fic: not like this
Title: Not Like This (Five Situations Where Drake and Josh Were Never Reunited, and One They Were)
Author: stttmsbwa
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Hmmm, nope. I wish, though.
Summary: No matter where or when, there is always a Drake and a Josh to be reunited. AU
A/N: This is the (extremely late) Christmas/Birthday fic that I planned out to write for folkloric_feel that I took forever to finally finish. It follows her Christmas prompt of "reunion" and her love for the original fic of these 'verses, Not This Way. In all honesty, this was a long time coming. I really enjoyed my first trip with these 'verses, but the second time was like a reunion of my own (look at me, getting all metaphorical and sappy). Well, anyhow. I hope this meets all the expectations of the people who wanted to see more of these AU situations!
Josh was pretty sure he was regretting everything in his life, especially his decision to participate in the Big Brother program, even more so because he allowed himself to be paired with a certain English-failing teen, so much more because said teen was a completely-underage-jail-bait-sexy-little-tease, and even so much more that said jail bait had some how conned - conned - Josh into this entire situation.
A situation that had Josh wishing that he had never ever thought it would be a good idea to
The call came around two in the afternoon on a Tuesday. Josh wasn’t able to pick it up - he was stuck in the middle of his Biology and Society quiz. Josh wasn’t able to call back after class - he had to run back to his apartment and change into his waiting uniform and rush over to pull a 4 to 10 dinner shift (during which he had no time to even text back a “sorry, I’ve been busy” text).
Not that it didn’t bother Josh. It bothered Josh greatly. And not that this was different from other things that bothered Josh - he typically hated neglecting phone calls and obligations and the like.
But this particular missed call bothered him twenty times more than any other missed call usually would. Because this missed call had nearly sent him into a panic attack in between question 2 and 3 of his quiz.
Calling…Drake Parker
Drake Parker. Drake Parker, the first and last kid Josh had ever been paired up with through the “Big Brother” program. Drake Parker, the reason who Josh had quit the “Big Brother” program. Drake Parker, the high school kid that had finagled Josh into taking him to a college party.
Josh sighed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, sliding the phone up to stare at his missed calls.
Drake Parker
Setting the phone down, Josh unbuttoned his shirt and contemplated his options. In the dark of his apartment, Josh allowed himself to relive that night, if only to remind him of all the reasons why calling Drake back was bad (which, horrifically enough, were also some of the reasons why it was good).
The party had been mild enough. Just some friends of Josh’s that he had made through his roommate freshman year. They weren’t an exceptionally rowdy bunch. A smallish house that was a half a block away from the frats.
The stack of red silo cups that sat by the front door caused Josh’s fingers to twitch a little, especially when Drake had immediately reached for his own. Grumbling to himself, Josh shelled out a ten from his wallet for the formidable guy standing guard at the door and grabbed his own cup, fighting against the somewhat filled entrance to keep up with Drake.
Running his hand through his hair, Josh chuckled to himself as he remembered how easily he’d lost Drake that night. After pushing through globs and huddles and clusters of girls and guys and couples, all talking and all drinking and all touching and kissing and groping and -
And that’s how Josh had found Drake. On a crowded couch with a girl in a mini dress straddling his lap. Tongues sliding and fingers wandering. And Josh couldn’t decide if that tightening, breathless pain in his chest was the result of his “Big Brother” protectiveness kicking in, or his all-consuming mindless jealousy roaring in his head.
Looking back at the moment, Josh realizes that what he should have done was pull the girl of the minor, grip Drake’s arm and yank him out of that house.
Instead, Josh had made a bee line for the supply of Jungle Juice.
Grimacing at the memory, Josh told himself for the hundredth time that he would never ever again go anywhere near Jungle Juice, ever again. Because, after four cup fulls?
Josh Nichols was not a wise drunk. Not that any drunk could ever be truly wise. But Josh Nichols in particular was an unintelligent and reckless drunk.
Which would explain why Josh found himself wobbling towards the scene of debauchery, sight slightly blurred but mind absolutely sure that what he was doing was absolutely correct and right and just because Josh grabbed Drake’s shoulder and felt a spark was nothing, nothing at all and all that mattered was that Josh get Drake away from the skanky ho-bag who did not deserve to lay her lips on the poor underage boy with a million freckles scattered all over his face and his neck and his arms and probably other places that Josh felt the sudden urge to uncover and discover and plot and record into his memory forever.
