bbang: love like a sunset, part 4/4

[stttmsbwa]

It wasn’t as if he was out the entire time. He recalls waking up briefly as the paramedics pull him out of the car and lay him out onto the stretcher. He thinks they asked him some questions, which he may or may not have answered.

The next time his eyes flutter open, he’s being wheeled through some swinging doors, and he can hear the sound of voices shouting things that his brain won’t process. He groans and tries to sit up, but firm hands press against his chest and make him forget about anything but laying back down and falling into another dreamless sleep.

Drake doesn’t know where he is when his eyelids peel apart again, but there aren’t voices and he isn’t moving, so he can only assume that he’s in a room somewhere. That’s how hospitals work, after all. Reaching around with his right hand, he can feel all the thin tubes stuck in his arms and down his nose. It’s a little annoying and concerning, but Drake can’t feel anything but numbness, so he’s pretty sure at least one of them is pumping some drugs into his system and he really can’t complain about that.

It smells stale and eerie he thinks, crinkling his nose and lifting his head up a little to take a look at his surroundings. The room he’s stuck in isn’t too terrible, he supposes. Floral decorations on the wall and light blue curtains. Nothing too flashy but nothing too nondescript.

When Drake attempts to sit up fully, he realizes that there’s a weight against his left arm. Still groggy from the sleep and the drugs, he rubs at his eyes with his free hand and glances down.

The sight of mussed dark hair contrasts heavily with the white sheets of Drake’s bed. Frowning, Drake wiggles his left arm and pokes with his right hand.

“Hey. You’re sleeping on me.”

The head of hair twitches before rolling to the side. Drake smiles and can’t help but let a small giggle escape from between his lips.

“I see you, Josh.”

Sitting up quickly, Josh’s chest heaves with a deep breath as he stares at Drake’s blissed out form.

“You’re awake.”

“Am I? I can’t tell. I feel really weird.”

“You - you’re - “ Drake watches as Josh bends his head down and buries his face in his hands. He doesn’t really know what to think of the whole situation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, he knows that something’s not right.

“Josh?”

Drake reaches a hand out to rest on Josh’s shaking shoulders. Hearing a deep choking sound, Drake tugs at Josh’s shirt, urging him closer. Josh follows his pulls and slides up towards Drake’s chest, resting his head in the crook of Drake’s left arm. Through the thin bed sheets, Drake can feel warm wetness gathering and soaking into his skin.

“It’s okay, Josh,” he coos, his words slurring and his eyes unfocusing with every second. He runs the fingers of his right hand through Josh’s hair, yanking softly at the tangles and scratching gently at his scalp.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he says as he feels the burden of his open eyelashes slowly dragging him down and down into another deep sleep.



When Drake wakes up again, he can feel the soft touch of someone else’s fingers trailing through his hair. Eyes shooting open, Drake is instantly conscious of himself and his current situation.

“What happened?” Looking up for the face of the person soothing his head, Drake is slightly disappointed to find his mother instead of Josh.

His mother. Thinking about it for a second, Drake realizes that after all these weeks of confusion and self pity, he’d kind of forgotten about his mom. The guilt washes over him as he examines her weary face and her bloodshot eyes.

“You were in an accident, honey,” she replies after a moment, clearing her throat before speaking. “You’ve been out for almost two days now.”

Drake sighs and closes his eyes briefly, leaning into his mother’s gentle touch. When he opens his eyes again, he pulls away from his mother’s hand and opens his arms.




Drake’s awake the next time Josh enters the room, the day after his mother had explained to him how he’d been hit by another driver running a red light - smashing into the driver’s side of his car, bruising three of his ribs and nearly shattering his jar.

They’re the only people there, Drake’s mother at work and Josh obviously ditching school for the occasion.

Josh closes the door behind him, back pressing against it as it clicks shut. Drake closes the notebook that he’d been scribbling in, trying to find the words he wanted to say about everything he hadn’t been saying for so long.

As Josh steps away from the door and makes his way towards Drake’s bed he clears his throat and gives Drake a small smile.

“Goddammit. You’re still better looking than me.”

Drake immediately raises his fingers to trace the stitches that snaked across his chin. The remnants of a nearly deadly injury. Seatbelts and airbags, they actually do save lives it turns out. Josh frowns as he watches Drake’s movements, reaching out his own hand to join Drake’s own.

“Hey.”

Biting his lip nervously, Drake locks eyes with Josh and replies, “Hey back.”

Josh’s eyes start to water a little as he softly traces lines around the skin of Drake’s chin, trailing upward to cheeks and beneath the eyes. Drake sighs and pulls away from Josh’s touch, trying to ignore the pained look on Josh’s face.

“Why are you here?”

Josh rolls his eyes. “So it’s improper for a guy to visit his best friend in the hospital now, eh?”

“No. I mean. Aren’t you angry at me? About - you know. Stuff?”

Nodding, Josh crosses his arms and settles himself on the edge of the hospital bed.

“Let’s just say that I spoke to the right sources and got my story straight.”

“Oh really.”

Josh nods again. “Yeah. I interrogated Mr. Trainor until he told me about your idea for a GSA at the school. And how he was pushing you to be the president. And how you weren’t very comfortable with being the school’s first ever president of a Gay Straight Alliance, because then everyone would know how gay you really are.”

Drake confirms Josh’s statements with a shrug of his shoulders.

