's hand gripping his hair –good–, and reaches even further in, almost to the hilt. His nose meets his pubic hair as he reaches further, feeling him on the back of his throat. He keeps himself from gagging but his eyes start getting teary. His red lips stretch at the girth. He looks up from his lashes. 

“F-fuck. Look at you. You–” Anthony groans as Coy starts to move, keeping eye contact the whole time. 

He takes Anthony well. He knows men would melt underneath his gaze while he does this, and he's glad Anthony does too. Not long after, Anthony starts taking control, fucking his throat by pulling his hair. Coy cannot stop the tears coming from his eyes. He breathes through his nose and whines pathetically around his cock, knowing the vibrations would end him. 

“Jesus christ. You're gorgeous. Fuck, C-Coy–!” 

The rhythm becomes erratic. Coy furrows his brows from the tight hold Anthony has of him. His hips start to shake. 

Coy swallows Anthony's first burst. He releases his cock with a pop and lets the second and third burst hit his face and open tongue. It leaves a dripping mess on his chin that he picks up with his index to suck. 

“Holy shit,” Anthony shudders. 

Coy just smiles at him, ‘Just smile like you usually do. That works better than your god-awful flirting.’

“Holy shit.” 

Anthony's limp cock actually jumps at that. Maybe Coy should smile at him more often. 

“Guessing you liked it?” 

“Dude, how are you so good at this?” 

“I just sucked your dick, and you're still calling me dude?” Coy snorts. “Ouch.” 

“Ugh, just, just come here–” 

“Come here? You want it again? After that fastest blowjob I've ever done?” 

“I fucking hate you.” Coy swallows Anthony's laughter. His jeans are still open for Coy to play with. His hands are grabbed by Anthony's and instead lead him to his own jeans, teasing him from the thick fabric. 

The doorknob moves. 

Three loud smacks to the door stop them from doing anything further. 

“Anthony?” Will's voice shouted. “I-I think I'm about to throw up.” 

Both of their eyes widen. As much as they want to continue this, they are not cleaning up someone's vomit. 

They quickly part ways. Coy washes his face rigorously, Anthony puts himself back in his jeans. Coy opens the door to a very sick Will and makes way for him to reach the toilet. As Anthony rubs Will's retching back, Coy grabs a glass of water for him. After making sure Will drinks, Coy finds Hanbon sleeping on the floor. He picks her up to sleep in his room instead. It's not like he'll be sleeping there tonight anyway. 

After tucking away Hanbon, he passes Anthony on the hallway, helping Will to his room. Their eyes meet for a second before focusing back on taking care of his friend. 

Coy is still high off of the adrenaline. He couldn't believe he just– deepthroated Anthony, in the bathroom, right after a shoot, with Hanbon and Will right outside. Thankfully, they're both drunk off their minds to notice. He picks up stuff from the floor, an egg, cups, glasses, the horse and peanut papers, sharpies –just to get a headstart on cleaning tomorrow. He looks at the broken wall and wonders how the hell are they explaining that to Yuuta and Berto tomorrow. 

When his head becomes far too tipsy, he gives up on cleaning to leave all of it up on the table instead. 

He automatically goes into Anthony's room. He's already lying spread eagle on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Coy closes the door softly. 

“Are you here to–”

“Yes. Also, because I won,” Coy cheekily says as he sits on his bed. 

“What?” 

“I said Will's gonna be the drunkest, so I won. Well, Bonnie also said that, but she's out of it tonight.” 

“So that's your plan, huh?” Anthony flips to his side, head resting on his palm. “Getting to my bed?” 

“I'm gonna be here regardless if I win or not.” 

“You're that confident you're gonna get laid tonight?” 

“T-that wasn't the plan.” Coy's confidence is fading. He rubs the back of his neck. “We wanted to know how far you are in, you know, figuring it out.” 

“Huh.” Anthony nods in understanding. “Well, I'm definitely bi.” 

“You think?” Coy snorts. “What gave it away? You cumming on my face or admitting you wanted to fuck me?” 

“You, shut the fuck up.” 

Coy’s hands raise in mock-defense. He stands up, “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair then.”