And somewhere in between “skanky ho-bag” and “the sudden urge,” Josh had managed to drag Drake into the entrance of the house, muttering incoherent slurs and ignoring the halfhearted protests of a slightly buzzed Drake.
“Josh! What’s the deal man? I mean, are - are you okay?”
No, Josh was not okay. Josh was slowly backing Drake up against a wall and this was bad because Drake was young and Josh was older and Drake was drunk and Josh was drunk and such pretty eyes and such a sweet looking mouth and such soft looking lips and Josh just wanted and wanted and wanted to tell Drake everything he felt and desired and -
“Your paper on Macbeth s’real good.”
Drake had blinked a few times before curling his mouth up into a sly smile. Josh realized that that smile was only a few inches away from his chin. So close.
“Really? You think so?”
Josh nodded emphatically.
“Mean it, Drake. S’reaaal good. Best work you’ve shown me all semester.”
Drake bit his lip, feigning modesty. Josh gulped.
And then Josh felt the tug from behind his head, startled by the sudden appearance of Drake’s hands clutching his face closer, and then he was kissing Drake and Drake was kissing back and Josh had the younger boy pressed against the wall of the hallway and Drake was moaning into Josh mouth and Josh was breathing heavily and God this was fantastic and Josh couldn’t believe that he was finally doing this, finally kissing Drake, his seventeen year old student.
Josh pushed away from Drake’s hold and gasped. Even in his inebriated state, Josh knew that the look on Drake’s face was filled with confusion and hurt and - it scared Josh, made him shudder when he saw that look - lust.
“Gotta get you home. S’late.”
Fiddling with his phone, Josh shook his head at the memory of that night.
The very next day had him resigning from the program, throwing out excuses like “classes getting too intense” and “just not working out for me.”
And now it had been a year. And Josh was a senior. And Drake was a senior.
And Josh couldn’t call Drake back. Just couldn’t. This isn’t how things were supposed to happen. Things were supposed to remain awkward and uncomfortable and Drake was supposed to move on and have a successful life with plenty of happiness and grow unease towards the sad, sorry never-left-home Josh Nichols, that college kid who tried to molest him once at a college party.
Which, when Josh thinks about it, is most likely just a tad of an overreaction, because Josh knew he would leave home some day (God, how he hoped and hoped and prayed) and Drake is the one who made the first move and it was Drake who in fact practically forced Josh to take him to the damn party in the first place.
This was enough encouragement for Josh to resolutely flip open his phone and hit the call back button.
He could do this. He could do this. He could do this.
Ring
Fuck, no he couldn’t. Josh hastily canceled the call, only to curse under his breath immediately afterwards.
How stupid was he, really?
It took twenty seconds for his phone to ring, and Josh’s heart raced to its maximum speed when he saw the name that flashed across the screen.
Drake Parker
Breathing in and out once, Josh flipped open his phone.
“Hello?”
”Do you always call people and then hang up before they can answer?”
The voice was different and the same all at once. It was crisp and playful and young and yet more deep and mature and completely Drake.
“Drake.”
“Yes, Josh. It’s me.”
Drake. Drake. Drake Drake Drake.
“You called me.”
”Yes. I did.”
“Why?”
The short pause felt like a painful age and a half.
”A lot of reasons, really. Mostly because I just wanted to know how you are. I mean, you kind of just disappeared. Out of nowhere. And in the most inconvenient of times, too.”
Josh’s mouth went dry and he let Drake continue.
”Also because I just wanted to let you know that I finished last year with a B in Mrs. Heifer’s class. And it’s, well, it’s because of you. And I just wanted to, you know, thank you.”
Heart soaring with pride, Josh tried to drudge up words of praise, but Drake continued.
”And, honestly, because I can’t get the memory of your tongue in my mouth out of my head and I really want to see you again.”
Josh gulped heavily.
“Drake, I - “
”And I also turned eighteen two months ago. You know, if it helps.”
It did, and fuck it all because it did.
”Josh, please. Just. See me again. Anywhere. Just soon.”
Thinking for a total of 29 seconds, Josh nodded even though he knew Drake couldn’t see him. It was more for himself anyhow.