“And, oh yes, how you and he were definitively not fucking in any shape way or form. He was quite adamant about that. Was pretty adamant about his heterosexuality, too. Which, honestly, I was a little caught off guard about.”

Feeling his cheeks flush a little, trying not to remember the utter embarrassment that he’d experienced when his pathetic come-on to Jerry had been humorously turned down when he’d whipped out a picture of his fiancé, Drake licks his lips and refrains from answering.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me? Why? I’m your best friend, Drake. You used to tell me everything. Why hide this? If it was nothing, then why did you make it something?”

When Drake looks up, he sees Josh’s face contorting with emotion. He can hear the heart monitor beeping faster as his heart beats quicken and the words start slipping out.

“You never - Josh, you’re so unreadable sometimes. I mean, you treat me like you always have in public, in the hallways where we don’t hold hands and we don’t kiss, but at the same time you’ve always got another arm around Devon, too. And then the next day you’re cornering me in the bathroom with your tongue down my throat, telling me to be the kid’s best friend.”

“So we’re back to Devon, now?”

“No! I mean, yes, but really it’s you. You, Josh.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Josh opens his mouth to argue back but Drake continues.

“Why didn’t we ever talk about this?” Drake waves a hand in the air, gesturing to the invisible tension that hung between them. “How do you go from being friends to screwing around the next day? You never even told me you were gay! Why was nothing ever figured out?!”

Josh slams his fist on the hospital table, knocking over a small cup. The sound of the thin plastic clattering to the floor and splashing water all over the tile is enough to silence Drake for a moment.

“Bullshit,” Josh seethes. “It’s not like you ever had your own coming out party, Drake.”

“Oh, fuck you. You knew. You’ve known for years.”

“Yeah, and I also know how deep in the closet you are about it. Afraid of what your mom will say, of what people at school will think. And yeah, I never told you, but you never asked. If you had, I would have told you that I don’t really care about gender or whatever. Because I don’t. I’m not afraid. But you are. You are, Drake. You’re terrified. So maybe that’s why I snuck around. I was giving you what I thought you wanted - privacy. Security that your big, dark secret wouldn’t get out. Because you’re my friend and I care about you. But it wasn’t enough. You had to worry yourself into a hole and then push me away. All this panic and drama for nothing. Nothing, Drake! Because, guess what? We’re here at the big revelation scene and nobody is fucking anybody.”

Josh inhales heavily and rubs his face with his hand.

“What did you think would happen? That we’d laugh over your insecurities and my misunderstandings and be a big happy love story? It’s not that fucking simple. And this isn’t about Trainor and this isn’t about Devon. It’s you. You fucked up and you hurt me. And I don’t know how easily I can just let this go.”

As Josh trails off, they stay in silence with their eyes purposefully not finding each other. Drake scratches at the needle stuck in his arm as he opens his mouth.

“So what now,” he whispers. “What are we now?”

Josh shrugs. “I don’t know about you, but I’m still me. Who are you?”

“And what the hell does that mean?”

“Maybe it means that you should stop being afraid of labels and expectations and other people’s opinions and of yourself.” Josh trails his fingers up Drake’s arm, reaching and stopping at the nape of Drake’s neck, stroking lightly at the freckled skin. Drake shivers as Josh leans down so close that their noses are almost touching. The ghost of Josh’s lips haunt Drake as he silently wills them to press against his own.

“Just be, Drake. Be whoever it is that you are.”

Drake can’t formulate a response and Josh has nothing else to say, stepping away and walking back out the door. When he’s gone, Drake clenches his eyes shut and wills himself to not cry.



When the door opens again just three hours later, Drake’s head shoots up, but his lips twist into a small frown when he sees that it isn’t Josh. Amanda approaches the bed and wraps her arms securely around herself as she gazes down at Drake.

“He’s not the only one upset, you know,” she mutters, reading Drake’s thoughts off his facial expressions. He grimaces with guilt when he sees the hurt in her eyes.

“I - I don’t even know what to say to you. I mean, I wish you had just trusted me. I could have helped you. I could have told you that you were being stupid for hiding all this from everybody. I would have been there for you, like always. Why, Drake? What did I do to make you think you couldn’t talk to me?”

He feels his shame building in his chest and he throws a desperate hand out to wrap around Amanda’s wrist. She squeaks, but lets Drake drag her closer.

“Amanda. I’m sorry. I just - there was so much going on and I was just too scared of myself. I didn’t know what I was doing. I royally fucked up. I don’t - I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.

She sniffles a little and Drake’s terrified that she’s about to cry, but instead she grins and nudges Drake to move over as she climbs into the bed with him.

“Well,” she says as she works an arm around Drake’s waist and rests her head on his chest. “I’m not saying I’m ready to forgive you just yet.”

“I don’t blame you. I’ve been a total asshole lately.”

“Very true. But you can start winning back my love by telling me everything, straight from the beginning.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Okay. Well, you see, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much - Ow!”

Amanda giggles as Drake rubs the sore area on his shoulder where she had smacked him. He tries to scowl at her, but her giggles infect him and soon he’s chiming in with his own as he wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“The more recent beginning, you moron.”

“Picky, picky. Okay. For real. It kind of started when, when…” Drake hesitates as he grapples with some idea of when everything with Josh had started going downhill.

“You know, I don’t think it’s one simple thing that led to all these problems. I think it just proves that I’ve been unsure and scared of myself ever since I was a kid.”

