A 50ficlets ficlet. Prompt: Missing You
(Sorry about the redundancy with someone living on a high floor in a building with a non-working elevator. I actually wrote most of this piece before I wrote Make Something Of Me.)
Drake was out of breath by the time he had climbed to the twelfth floor. It figured Josh would live on the top floor of a building with a broken elevator, Drake thought ruefully. His luck certainly hadn't changed. Hoisting the straps of his guitar case and overnight bag higher on his shoulder, Drake yanked the fire door open and struggled through it. It swung shut behind him more quickly than he expected, sending him stumbling into the hallway as it slammed against the neck of his guitar. He managed to right himself before he pitched forward on his face, but only just. With an irritated grunt, he adjusted the shoulder straps again and stomped off down the hallway.
The window at the end of the hall showed a sky just beginning to grow light. The hallway was empty and quiet. Drake could hear someone's TV behind one of the doors he passed, but he had the impression the other rooms were all unoccupied. Either that, or it was too early for anyone who hadn't stayed up all night to be up and about. The sound of his worn boot heels clocking against the tile floor echoed loudly in his ears.
A dry erase board was attached to the door of Josh's room, a plastic pen dangling next to it on the end of a long black string. Messages and obscene doodles were scrawled across the face of it. Someone -- Josh, from the looks of the handwriting -- had meticulously scrubbed a clean patch in the middle and written DO NOT DISTURB in large block letters, with THIS MEANS YOU, THOMPSON in smaller letters below. Drake shrugged so the strap of his overnight bag slipped from his shoulder, and it tumbled to the floor at his feet as he rapped sharply on the door. Nothing happened. He knocked again, more loudly this time, and a raspy voice floated out from behind the door.
"Read the sign."
"Josh," Drake said, pounding on the door now with the side of his fist. "Open up."
"Get lost, I'm trying to sleep."
Drake pounded harder. "Josh, it's me!"
A pause, and then Josh's voice came through the door again, closer this time, as though he were standing right behind it. "Me who?"
"Me Drake."
"Drake? What the --" The lock clicked and the door cracked open a few inches, just enough for Drake to get a glimpse of one sleepy, red-rimmed eye. "Drake!" Josh said, jerking the door open all the way. "Whoa, dude, you surprised me. What are you doing here?" His expression grew tense. "Is something wrong at home?"
"No, man, everything's cool." Drake bent to retrieve his overnight bag. The neck of his guitar rose up over his back as he did so, catching Josh squarely in the stomach. He staggered back with a strangled "oof," clutching his arms around his abdomen. "Sorry," Drake said, stepping into the dark room beyond.
Josh closed the door behind him and flicked on the light. Drake took a quick look around as he set his stuff down on a chair. The room was smaller than the one they'd shared together at home, and smelled faintly of dirty sweatsocks and stale coffee. The odor was familiar and comforting, the smell of his teen years, and he inhaled deeply. The knot of tension that had been growing tighter all night started to unravel in his chest.
"So what are you doing here?" Josh asked, rubbing gingerly at his belly.
"I was worried about you, man."
Josh's hand stilled. "You were?"
"Yeah. You didn't sound so good on the phone last night."
"So, what, did you drive all night to get here?"
"Well, yeah. As soon as the show was over, I hopped in the car."
Josh's lips curved in a shy smile as his eyes darted away from Drake's face down to the floor. "Thanks, brotha," he said softly, enfolding Drake in a tight hug.
"Any time, man," Drake said, pulling away reluctantly. Josh's hugs always made things better. He'd missed that. "You know I'm always here for you."
"Even when the 'here' is three hundred miles away?"
Drake shrugged. "You'd do the same for me, right?"
"Sure I would."
"Okay, then." Drake sat down on the edge of Josh's bed and started pulling on one of his boots. His feet were killing him. "So what was wrong with you last night, anyway?"
"Um," Josh replied, looking suddenly embarrassed, and Drake dropped the boot to the floor with a puzzled frown. Josh gave a uncomfortable laugh. "Wow, this is awkward," he said.
"What?" Drake said. He gulped. "You didn't get Mindy -- she isn't --"
"No," Josh said swiftly. "No. Nothing like that."
"Then what, man? Spit it out!"
"All right! Um, it's just... I was hungry, see. You called right after my last class and I hadn't eaten since breakfast and I was, um... just trying to get off the phone so I could... order a pizza."
Drake blinked. "A pizza."
"Yeah. With pepperoni."
"Pepperoni."
"And sausage?"
"Josh!"
"I'm sorry, man! How was I supposed to know you were going to come all the way up here?"
Drake blew his bangs out of his eyes with an irritated sigh.
"You mad?" Josh ventured, wincing.
Drake studied him for a moment. "No," he said at last. His tone sounded severe but he couldn't suppress the smile starting to form around the corners of his mouth. He shook his head. "Did you leave me some, at least?"
Josh pointed to the garbage can, where a pizza box was wedged corner first. "Sure. Help yourself."
"Fuck you, dude," Drake said, laughing. "I tell you what. I'm gonna catch a few hours of sleep, and then you are taking me out for some breakfast."
"I have a class --"
"Breakfast!"