“Yeah, sure. I’d love that.”
And just like that, Josh had a date with the face that had been haunting his dreams for the past year.
--
Things were going quite swimmingly. Or at least Drake was telling himself so. It made the situation feel less awkward and complicated.
Because, really, ever since that one time when Drake made that awful mistake of running away from home for a few years, coming back to his original home gave him the chills. As though he was a demon crossing over onto holy grounds and at any moment he would be smited for his crimes.
But this time it was okay. This time Drake was accompanied by his very own guardian angel.
An extremely gorgeous guardian angel with sparkling hazel eyes and a luscious full mouth and big strong hands that could make Drake lose all sense of control.
With his mind leading him to such devious thoughts, Drake stuttered his steps and mentally cursed himself for allowing his mother to talk him out of booking a room in a nearby hotel. Because how in the world was he supposed to get it on when his mother and sister were sleeping down the hallway?
Come to think of it, though, it wasn’t as if he had had any problems before. Plenty of faceless and nameless girls and guys had been snuck through Drake’s window for a midnight romp in between the sheets.
But then again, Drake didn’t want to think about his sketchy past and of all his indiscretions. And besides, Josh wasn’t just some drunken hook up that Drake would roll out of his bed when he was finished and or sober.
And perhaps all of Drake’s rambling thoughts were simply the result of the anxiety he was feeling in regards to the fact that he was taking said Josh home, home, to meet his family. His mother and his sister.
Who, in fact, had never ever been formally introduced to any of Drake’s anythings (because an awkward walk of shame in the morning after does not count, not in the least).
And Drake’s therapist had told him that in times of anxiety the mind often tends to start digging up all sorts of nerve-wracking thoughts that do nothing but increase the nervousness and Drake has to pause and bend over slightly because he starts to feel nauseous and really really really starts craving a drink.
Which, he tells himself, is just his body’s natural reaction to reach towards an object that he associates with comfort. Which, in his case, is an unnatural reaction. Which is why Drake needs to find other things to associate with comfort.
Which should not be Josh. Because it is not healthy to concentrate all aspects of comfort and security upon another human being, especially one that is of romantic interest. Or so says Drake’s therapist.
The gentle yet firm touch of Josh’s fingers rubbing circles on Drake’s lower back is enough to push these thoughts down.
To hell with his therapist, anyway.
“You alright?”
Drake smiled reassuringly, hoping that his face wasn’t pasty like his heart was feeling.
“Either way, it’s not like you’re not an EMT or whatever.”
Josh raised an eyebrow, his hand rising up to gently rub the back of Drake’s neck.
“I know, I know. It’s just that - “ Drake sighed and leaned into the touch. “I hate going home.”
Biting his lip, Josh doesn’t say anything. Drake silently thanks Josh’s refrain by standing straight and pecking a chaste kiss to the taller man’s cheek.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. And they’re gonna love you. Probably more than me.”
-
Drake hadn’t been far off. His mother and sister did indeed take to Josh much in the way that everyone on the planet did.
“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest?”
Megan snorted as she watched their mother fawning over Josh’s dish washing skills. She turned to Drake and grinned maliciously.
“So where did you find this one, boob? Put an ad in the paper that said, ‘Perfect Gentleman Needed To Impress My Disappointed Family?’”
Drake scowled and kicked her right leg’s shin.
Not too hard.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve known Josh for a year now.”
Megan turned her gaze back to Josh and gave him a look over.
“Before or after?”
Wincing softly, Drake inhaled heavily before answering.
“Before.”
Megan’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Wow. And you guys have been dating the whole time?”
Drake shook his head. “No. Well, sort of. We didn’t get serious until after I got out. But he was with me through the whole time, always being my link to the outside world. He helped me get through it all.”
Nodding her head, Megan turned to watch Josh as he innocently flirted with their mother. “Well I’ll be damned. I think you’ve found yourself your perfect man.”
Drake smiled, sighing heavily. “Yeah. I know. I just hope he doesn’t realize that he could do better.”
Megan scowled and smacked her brother’s arm, ignoring his indignant yelp of pain.
“Don’t be such a boob. He’d be a moron to give you up.” She hesitated before continuing. “Well, you know. The sober, no-longer-in-rehab you. This you. The real Drake. This is the real you, right?”