Amanda sighs and tightens her hold around Drake’s side. “Honey, I don’t think anyone knows who they are. Especially right now. Don’t you watch teen movies?”

“I mean more so, though. Like, I’ve been so subconsciously set on living exactly how people think I should. Too afraid to live how I want to.”

The weight of Amanda’s head against his body is warm and comforting as he pauses to reflect on his words.

“I guess. I guess I don’t know how to just be.”

Amanda lifts her head a little to catch Drake’s eyes.

“So do it. Just be. Fuck the world and its expectations. Be who you want to be.”

Drake sighs and closes his eyes.

“I’m gonna try. I am.”



Drake makes a list of things that he knows about himself. It’s a short list (because he leaves out the stupid and insignificant things that don’t really tell him anything he needs to know), but it’s a start.

So far he knows that he

1. is a terrible son.
2. no longer has a car.
3. is probably a little gay.
4. plays the guitar really well.
5. on second thought, most likely gay. Very gay. Yes. Gay.
6. is hopelessly in love with his best friend who hates him and probably won’t speak to him ever again.
7. is destined to grow old and die alone. And gay.

And, okay, maybe some parts aren’t so much stuff about him as they are his (extremely negative) self projections, but whatever. Close enough.

He’s released from the hospital a few days after The Day, and he’s sitting at the table eating dinner with his mother (which seems like the first time in too long, only further emphasizing the fact that he is indeed a terrible son), he realizes that there are parts about himself that he should probably get out into the open.

“So, you and that Bynes girl are pretty close, huh?”

Drake halts the spoonful of potatoes he had been guiding to his mouth, turning his head to find his mother casually slicing her chicken breast with her knife and fork.

“Don’t think I was spying or anything, but I saw you two together the other day. You looked pretty cozy. I just thought I would ask, since it seems as though you don’t tell me anything these days.”

He lets the spoon reach his mouth and swallows the potatoes. It tastes like soggy cardboard as it slides down his throat.

“Amanda’s a friend, Mom.” Drake gulps and tires to hide the tremble in his voice. “Besides. Um. I - I should have told you this sooner but, I’m gay.”

Drake feels his heart dropping into his stomach with the potatoes as he waits for his mother’s response. He watches as she nods her head slowly before she drops her silverware and locks eyes with Drake.

“I thought so. I’ve had an idea for a while now.”

The clenching feeling in Drake’s abdomen releases a little as Drake realizes that nothing dramatic is happening, and that, once again, life is throwing him an absurdly anticlimactic turn of events.

Sighing into another mouthful of potatoes, Drake mutters, “Just thought you should know.”

When his mother reaches a hand out to still his own, Drake looks up to find her eyes shining with almost-shed tears.”

“Do we need to have the obligatory, ‘I still love you and will always love you because you are my son, gay or not’ speech?”

“We don’t need to if you don’t want to. I’m just sick of finding out that people know me better than I seem to.”

Drake’s mom laughs a little and lets go of his hand.

“Maybe you should stop hiding yourself away and get out there so you can find out yourself. I know you’re a teenager and it seems like your job to dramatize everything, but don’t you think it would be nice to just simply be for once?”

He bites his tongue, refraining from any response at all. And for the billionth time since Josh had spoken those words to him - just be - all Drake wants to do is to, please, just know how already.

“Instead of trying to find yourself, maybe you should think of it as creating yourself.”

Drake’s stomach twists a little, catching the small smile on his mother’s face. He tells himself he needs to buy her a bouquet. She truly is an amazing, beautiful woman.

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. And just remember: if you get AIDs, I will kill you.”




The worst part of going back to school isn’t when the entire school keeps coming up to him and telling him things like, “I heard about your accident,” “Holy shit man, how are you?” and “Did you get the jaws of life?”

And it isn’t when Miranda finds him and begins to bawl all over his shoulder, apologizing for all her snooping and meddling. Drake forgives her, of course, and even adds in a few apologies of his own as well as plenty of scheduled mentor meetings.

And neither is it when Jerry - Mr. Trainor asks him to stay after class so they can talk about things Drake would rather like to forget. He realizes, though, as Mr. Trainor starts talking about things that he finds a part of himself agreeing with it all.

No, the worst part is Josh.

Josh, who Drake doesn’t drive to school any more because his car is demolished and Amanda has to pick him up now, although Drake knows that if he had a car that Josh wouldn’t be there in the morning or the afternoon.

Josh, who Drake sees in the hallways and sometimes in class, sometimes with Devon or other friends but more often alone.

Josh, who used to climb up Drake’s tree at least three days a week, who’d drag Drake up to the roof, who hadn’t spoken or even looked at Drake since That Day at the hospital.

It was all really starting to grate on Drake. Amanda kept telling him to just give Josh time, but as the days turned into weeks, Drake was starting to look at 20 days of no Josh. And it was really starting to kill him, inside and out.

As he walks to the bathroom after school, he supposes that perhaps Josh and he picked the perfect time for a falling out, now that he was spending so much time organizing the first GSA meeting with Jerry. Although sometimes Drake likes to play pretend in his mind, imagining what it would be like if Josh were involved, too. It does funny things to Drake’s chest, so he tries not to do it very often.

He swings the door to the boy’s room open, taking deep breaths like that guy in the yoga video he’s been doing with Amanda and Miranda (because they apparently bonded in a girlish sort-of-way when Drake was in the hospital and Miranda was overwhelmed with guilt and Amanda needed someone to raid her basement freezer’s stash of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream with) to help reduce his stress levels, but stopping suddenly when he walks right into his worst nightmare.