"Okay, okay. Breakfast. No need to freak out." Josh grinned. "I forgot how cranky you can get when you don't get enough sleep. Jeez."
My 50ficlets table is here.
Drake was out of breath by the time he had climbed to the twelfth floor. It figured Josh would live on the top floor of a building with a broken elevator, Drake thought ruefully. His luck certainly hadn't changed. Hoisting the straps of his guitar case and overnight bag higher on his shoulder, Drake yanked the fire door open and struggled through it. It swung shut behind him more quickly than he expected, sending him stumbling into the hallway as it slammed against the neck of his guitar. He managed to right himself before he pitched forward on his face, but only just. With an irritated grunt, he adjusted the shoulder straps again and stomped off down the hallway.
The window at the end of the hall showed a sky just beginning to grow light. The hallway was empty and quiet. Drake could hear someone's TV behind one of the doors he passed, but he had the impression the other rooms were all unoccupied. Either that, or it was too early for anyone who hadn't stayed up all night to be up and about. The sound of his worn boot heels clocking against the tile floor echoed loudly in his ears.
A dry erase board was attached to the door of Josh's room, a plastic pen dangling next to it on the end of a long black string. Messages and obscene doodles were scrawled across the face of it. Someone -- Josh, from the looks of the handwriting -- had meticulously scrubbed a clean patch in the middle and written DO NOT DISTURB in large block letters, with THIS MEANS YOU, THOMPSON in smaller letters below. Drake shrugged so the strap of his overnight bag slipped from his shoulder, and it tumbled to the floor at his feet as he rapped sharply on the door. Nothing happened. He knocked again, more loudly this time, and a raspy voice floated out from behind the door.
"Read the sign."
"Josh," Drake said, pounding on the door now with the side of his fist. "Open up."
"Get lost, I'm trying to sleep."
Drake pounded harder. "Josh, it's me!"
A pause, and then Josh's voice came through the door again, closer this time, as though he were standing right behind it. "Me who?"
"Me Drake."
"Drake? What the --" The lock clicked and the door cracked open a few inches, just enough for Drake to get a glimpse of one sleepy, red-rimmed eye. "Drake!" Josh said, jerking the door open all the way. "Whoa, dude, you surprised me. What are you doing here?" His expression grew tense. "Is something wrong at home?"
"No, man, everything's cool." Drake bent to retrieve his overnight bag. The neck of his guitar rose up over his back as he did so, catching Josh squarely in the stomach. He staggered back with a strangled "oof," clutching his arms around his abdomen. "Sorry," Drake said, stepping into the dark room beyond.
Josh closed the door behind him and flicked on the light. Drake took a quick look around as he set his stuff down on a chair. The room was smaller than the one they'd shared together at home, and smelled faintly of dirty sweatsocks and stale coffee. The odor was familiar and comforting, the smell of his teen years, and he inhaled deeply. The knot of tension that had been growing tighter all night started to unravel in his chest.
"So what are you doing here?" Josh asked, rubbing gingerly at his belly.
"I was worried about you, man."
Josh's hand stilled. "You were?"
"Yeah. You didn't sound so good on the phone last night."
"So, what, did you drive all night to get here?"
"Well, yeah. As soon as the show was over, I hopped in the car."
Josh's lips curved in a shy smile as his eyes darted away from Drake's face down to the floor. "Thanks, brotha," he said softly, enfolding Drake in a tight hug.
"Any time, man," Drake said, pulling away reluctantly. Josh's hugs always made things better. He'd missed that. "You know I'm always here for you."
"Even when the 'here' is three hundred miles away?"
Drake shrugged. "You'd do the same for me, right?"
"Sure I would."
"Okay, then." Drake sat down on the edge of Josh's bed and started pulling on one of his boots. His feet were killing him. "So what was wrong with you last night, anyway?"
"Um," Josh replied, looking suddenly embarrassed, and Drake dropped the boot to the floor with a puzzled frown. Josh gave a uncomfortable laugh. "Wow, this is awkward," he said.
"What?" Drake said. He gulped. "You didn't get Mindy -- she isn't --"
"No," Josh said swiftly. "No. Nothing like that."
"Then what, man? Spit it out!"
"All right! Um, it's just... I was hungry, see. You called right after my last class and I hadn't eaten since breakfast and I was, um... just trying to get off the phone so I could... order a pizza."
Drake blinked. "A pizza."
"Yeah. With pepperoni."
"Pepperoni."
"And sausage?"
"Josh!"
"I'm sorry, man! How was I supposed to know you were going to come all the way up here?"
Drake blew his bangs out of his eyes with an irritated sigh.
"You mad?" Josh ventured, wincing.
Drake studied him for a moment. "No," he said at last. His tone sounded severe but he couldn't suppress the smile starting to form around the corners of his mouth. He shook his head. "Did you leave me some, at least?"
Josh pointed to the garbage can, where a pizza box was wedged corner first. "Sure. Help yourself."
"Fuck you, dude," Drake said, laughing. "I tell you what. I'm gonna catch a few hours of sleep, and then you are taking me out for some breakfast."
"I have a class --"
"Breakfast!"
"Okay, okay. Breakfast. No need to freak out." Josh grinned. "I forgot how cranky you can get when you don't get enough sleep. Jeez."
My 50ficlets table is here.