Drake gulped and nodded, still softly rubbing at the sore spot on his arm. Megan bit her lip and reached her hand out to rest on Drake’s shoulder.
“You really know how to worry us. Mom and me. I’m not saying that I’ll ever forget what you’ve put us through after all these years, but I can at least tell you that I’ll forgive you.”
Grinning sheepishly, Drake leaned into Megan’s touch. “If what? You’ll forgive me if what?”
Megan uses her hand to playfully shove Drake away.
“Only if you bring this oaf around more often. I think Mom is smitten, and God knows I like him more than I’ll ever like you, you dumb ass.”
She walked out of the kitchen, dragging their giggling mother along with her, throwing a lecherous wink in Drake’s direction before the door closed. Drake rolled his eyes and walked over to Josh. Pulling the towel out of Josh’s almost-pruning hands, Drake planted his hands around Josh’s waist and dragged him flush to his own body.
“Hey.”
“Hey, there. Am I doing good? Do the girls like me?”
Drake laughed. “I think like is an understatement. Megan says that Mom probably wants to run away with you and that she likes you more than me. I’d say you have a major in.”
Josh’s eyes lit up and he smiled at Drake, resting his hands on Drake’s hips.
“Awesome. Thanks for bringing me here. It’s been amazing, meeting your family. Seeing your baby pictures. Great times.”
Drake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever you perv.”
They both laughed and Drake reached up to hold Josh’s face between his hands.
“Really, though, Josh. Thank you. For coming here. Doing this. It means a lot to my family. To me. Thank you so much.”
Josh shrugged. “No problem at all.”
They stood there for a minute, staring into each others eyes. Drake tried to say it, to tell Josh exactly everything he felt and he thought - how thankful he was for Josh, thankful that Josh had been there for him through it all. He tried but he couldn’t quite come up with the perfect words.
Someday. Someday, though, Drake would have them.
For now, though.
“Hug me.”
Josh smirked and bent down to press his lips against Drake’s. The kiss was heavy and deep, both men feeling the weight of their emotions.
And Drake knew that what he had - whether it would last or not - was good. Great.
Better than anything he could have asked for.
--
There was something about going back that really made Drake want to smack a bitch.
Or, well, really just find the closest trash can and hurl.
Because, high school and Drake Nichols? Did not get along so much. Not so much at all.
Drake Nichols who was reclusive and would bury himself in his studies and music and who tried to avoid nearly all social contact with anyone.
And who in Senior year had a strangely bizarre super-secret affair with his newly acquired stepbrother.
So it made perfect sense that Drake would feel slightly nauseated and irritated by the fact that he was walking into the dingy gym of his old high school in an itchy suit jacket that was once his father’s. He approached the front table and frowned down at the chipper girl sitting on the stool and handing out name tags.
“Well, hello there! Name please?”
Drake cleared his throat before responding. “Drake. Nichols.”
The girl’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of Drake, head to foot. “Oh my. It is. Drake Nichols! You look so, so, grown up!” Her hands shook as she handed the name tag to Drake. He forced a smile as he received the sticker, peeling the plastic off to stick it on his jacket.
She blinked up at him, eyes batting and teeth shining brightly.
“Don’t - don’t you remember me?”
Drake looked - honestly looked and tried to place her face to a name.
“Sandy.”
The girl burst into giggles and held a hand over her mouth. “You do remember! Well, I - I mean, this - it’s so great to see you again and I - “
Drake didn’t even wait for her to finish, walking away while waving and trying to keep his grin from falling.
“You totally read her nametag, didn’t you?”
Startled by the voice, Drake spun around to see a face he most certainly could remember the name of.
“Mindy Crenshaw.”
“Drake Nichols.”
They paused for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Drake opened his arms and Mindy walked right into the hug, squeaking a little as Drake spun her around in a little circle.
“You’re such an asshole, leaving town and becoming all big and famous out in L.A. Not coming home for ten years, not even to say hello to an old friend. How will I ever forgive you?”
Drake rolled his eyes and dropped Mindy to the ground. “You big hypocrite. Who flew off to the East Coast to become some bigwig scientist’s personal assistant as an undergrad? I do believe I was home, just never when you were. Which I could easily say was done on purpose.”