There’s two boys crowding another into the stall, their scowling faces sticking out from the open door to send Drake a dangerous look.

“Hey! Get the fuck outta here!”

“Yeah, or else you’re next.”

Drake’s immediate reaction is to turn heel and stumble back into Mr. Trainor’s room, but he stops himself. His sharp inhales and heavy exhales seem to echo off the tiled walls and floors. He can hear the small struggles from the trapped boy.

“Didn’t you hear me, asshole? We’re busy. Get. Out.”

“Look man, it’s that faggot who got into that car accident.”

The two boys exchange malicious grins and Drake can feel his feet pulling him closer to the stall.

“You better let that kid go,” he heard himself say, even though he’s pretty sure he’d never, ever say anything that demanding to two guys who could easily beat him up. He hadn’t even said “please.” Does one say “please” to bullies?

Drake knows from his past experiences, though, that the answer is no. No pleases when it comes to assholes who think they can push you around.

“Oh really. What you gonna do, huh? Gonna teach us a lesson on how not to pick on fairies like you and this little cocksucker?”

And when Drake finally sees who’s wiggling under the clutches of the two thugs, Drake growls and lunges. Doesn’t even think, just throws himself at the taller one and pulls his fist back for a punch.

His punch never hits home, though, because the other guy lets go of his captive and sucker punches Drake in the stomach before he can make it. Drake feels himself fall to the ground, gasping for air as he feels the other guy yanking him up by his shirt and cursing in his face before planting a heavy fist against his right cheek.

It happens so fast that when the two guys finally leave, Drake still can’t breath, can’t feel anything but the pain in his jaw.

“Hey. Hey, you okay?”

Drake struggles to sit up, his hand instantly reaching up to tenderly pat his stinging cheek.

“I think so,” he mumbles, struggling to stand. A hand appears in front of his face and Drake follows the arm up to find Devon standing over him, face steady and his clothes rumpled. He takes Devon’s hand and lets himself be pulled up by the younger boy.

“Thanks.”

“No,” Devon shoots back quickly. “Thank you. You, ah, kind of saved my ass there. Or, well, my head from getting a swirly I should say.”

“Jesus, they still doing that shit to you all?”

“‘You all’ as in collective group of people that get picked on, or ‘you all’ as in faggots?”

Drake sighs and Devon grins widely.

“Teasing, Bell. Just teasing. But really, thanks a lot.”

“What are you still doing here anyway?”

Devon’s gaze falls to the ground as he grins sheepishly and replies, “I was kind of pacing down the hallway, debating on whether or not I should peek my head in on a certain club. You know, see if there’s anything I could do to join. I’m kind of really interested.”

It takes Drake a few seconds of watching Devon’s face shimmer with giddy anxiety to realize what Devon is talking about.

“What, the GSA? You want to join?”

Devon nods and Drake can’t help but bark out a small laugh.

“The irony of my life never ceases to amaze me.” When Devon stares at him with question, Drake sighs and rakes his hand through his hair. “Remember that one time I tried to talk to you and you told me you were going to win Josh from me?”

The flush that floods Devon’s face matches the nervous twitch that develops under his left eye as he stutters, “Um. Y-yeah. About that. I - “

“Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I was going to ask you, y’know, questions about this kind of stuff. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to be the President, since I didn’t really have the balls to do it. But now - now it’s something I really believe in, and I’m really excited to get it started, you know?”

Devon nods softly, a broad grin developing across his face.

“So. I’ve been talking to Josh a lot recently.”

Drake licks his lips and raises his eyebrows in a, “Oh really?” kind of way. Devon’s eyes glint impishly.

“He misses you.”

“Mmmm.”

“A lot.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“You should talk to him.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I think you should,” Devon sighs as he slings and arm around Drake’s waist to guide him to the door. The touch makes Drake flinch away a little, because nobody has touched him like that since Josh, but he shakes it off and lets Devon push him through the door and down the hallway.

“In the meantime, I want in with the Faggots Like Us club.”

“Gay-Straight Alliance.”

“Same thing.”

“You need to stop hanging out with Josh.”

“You need to fuck the poor man already. He’s getting insufferable with his pining and shit.”

“Devon!” Drake exclaims, feeling the blush rush down his neck as well as the tiny tugs of want in his stomach.

“What?! I’m just saying. Make up, make out, fuck around, get busy, get happy. It’s a great transgression in my opinion.”

Drake can only shake his head in exasperation as Devon blathers on.

“Anyway, I’ve been thinking. Vice President sounds really cool. Can I be that?”

“Amanda’s already got that position.”

“Okay, I’ve been thinking. Treasurer sounds really cool. Can I be that?”

“Miranda.”

Devon exhales loudly. “Okay. I’ve been thinking. Secretary sounds really cool. Can I be that, or has another one of your goddamn fag hags already taken the whole array of positions and I’ll just be reduced to the groupie fag boy who, like, totally fucking loves you all for letting us be who we really are!”

When Drake bursts into laughter and Devon beams back at him, Drake supposes that maybe Josh had been right the whole time. Devon was kind of a scream.

And as they walk into the room and Drake prepares to announce to everyone that Devon Werkheiser is the new Secretary of the GSA, Drake figures that if Josh was right about Devon then maybe Devon is right about Josh.