One step out of the door, he hears the loud squeak of springs coming from Anthony’s bed. Next thing he knew, he is slammed back into his room, pinned to the door, being devoured alive. Hands frantically searching for the end of his shirt, one pair goes to the other’s jeans. Drunken hunger destroys what is left of their logical thinking. 

Coy feels his shirt being lift up. He pauses the kiss by helping Anthony throw the fabric away. Anthony doesn’t waste a second to mouth one of his nipples. Coy whines, loudly. 

“So responsive,” Anthony lets his teeth scrape Coy’s perked up nipple and hears him shout. 

Coy puts his palm on Anthony’s mouth, “This is so stupid. We really shouldn’t– Fuck, nghh–!”

Anthony’s hand reaches into Coy’s jeans, finding his red, leaking cock to pull it out of the restraining fabric, finally. The cold air makes Coy’s little cock jump in excitement. 

“You’re right,” Anthony’s breath heaves loudly. “We should stop.”

Coy trembles from Anthony’s hold of his dick. He doesn’t even start off slowly to build up the momentum; his fists move fast and unrelenting, like it’s his only chance of touching him like this, like they are running out of time. Coy’s head hit the door. He reveals his neck to Anthony’s biting mouth. 

“Ant– A-Anth…thony…!” 

His name has never sounded so sweet coming from someone’s tongue. 

He can feel that Coy’s coming close. He stops his biting to look at Coy’s face, watching his red face come apart under his hands. Coy’s legs tremble and almost slide off the floor. With one hand, Anthony rips the jeans from Coy’s waist. He squeezes one cheek, revels in Coy’s moan getting a pitch higher, and spreads it apart to tease at his rim. Coy starts to thrust back into Anthony’s hand. His pace erratic and animalistic. Soon, his voice only know of his name. 

Anthony watches closely at Coy’s sinful expression. He is red all over, sweat sticks at his unruly hair, red lips becoming moist with saliva. His furrowed brows remind him of his face during discussions of future videos, oftentimes sucking on the head of his marker or hoodie string –something Anthony dreams of each night. His delicious sounds bounce off the walls of his room. Anthony draws each detail in memory. 

“Please, please,” Coy murmurs.

“What?”

“Inside.” Coy gulps. His eyes unfocused. “Please.”

He cannot say no to that face.

Anthony turns Coy around to face the door. He kicks his knees to spread them apart and make him arch to the wall. 

“God.”

Coy is fully nude in front of him. His ass spread wide for only his eyes to see. He finds pleasure in seeing the red all over his body, not just his cheeks and ears, but also his shoulder blades, his knees, his elbows. He stands there, still trembling from his earlier actions. While Anthony still remains fully clothed, his dick growing restrained underneath his jeans. 

“Hurry up already,” Coy says, growing embarrassed by the second.

Anthony races to the bedside table to get the lube. Once back in front of the gorgeous sight, Anthony suddenly grows uneasy. He has never done this before. He knows what he has to do, but never actually done it in practice, afraid of hurting the younger man. 

Coy looks behind him. “First day jitters?”

“I-I, uh.”

“Just hand me the lube, Ant.”

Like a gaping fish, he gives him the tube and just. Watch.

Coy’s long fingers work himself slowly. He moans around his own hands, stretching himself for Anthony’s length. His index sinks itself to the knuckle. Anthony watches in fascination as Coy curls one finger and moans loudly. Soon, his middle and ring finger join him, scissoring himself open under Anthony’s heated gaze. He notes how much lube Coy uses, seeing its excess drip down his pink hole to Anthony’s floor. Can’t help himself, he reaches to one stray bead of lube to spread along his asscheeks, making it shiny. 

Coy grunts as he pulls out his fingers. “‘M ready.” He tosses back the lube to Anthony’s clumsy hands. “Slick yourself up.”

“I know what to do.”

“Then stop gaping and fuck me already.”

Already annoyed by Coy’s bitchy attitude, he unzips his jeans in one hand and squeezes Coy’s hip with the other until he knows it will leave a mark tomorrow. He gave his cock a few strokes with the slick lube before finally, finally, pushing into his hole. They both groan from the tight clench. Coy forces himself to relax as Anthony keeps pushing until the hilt. His hands grasp at nothing so his hands slam into the door repeatedly instead, unknowingly awakening their roommates. 