Mindy scoffed and swatted Drake in the arm. “Whatever. You’re just jealous that I went to college and you didn’t. Whereas I’m jealous that you’re now famous in all sorts of ways and the only place I’m known in is the world of science.”
“But I thought you always said that the only world was the world of science?”
“Damn straight it is!”
They couldn’t help but burst into another round of giggles. Mindy sighed heavily and motioned towards the punch table. “Gotta go refresh myself. I’ll be back. Don’t you dare try to slink away, Nichols!”
Drake rolled his eyes and watched Mindy walk away. Some things never changed.
Like the scenes that played out before him. A gym filled with people, chunks of cliques that were all engaged in their own conversations and worlds. So many people that Drake had seen every day of his life for four years, but had no recollection of ever knowing any of them.
High school. What a fucking joke.
It’s not as if Drake didn’t want to get to know people. He was just incredibly picky when it came to the people he let himself get close to.
”You really don’t like it, do you?”
Drake sat on the couch, sprawled out with his guitar resting on his chest as he strummed lazily along with the tune in his head. Words would come, soon enough words would come.
He shrugged in response and Josh snorted. “Whatever dude, I know you hate everything about high school. You don’t have to play off like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Drake ignored Josh and continued with his strumming.
“You could at least try to make this whole situation a little better. You know, by actually engaging in a civilized conversation with me. One that doesn’t start with a fight. It would make our time together less, you know, awkward and painful.”
Drake gazed in Josh’s direction, eyes level and revealing no emotion. “I’m pretty sure that conversations that don’t start in a fight will just end in a fight, regardless of what we talk about. And I don’t think our mutual silence is awkward or painful. I actually find it quite peaceful, thank you very much.”
He turned his focus back on his guitar, and didn’t watch as Josh slowly walked closer and closer towards the couch.
“Whatever, man. You can pretend all day and twice on Sunday that this isn’t gonna happen, that it doesn’t happen at all. But I’m calling your bullshit.”
The couch cushion sunk as Josh crawled on, using his right hand to grab the guitar and yank it out of Drake’s grip. Starting to protest, Drake stopped when Josh gently placed the guitar on the floor and straddled Drake’s waist.
“Because I’m sick of pretending that this - this what we’re doing - is just because we’re two horny teenage guys stuck in a room together every night.”
Drake groaned as Josh ran a hand over Drake’s hip, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt.
“Because I want to actually get to know the guy that I’ve been blowing for the past few months.”
His breath hitched as Josh moved his fingers to trace the waist line of Drake’s jeans.
“Because I think that the guy who manhandles my dick every night should at least know something about me, other than how to make me come faster than an overeager thirteen-year-old virgin.”
Drake clenched his eyes shut when Josh’s hand gripped Drake’s growing erection through the denim, squeezing lightly. Josh smiled as he leaned his face lower and closer to Drake’s.
“Because I like you, Nichols. More than I’d like to admit.”
The words hit Drake like an electric shock, causing him to launch his face upward to catch Josh’s lips with his own. Josh instantaneously reciprocated, pressing back with a bruising intensity that had Drake moaning and thrusting into Josh’s still-squeezing hand.
Josh broke away from the kiss only to breathily taunt Drake - “Admit it, Nichols. You want to know me, too” - before fumbling with the button and fly on Drake’s jeans.
Drake didn’t respond with anything but a strangled cry, which could have been interpreted as a cry of pleasure in response to having one’s aroused dick touched.
But Drake really knew - and even Josh really knew - that the cry was Drake’s own response of, “Yeah, I do. I really fucking do want to know you, too.”
And even as Josh worked him closer and closer to the edge, those words in his head bounced around and around until Drake realized that it worked really well with the rhythm he had been playing with earlier.
“After all these years and I was right, then, huh? You really don’t like it.”
Drake flinched and twisted his head around to catch the face of the voice he could not not recognize.
“Josh.”
“Drake.”
Josh grinned and stuck out a hand. Drake took it without hesitation and they shook heavy and long. Letting go first, Josh slung an arm around Drake’s shoulders and pulled him in close for a slightly awkward side hug.
“You had that pained look on your face, the one that says, ‘I hate the world and everyone in it.’”