He starts to plan out his course of action for the upcoming night.




Drake sits on his bed, legs folded beneath him as he gnaws gently on his right thumbnail. Eyes glued to the window. Sitting. Sitting. Waiting.

He shoots a quick glance at the clock on his dresser. Seven minutes till midnight. His eyes fly back to the window, hoping that maybe he’ll be saved by the ever familiar tapping at the glass.

Sighing, Drake pushes himself off the bed and decides that it’s time. This is his thing to do and he’s not going to wait for someone else to make the move for him.

He slips his feet into a pair of shoes and throws on a jacket. Grabbing his backpack, packed and ready to go for hours already, Drake walks slowly to the window and fingers the wooden sill.

He remembers when Josh first lit a cigarette. They were twelve. Josh was sitting on Drake’s window sill, legs dangling and hair curing into his eyes as he bent over to clumsily light a Virginia Slim he’d stolen from his mother. He had coughed and gagged at the first inhale, but quickly recovered. When he’d offered Drake a drag, Drake had refused at first. But like all things with Josh, Drake only lasted so long before giving in.

Drake smiles a little at the memory, sliding his fingers across the wood grain as he pulls the window open. He places one foot out onto the rough material of the shingles, trying not to laugh as he recalls the first time he’d shown Josh how easy it was to climb out onto the roof.

They were ten and it was a sleepover and they were telling ghost stories that were really only rip offs of old Goosebumps episodes. And as they lay huddled under Drake’s covers, Josh had whispered a secret into Drake’s ear.

“You’re my best friend. When we’re older, I’m taking you to New York and we’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together, like best friends should. And we’ll tell each other stories every night and we’ll never forget that we’re not one without the other.”

Drake had shivered with excitement at the thought of spending the rest of his life best friends with Josh. So he’d smiled and nodded his head and grabbed Josh’s hand.

“Come on. I wanna show you something.”

Josh had grinned ear to ear when Drake led him out onto the roof. They had dragged the comforter with them, letting it wrap them together as they laid out beneath the stars, planning all their future adventures.

“We’ll climb the Empire State building!”

“And swim to the Statue of Liberty!”

The roof had been their escape, their return to their future plannings. It became their meet-up place, their sitting-place, their everything place.

As Drake stands up and gazes over the small niche where he and Josh had had so many firsts, so many words and silences - he knows what he’s doing. He knows for sure that he’s right.

Reaching out carefully for the closest branch, Drake guides himself towards the trunk of the tree that stands directly outside his window. Gasping softly as his throws himself against the bark, Drake clenches his eyes shut and wills himself to not lose his balance.

He has never done this before. Too scared, too terrified he’d fall and break his neck. Even before Josh had broken his arm, Drake had always imagined the horror of potentially slipping and tumbling to death. And as he clutches desperately to the trunk of the tree, face scraping where his cheek scrapes the wood and his glasses nudged askew, all he can see behind his eyelids is the look of surprise on Josh’s face as he fell to the ground.

Drake pants softly and wrenches his eyes open. He looks down tentatively, noting that his feet are securely placed on a strong branch. Glancing one last time at the roof, he inhales sharply and begins his descent.

He jumps when he’s close enough to the grass, his backpack swooping behind him as it follows. Drake brushes himself off a little as he speed walks towards the house next to his. When he reaches the window, dark and hidden behind a blue curtain, Drake swallows his nervousness and lifts his right hand to tap at the glass.

The curtain rustles and Josh’s face appears, his hair a little mussed but his eyes awake and filled with confusion as he pushes his window open.

There aren’t any words. Josh sticks his hand over the threshold of the window and Drake immediately takes it and lets himself be hauled over the sill and into Josh’s room.

They stand in the dark room for what feels like hours, Josh starting at Drake and Drake staring back, hands still touching and fingers still clutching tight.

“I - ” Drake starts. “You were right. This whole time I’ve been so scared of too much. Everything. And I’ve let it hold me back and I’ve let myself be safe in my own little world. But - not anymore. I can’t let myself be afraid of things I can’t control, of things I can. I’m not gonna let things pass me by anymore. I’m not going to let change scare me. I’m not letting fear come between this.”

“This?” Josh whispers, smile creeping onto his face.

“This. You and me. Whatever it is. All that it is. You - ” Drake stops, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight of Josh grinning his trademark shit-eating smile.

“Have you been waiting for me? This whole time?”

“My whole life, in fact.”

“You know what I mean,” Drake mutters, his hand pulling away from Josh’s.

“Maybe,” Josh answers softly, reaching out to hover a hand along Drake’s hip, as if trying to decide if he should make the physical contact. “Just a little. Hopeful me, you know?”

Drake lets Josh’s words wash over him for a moment.

“So how long? Have you been waiting for me ever since the hospital? Have you been angry at all?”

“A little,” Josh shrugs. “But I understand you, Drake. Sometimes better than yourself. I told you what you needed to hear and then I waited. And I hoped you’d figure things out for yourself, at your own pace. And, well, now you’re here.”

Drake huffs a hesitant laugh, dropping his head and letting his bangs fall into his eyes.

“And here I thought I was surprising you.”

He feels the weight of Josh’s hand pressing against his hip and he knows that Josh’s mind has been made in one way or another. Looking up, Drake sees the glint in Josh’s eyes as he whispers, “You surprise me everyday, Drake Bell. You just don’t know it. It’s what I love best about you.”