Anthony grips his hair and pull it closer towards him. “Keep it down, or we might need to explain ourselves tomorrow.”

“I don’t care.”

Anthony starts to thrust roughly. “You’re crazy.”

Coy arch towards Anthony’s unrelenting pace. His dick is left untouched, finding the only friction with the door. At each thrust, he comes closer and closer to his prostate. Coy helps to aim it better by pushing himself back, eventually hitting his sweet spot, shouting at the pleasurable sensation. 

“Th-there! Hit there!”

Anthony holds Coy’s hips with both hands and thrusts at the spot repeatedly. Coy sees stars each time. Pre-cum beads on his untouched cock and start to leave a mess on Anthony’s poor door. Anthony chases his climax, eventually leaving the rhythm they had for something more animalistic. He growls at Coy’s ever-higher whining. He can never hear the man sing again without thinking of how sinful he sounded now. 

Soon, he can feel Coy come undone with a shout; his spurts litter his door, some even fall to his floor. He still moans at Anthony’s thrusts, oversensitive. It’s not long before Anthony reaches his peak. Warm bursts of cum fill Coy with a groan. As Anthony pulls himself out slowly, he revels at the sight of his own cum dripping from Coy’s abused hole, leaving with a string connecting to his limp cock. 

Coy slides down to the floor, his head bowed down from exhaustion. Anthony soon joins him. Coy turns around to face him. They’re both still panting, sweat sliding off their skin, red all over. 

“Holy shit.” Anthony breaks the silence.

Coy stays quiet, reality hits him.

He looks at Anthony’s guitar hung on the wall. The fan mail he framed proudly to the side. His Perry the Platypus plushie Coy often stole from his bed. Then, the snores of Berto from the other room. The flush of a toilet followed by a thud from the toilet seat closing. The front door opening to signal Yuuta had just come home.

“Holy shit,” Coy repeats, hand sliding across his face, hiding his shame. 

He wants to get out. But he can’t because Hanbon is sleeping in his bed right now. Or maybe she’s awake after hearing him–

“Fuck.” Coy’s knees come to hide his face fully from Anthony.

Anthony turns his head to Coy. “Just sleep on my bed.”

“But I– Fuck, Ant, I can’t believe–”

“I know.” Anthony picks at Coy’s shirt not far from him, along with his pants and briefs to throw across Coy’s naked body. “It’s okay. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Coy still sits unmoving in his place. They just– did that. With their three, now four, roommates in the house. While drunk out of their mind. He can still taste the cheap whiskey mixed with Sprite from Anthony’s tongue. 

“C’mon. Up ya go.” Anthony lends a hand to Coy’s leaning body. He leads him to his bed, covering him with his bedsheets. He sits beside him, above the sheets. “Sleep. We’ll deal with them tomorrow.”

They stare at the ceiling for a while, listening to the footsteps of Yuuta in the kitchen, possibly making himself a sandwich, before the steps led to the third floor into his own room. A second pair of footsteps goes to the bathroom for a moment before going back to Coy’s room, probably Hanbon. Coy sinks himself deeper into the sheets, suddenly becoming cold.

“Ant?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you grab my clothes?”

Coy dresses himself quietly in the corner, despite knowing Anthony has seen everything from him already. He notices his jeans have a little bit of cum splattered at the side, from him or Anthony, he couldn’t quite know. He swallows his desire to smell the difference.

“This is not what I had in mind, by the way,” Anthony cuts through the silence.

“What? Fucking my brains out?”

“No, well, eventually I guess, yes.” Anthony stutters. “I wanted to take you out first. On a proper date, maybe. Get some cheap bouquet I can hide behind my back. See you in a tux.”

Coy smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Anthony smiles back. It was short-lived once he remembered. “I-I know we had the, the rule. It won’t be great for the channel if we, y’know, if we…”

Coy nods, understanding. “I get it.”

Anthony drowns himself in unease. He was never like this. He can always hold himself back from doing something stupid, even amid being inebriated. 

Coy sees through him. He finds his hands to hold it tightly. They share a look and exchange reassuring smiles. 

“Now get to sleep.”

“Okay, Mom.” Anthony reaches beside him to turn off the lights.