Nodding knowingly, Drake sighed and pointed into the crowd.
“Tell me one thing you remember about these people that isn’t bad or scandalous or stupid.”
Josh trailed his eyes along the clumps of people, scanning and figuring. “Well, I remember that Joanne made really good oatmeal cookies. And that Jason wasn’t such a douche once you got him away from his teammates and womenfolk.”
Shaking his head with disdain, Drake pulled out from under Josh’s hold. “Fine. You knew these people. I didn’t. They didn’t care about me, I didn’t care about them. I shouldn’t have to be here when I have absolutely no connection with any of them.”
“I never said that I actually cared about any of these people,” Josh replied, shrugging as he continued to stare out into the mass of twentysomethings. “I’m just saying that I remember them.”
He turned to face Drake, eyes glittering with mischief. “I can tell you who I did care about, though. The only person I can remember ever actually wanting to know. Head to foot, mind and soul. I could tell you what I remember of that person. Would you like to hear?”
Drake blushed and took a step back. “No thanks. I’d prefer not to hear your dirty stories about how you used to seduce me behind our parents’ backs.”
Josh coughed out a laugh. “You’re serious? Oh, Nichols. You’ll never change, will you?”
Ears burning for no reason other than that look that was forming on Josh’s face, Drake ignored the question and started to search out Mindy. He needed to save his sanity. Josh only stepped closer, though, mouth hovering inches away from Drake’s ear.
“I’ll bet you I can get you just as hot and bothered as I did back when we were seventeen. I’ll bet that I can get you to sneak into one of these janitor closets so I can yank down your pants and suck your pretty little dick. I’ll bet that I can make you scream and come just as loud and hard as I did that one time I bailed you out of that pop quiz in Mrs. Hayfer’s class.”
Drake groaned but only leaned back closer to Josh. “I would have passed that quiz no problem. S’your fault I missed it. Jerk.”
Josh only laughed and grabbed Drake’s pants by the belt loops, preparing to spin the man around and steal a quick and heated kiss.
“Can’t you two keep it in your pants for one night?” Mindy’s sudden reappearance startled the men, causing them to jump apart and turn into a pair of blushing and stuttering morons.
“I swear, I come all this way in the hopes of spending time with my favorite person in the world and you’re off reliving your days of teenage debauchery. You sluts. Save it for when you’re in your apartment and I’m not around, please.”
Mindy walked over to Drake’s side and looped her arm around his own. “Now excuse me Mr. Parker, but I do believe I must steal Mr. Nichols away for special talk time. Don’t wait up!”
As Mindy dragged Drake towards an empty table, Drake shot Josh a look of helplessness.
‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed, holding his free hand up in defeat.
Josh only grinned and waved, mouthing back, ‘I’ll get you later.’
Later, indeed.
--
It was like almost every other college house; filled with books haphazardly piled and thrown about, musky scent that screamed “young males live here!,” messy and littered with empty cans and bottles.
Drake waded across the trash-covered floor to reach the fridge, in search of something to drink that was nonalcoholic. He found an unopened bottle of Gatorade and grabbed it. Chugging it in two minutes, Drake tossed the empty plastic into the sink and made his way back towards the staircase. He took the stairs two at a time, anxious to get back to that room. Anxious to get back to that bed.
Anxious to get back to the seriously gorgeous naked man underneath those sheets.
Josh Nichols. Who’da thunk, after all these years, Drake would find himself in the company of Josh Nichols?
The door creaked as he pushed it open and said gorgeous naked man looked up from the book he was reading and smiled.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
Josh put down the paperback and motioned his hand over the empty spot next to him. Drake grinned and settled himself onto the bed, hands grabbing for the book in Josh’s hands.
“Kerouac. You really are some kind of hipster wannabe, aren’t you?”
Josh snorted and yanked the book out of Drake’s reach. “Whatever. You don’t even know what you’re talking about. Kerouac is a genius among insignificant nobodies. You wish all your songs together could inspire the kind of greatness that Kerouac managed in one line.”
Rolling his eyes, Drake leaned his head back against the pillow and sighed. “Sure, sure. You think what you want to think. I’ll keep an open mind.”
“Like you did back in high school?”
Drake frowned and tried to place Josh’s words in context, eyes bulging as he made the connection.