Drake’s eyes widen a little before he responds.

“I love you, too. I think I always have.”

“Even when we first met and I tried to beat you up?” Josh smirks.

And Drake grins back as he murmurs, “Yeah. I think so,” letting himself gravitate closer, feeling Josh’s had rise up to cup his face as he’s pulled into a gentle kiss. Drake sighs and grants Josh’s tongue easy access, his arms tangling up around Josh’s neck as he settles his fingers into the dirty, curly tufts. Josh’s thumbs stroke lightly at Drake’s cheeks, lips pressing and tongues sliding slow and easy.

They stand like that for what feels like hours, caught up in the kiss and unwilling to break the connection. Drake gasps when Josh nibbles at the corner of his mouth, moving sideways and downward to trail soft pecks along the ridge of his jaw and towards his neckline.

“Fuck,” Josh murmurs in the middle of his languid kisses. “Your freckles. Wanna taste every one of them.” And he does, darting his tongue out to slide along Drake’s collarbone and up to the back of his ear. Drake shudders at the touches, his skin prickling with tingles of pleasure.

When Josh finally makes it back to Drake’s mouth, the kisses turn from lazy to eager. Drake lets his fingertips grip tightly around Josh’s scalp, pressing him nearer and harder. Josh moans and swallows Drake’s sighs as he sucks hard on Drake’s tongue.

“Josh,” Drake pants, pulling away for a moment. Josh follows Drake’s mouth, reaching in for another heated kiss, but Drake pauses him with a nose-to-nose grin. “Josh, c’mon. Bed.” He lets his hands wrap around Josh’s neck and tug, his wobbly knees trying to keep him standing as he takes a few steps back. Josh’s eyes don’t leave Drake’s as he nods in agreement.

When he feels the backs of his legs hit the mattress he lets Josh dive back in, giving into the dizzy feeling in his head as he collapses onto the messily made bed. Hands begin to travel over bodies, Drake’s hands reaching lower to tangle into Josh’s belt loops so he can pull Josh down with him. Straddling Drake’s waist, Josh tilts Drake’s chin up to further deepen the kiss.

Fingers trail along the border of skin that peeks out from above Josh’s waistline, tickling the scatterings of hair and the lean muscle. Drake moans as Josh places a firm hand against his chest, forcing him down onto his back as Josh sits up and tugs off his own shirt. Drake follows Josh’s lead, wriggling out of his own.

He sits back up and immediately leans in to bury his head into the crook of Josh’s neck, his hands spreading across Josh’s chest as he gently fingers nipples and skin. Josh moans softly and reaches down to desperately undo his fly. Drake’s fingers follow, batting Josh’s away as he takes over the action, fumbling only a little as the zipper catches.

Josh moves off of Drake to slip out of pants and he’s quickly working Drake out of his own. Clothes litter the floor as both boys find themselves fully nude, chests heaving with uncaught breath and bodies trembling with nerves and want. Josh moves himself over Drake again, slotting his legs against Drake’s as he lays himself down across the smaller boy’s body.

The touch of skin to skin, groins to hips, elicits a groan from both boys as they adjust to this newness of no barriers.

And as Josh begins to move his hips, grinding slow and hard against Drake’s body, Drake can feel the overwhelming emotions flooding his insides - all his fears and desires and thoughts taking his senses and dialing them up to the maximum. Every slide of skin against skin, every stolen kiss, every clumsy yet perfect thrust fills Drake with the all-encompassing feeling of absolute love and need.

Because this is Josh - this is Josh and Drake has loved him for nearly his whole life, and Josh is here with him, sharing with him this perfect first, this perfectly new and amazing moment. And all Drake can do is moan and whisper “harder” and “faster” and “fuck” and “please.”

As Drake gazes up at Josh, dazed and hazy eyed, Josh leans down to press a heavy kiss against Drake’s lips.

“Not dreaming, so stop staring at me like I’m gonna disappear.”

Drake smiles and reaches up to thread his fingers back into Josh’s hair.

“Better not be,” he mutters as he tugs Josh’s head down for another long, breathless chain of kisses. Their hips continue to roll with an unsteady rhythm, quiet moans and grunts escaping from between their lips as their bodies begin to sweat and thrum with pleasure. Josh breaks away for a moment, sitting up to grin wickedly down at a panting Drake before he plants quick, wet kisses down Drake’s chest and following the slight trail of hair leading him down. As Josh moves around and along Drake’s thighs, sucking and nipping at Drake’s skin and smiling whenever Drake jumps a little and gasps, Drake wanders his hands down to gently gather into Josh’s mussed hair.

When Josh takes Drake into his mouth, tongue and lips sliding over the head, Drake bites his bottom lip to keep himself from letting any embarrassing noises escape his mouth. When Josh begins to suck, though, tongue swirling and one hand wrapping around the rest of Drake’s cock to work him all over, Drake can’t help but groan loudly.

Josh’s mouth is gone swiftly and Drake sighs heavily in complaint. “Hey, man. Do you really want my mom coming in here because you’re moaning and crying like a girl up there?”

Drake’s eyes roll as he tries to come up with some sort of adequate response, but Josh doesn’t let him express his exasperation when he clambers back until his lips are over Drake’s again. They kiss for a while longer, letting themselves get lost in the frantic movements of teenage urgency, tongues overlapping and chests flushed as they rut against each other.