“You’re not still holding a grudge against me over the whole Miss Nancy thing, are you? Because I thought you told me last night that you weren’t upset over all that. I mean, I was a stupid kid. I didn’t know what to think, a kid my age waltzing around in a fat lady’s dress. I mean, dude! You had fake breasts and everything! In fact, I think I might be able to blame you for me slowly losing my attraction for the opposite sex. It’s quite possible that you’re the reason I’m off girls for life. Or, well, for when there isn’t an available male at least. If anything, I should have a grudge against you. Why are you laughing?”
Holding the book over his face while the rest of his body shook with stifled laughter, Josh shook his head and held the paperback firmly over his eyes. Drake scowled and yanked at the book. “Hey. Hey! I’m talking to you, Nichols. I’m spilling out my guts here and you’re freaking laughing at me. Is this what you do to all guys you pick up at parties, get drunk and have hot sex with? Is this your natural morning after ritual? Cause it sucks. I hope you don’t intend on ever having me underneath you ever again, cause I’m not putting up with your bullshit ever again.”
Drake gave up trying to grab a hold of the book, choosing to instead hop off the bed and bend down to pick up his shirt. Josh was out of the bed in an instant, coming up from behind with hands grappling for Drake’s waist to pull him close.
“And where do you think you’re going.”
“Leaving your dumb ass,” Drake huffed, trying not to let Josh know that whispering sultry-like in his ear was a surefire way to get him to drop everything and jump back into bed.
“No you’re not. You’re bluffing.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you wouldn’t be letting me do this.”
This? Oh, this. Drake didn’t even have time to gasp as Josh’s fingers trailed lower to peel the elastic band of Drake’s boxers down his hips.
“Okay, I was bluffing. Back in bed.”
-
Three hours later and Drake is back to creeping down the stairs. This time led by the hunger in his stomach. The floors are still kind of messy, but less so. As if someone was up and cleaning.
Sure enough, Drake walks into the kitchen and finds a girl tossing a handful of cans into a trashcan marked as “recycling.” Drake pretended to ignore her as he walked up to the fridge and opened it, recalling that he had seen some peanut butter and bread shoved behind a pack of PBR, fully intending on fixing himself a sandwich. Or two. Or three.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Drake Parker. I heard you were going to be around the place, just didn’t think you’d actually stay the night.”
Swinging the door shut slowly, Drake turned around to face the girl. Her arms were crossed and her face held a look that didn’t spell anything but potential bitch fit.
“And who the hell are you?”
She huffed and wrinkled her nose. “Mindy Crenshaw. Not that you’d remember me. You tended to ignore the lesser people.”
It took a second for Drake to register the name, but when he did he was instantly hit with memories of a hoity-toity stuck up know-it-all bitch that was too smart for her own good.
“I remember you alright. You got me in huge trouble with Mrs. Hayfer that one time her car ended up in her classroom. I don’t know how you did it, but you totally framed me. There’s no way I could have figured out how to get a fucking car inside a classroom.”
Mindy smiled and Drake swore her face got even uglier. He quickly added, “You whore.”
She bent her head back and laughed. “Oh Drake, I do believe it was you who was the whore in high school, not me.”
Drake narrowed his eyes and turned back to the fridge. “Whatever. I’m not here to play around in memories about high school. Let’s save that for the ten year reunion, okay?”
Mindy moved closer, holding out an arm to grab the door and pause Drake’s movements in the fridge.
“Oh really? Then why are you here? Why are you in our kitchen? Why were you in Josh’s bed? Why are you doing this, now? After all these years?”
Her eyes were ablaze with rage and Drake stepped away from the fridge, holding his hands up in defense.
“Whoa, there. I mean, I’m just here because - well, I don’t exactly know why I’m here, but it’s not like I’ve got any bad intentions or anything. You need to seriously chill out there.”
Mindy frowned and closed the door, resting her hands on her hips and gazing at Drake in disbelief.
“I don’t believe it. You don’t even know, do you?”
Drake shook his head slowly. “Don’t even know what?”
“That - good God, Parker - that Josh was completely and utterly head over heels for you in high school. Like, absolutely in love with you. For four years. Ever since that one time your mom went out with his dad and you walked in on him in that stupid Miss Nancy dress. Gone. Smitten. Wrote your name on his notebooks and drew little hearts around it. The whole she-bang!”