Breaking away, Drake hovers his mouth over Josh’s ear.

“Want you, Josh. Please. Want you so much.”

Josh nods numbly as he starts to move his head and mouth back down towards Drake’s erection. Drake stops him with both hands.

“No. Want you. To fuck me.” Josh’s eyes widen but Drake pulls him in for a kiss. “Please. I want. Need.”

Before Josh can muster a response, Drake is tumbling half out of the bed and reaching for his backpack. He unzips the front pocket and pulls out a tube of lube and a condom, crawling back up and holding them out for Josh to take. He stares at the items for a moment before laying his hand on top of Drake’s, gently pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re for sure?”

“Yes,” Drake sighs, turning their hands over so he can drop the two objects onto Josh’s palm. “I trust you.”

Josh stares at the condom and lube for a moment before nodding and leaning down for another kiss.

Drake doesn’t really know what to expect.

This is a lie. He has an idea of what to expect. The fact that his idea is based solely on internet porn and wikipedia is what makes him nervous. But the intense look of concentration on Josh’s face as he works Drake open, the soft and careful movements that Josh makes to stretch Drake, the worried whispers that Josh murmurs above - when Josh manages to make it to three fingers, Drake is pretty sure he’s never felt safer.

Drake watches as Josh slicks himself up, tremors of lust and want rushing up and down his body, and he’s never wanted anything more than this, than Josh.

He clenches his eyes shut at first, the pain sharp and uncomfortable. But Josh’s fingers pet the side of his face, and Drake opens his eyes to tell Josh that he’s good. He’s okay.

And once he wraps his legs around Josh's waist, and gives himself up to the push and pull of each thrust, once Josh begins a steady pace, his hands holding Drake’s hips with a grip that may leave bruises - Drake starts to really feel okay. More than okay, especially when Josh hits there and Drake cries out softly and yanks Josh’s head down for quick, dirty kisses.

Josh starts groaning, grasps Drake’s cock in one hand to stroke furiously in time with each thrust. And with eyes locked and bodies writhing together, Drake comes long and hard, the tremors of pleasure causing him to throw his head back and moan loudly.

Above, Josh keeps thrusting, face flushed and one hand clenching at the sheets beneath Drake’s shoulder. When he falls apart, he groans Drake’s name and falls back down, chest heaving and eyes screwed shut. They lay like that for a moment, Drake slipping lazy kisses down Josh’s face as he wraps his arms around Josh’s shoulders.

“I love you,” Drake whispers into Josh’s ear.

Josh lifts his head to press a soft kiss to Drake’s forehead.

“Love you more.”




They wake up a few hours later, Josh’s arm tucked around Drake’s chest and his head nestled close to the back of Drake’s neck. Drake lays in the dark of the room for a moment, eyes tracing imaginary patterns along the skin of Josh’s arm as he enjoys the warmth and security radiating from Josh’s naked body.

When Josh’s arm twitches and he rolls over a little, Drake turns his head to find two sleep-blurry blue eyes peering back at him.

“Hey,” he smiles, wiggling his head closer so his nose is lightly nudging Josh’s.

“Hey back.” Josh grins back, covering Drake’s lips with his own for a slow kiss. He pulls away after a second and stretches his arms.

“Need a smoke. Wanna come?”

Drake doesn’t even respond, just kicks the covers off of his legs and sits up.

They throw on some pants and crawl back out of Josh’s window, Josh leading Drake by hand towards the tree. They climb up the branches quickly, Drake realizing that his longtime fears haven’t really been that big of a deal, knowing that he’ll be doing this a lot from this day forward.

Skipping the window, Josh settles himself down by the ledge of the roof, legs dangling over the edge and hands grappling with a box of cigarettes and his lighter. Drake takes a seat next to Josh, watching as he flicks on the lighter and holds it to the end of his cigarette.

“Look, here comes the sun.”

Drake turns away from watching Josh, his eyes floating over towards the horizon. Sure enough, the twilight darkness has begun to fade, the span of sky turning into different hues of blue, purple and pink. As Drake watches the light start to peak over the tops of the neighboring houses, he feels Josh’s arm reach to wrap around his shoulder. He lets himself be scooted closer to the smoking boy, tilting his head to the side so he can rest against Josh’s bare shoulder.

They don’t say anything, don’t do much other than stare out into the sky and every so often exchange glances, stealing quick kisses.

It’s almost as if nothing has changed. Except, at the same time, nearly everything has changed. But the kind of change that settles comfortably, sinking into their skin and down to their bones as naturally as the warmth of the rising sun.




a few weeks later…

Drake’s precariously perched on the stool, nervous enough that his shaking legs are causing his seat to wiggle around a little. He looks out at the crowd before him, gulping at the mass of people he’d somehow managed to attract.

He sees Amanda waving from the closest couch, her eyes sparking with excitement as she turns to Miranda to giggle about something. Next to Miranda is that Nathan kid - not only Amanda’s mentee but Miranda’s friend and newest member of the GSA as well - his face contorted into a look of combined humor and horror. Which is understandable, Drake supposes, since to his right sits Devon, decked out in dark purple pants tighter than anything Drake’s ever dared to wear, arms flying in the air as he tells Nathan some sort of outrageous story.

Standing in the back is his mother, arms crossed and face smiling with pride. Drake waves nervously to her.

But the face that makes Drake beam back out into the crowd is the one that sits on the other side of Amanda. The small grin of a man who hasn’t shaved in almost a week - because Drake insists that he really does like the sharp feel of his scruff against Drake’s skin, Drake’s own bristly face - and whose right hand fiddles with a red lighter as he watches Drake with careful eyes.

And Drake thinks about how much he knows about that man, how much he’s always known about him for so many years now. Thinks about all that he’s learned, all the new and exciting and even annoying things he’d discovered in just the past few months, weeks.

He snaps himself out of his thoughts, though. It’s almost six. He plans on starting on time after all.

“Hey, guys,” he mutters into the mic, testing its volume with a few taps and a clearing of his throat. “I just want to thank you all for coming out. As many of you know, this is the first official GSA sponsored open mic show here at The Bean Hut coffee house. If you would like to purchase any buttons, our Vice President Amanda has them down front.”

Amanda raises her hand and waves it in the air enthusiastically for a moment before Drake laughs and continues.

“And as President of the GSA, I’ve volunteered to go first. And, um, in case you guys can’t tell, I’m going to play some songs for you all.” Drake points down at the guitar sitting in his lap, smiling sheepishly at the crowd. As he pulls his pick out from under the strings, he hears a few whoops and a small number of people clapping.

“In fact, I’m going to play some songs written by my friend, Miranda.” He throws her a knowing smile and she immediately blushes. The crowd claps again.

He’s about ready to run off the small stage and into the bathroom so he can vomit in the sink. But instead he takes a deep breath and plays a few chords.

“But first, something of my own. This song’s about someone.”

Searching out Josh’s eyes again, Drake takes a deep breath and starts to play.




“You were great,” Josh murmurs, pressing kiss after kiss into Drake’s hair. Laughing, Drake pushes Josh far enough away so he can catch his lips for a proper kiss.

“You think so? I think that maybe I screwed up at the end, with the chord change and then my voice cracked and - ”

Josh silences Drake with a finger to the lips. “You. Were amazing. End of story.”

They smile at each other, noses rubbing into each other gently as they stay like that for a moment.

“Hey, lovebirds, wanna do that on your own time, or do you want us to leave?” Drake doesn’t feel bad for flipping Amanda off, but he turns away from Josh just the same.

She’s lying on the roof, sunglasses on and hair splayed out beneath her head. Miranda sits next to her with a book in her lap.

“S’not like you’re doing anything other than trying to tan your pasty skin there, Bynes,” Josh sniggers, fingers digging into his pocket for his obligatory roof top cigarette.

“Whatever,” she scoffs back. “My skin is not pasty. And I was totally eavesdropping on your little tête-à-tête until you two started making gooey eyes at each other. And as entertaining as that was the first thousand times, I’m pretty sure by this point it’ll only make me sick.”

“What do you want from us, huh? For me to start sucking Drake’s cock right here in broad daylight?” Drake blushes and delivers a semi-rough punch to Josh’s shoulder.

“Pervert. You’re scaring her.”

“I’m sure she loves it,” Josh chuckles, waggling his eyebrows at Amanda, who only scowls and tries to ignore their comments. “She’s the pervert.”

Drake rolls his eyes and sends an apologetic look in Amanda’s direction. She shrugs her shoulders and turns her head back towards the sky (probably because she knows Josh is at least partially right). Miranda doesn’t look away from her book, but Drake can see the amused grin on her face.

Josh wraps an arm around Drake’s waist and Drake turns his attention back to him. He can’t help but smile at Josh, settling his forehead against Josh’s chest as Josh lets his fingers trail up and down Drake’s freckled arms.

It’s fitting that their after-party celebration would end up on the roof - it was time for Drake to share this place with all his friends.

Which reminds him.

“Hey,” he wonders aloud. “Where’d Devon and Nathan go?”

Josh’s brow scrunches up for a moment before he grins giddily at Drake. “I think I know.”

He starts to crawl towards Drake’s window and Drake follows on hands and knees. They peer over the ledge of the sill, eyes searching for a sign of the two younger boys. What they find is Devon and Nathan, sitting inside the room, beneath the window, lips locked and hands roving over bodies.

Shocked, Drake tumbles backwards and onto his ass. Josh, on the other hand, can only laugh loudly and stick his hand through the window to smack Devon’s head. Drake hears the exclamation of pain and watches as two heads peek up from the other side of the open window. Although Devon’s grin is from ear to ear, Drake can see Nathan’s evident embarrassment at being caught.

“Oh, how lovely,” Josh sniggers as he reaches over to pull Drake back up. “Another pair of queers.”

Nathan’s blush only deepens, but Devon cackles with laughter.

“Well, somebody’s gotta fill your slots for when you two graduate,” Devon smirks. And Drake has to giggle at least a little, because it’s something close to the truth. Devon and he had already started discussing next year’s plans, for when Devon would take over the position of President.

The two younger boys amble out onto the roof to join the rest of them. Drake and Josh exchange small smiles at the sight of a full roof.

There’s a first for everything, Drake supposes.

“Hey,” Miranda says, finally closing her book. “There goes the sun.”

Sure enough, there’s the sight of the sun fading slowly into the edge of the sky. As he watches, Drake feels Josh wrap an arm around his waist and he leans into the touch.

And as Drake lets his eyes close, he smiles and knows that he’s where he wants to be with the people he wants to be with, living as the person he knows he is.




| the end |

| art master post |
| character introductions |
| soundtrack and song notes |
| notes and acknowledgment |