Gaping in surprise, Drake couldn’t utter a word. Josh was in love with him?
“I shouldn’t be surprise that you never realized. It’s not like you ever paid attention to him when we were in school. Or outside of school, like when you would order your popcorn and soda from him at the theatre or when he’d come to every one of your shows.”
He tried to recall seeing Josh in these situations, head running through the memories of his high school days. But all he could dredge up was boredom and loathing and loneliness.
“Why do you think I made your life a living hell with that whole incident with Mrs. Hayfer’s car? Payback for hurting Josh, you asshole. That’s right, you had it coming the whole time.”
Drake shook his head in disbelief, ready to jump into a tirade of his own, but Mindy sighed and went on.
“I’m not saying he still feels the same way now, because I’m pretty sure that ship sailed after graduation, but I’m saying that if you do anything to hurt him or screw him over.” She walked up to Drake, her nose inches away from Drake’s face. Sticking a finger into Drake’s chest, she emphasized each word with a hard, solid poke. “I will find you, rip out your spine from your ass and make you scream like a little girl. I’ll make you wish you’d never fucked anyone in your entire life. You know what I’m capable of, and you better not forget it. Fuck this up? And you will regret ever looking at Josh. You hear me?”
Drake nodded shakily, gulping as Mindy raised an eyebrow and stepped back. “Okay then. I’m going to pause cleaning to go shopping. For more beer. It appears as though we’re out.”
Before Drake could even formulate any words on his tongue (nonetheless let Mindy know that there was more beer, in the fridge), Mindy walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. He listened to the sound of keys being jangled before hearing the front door open and shut.
Drake walked out of the kitchen, his appetite sufficiently killed. He glanced up the staircase and bit his lip.
Up those stairs and behind that door was a naked man in a bed. A naked man who was in love with Drake, once upon a time.
As he slowly made his way up, he thought with every step, ‘Maybe he still feels that way. Maybe I could feel that way.’
Something inside of Drake sung out that yes, he could.
And yes, he could.
--
Walking into the theatre, Josh couldn’t help but smile and take a deep whiff of the buttery air. Some things never changed, he thought as he glanced over towards the booths and watched a group of teenagers burst into boisterous laughter.
It had been one year. One whole year. Not very long when taking into consideration that the world’s been going around in circles of a good billion of years.
But in context of Josh’s life, that one year had been one of the longest years ever.
College will do that to a guy.
As Josh walked up to the counter he caught the gaze of a familiar face.
“Gavin! Hey!”
Still sporting the long hair and the slightly dazed look, Gavin smiled and waved. “Oh hi Josh. Home from college for the summer?”
Josh nodded and surveyed the rest of the theatre lobby. “Yeah, just thought I’d stop by. You know, for old time’s sake.”
Gavin smirked. “He’s not here, you know.” Josh’s wandering eyes found their way back to Gavin. “He’s off today. From what I’ve heard, he’s back home. With Jenny.”
Raising an eyebrow of interest, Josh hesitated before taking the bait. “Jenny. Who’s Jenny?”
Shrugging, Gavin reached into the glass cabinet and pulled out a box of Nutter Butters. “Some girl he’s been going on for months now. Poor kid, I think he’s in love.”
Josh felt a heavy force hit him in the chest as he let those words sink in. “Oh. Well. I wouldn’t want to disturb him or anything.” He bit his tongue before the words ‘Why didn’t he tell me?’ could slip out.
“Go see him, man. He’ll be really happy to see you. I know it.”
Josh nodded slowly, giving Gavin a faint smile as he turned around and walked out of the theatre.
He would, then. He would go and see him. And meet this Jenny.
Because if Jenny was making Drake happy, then Josh would be happy for him. That’s what friends were for, right?
Because Drake and Josh - they were friends. Nothing more than really good friends.
There should be no reason for Josh to think that he would be anything more than Drake’s very best friend. A friend who had made sure that Drake got home from work safely every night. Who would pick up the phone when Drake would call at 2 in the morning, shaking and sobbing from a bad dream. Who would drop anything at the slightest request of Drake to ‘please, please, please come over and watch my 2002 recording of Zero Gravity’s L.A. performance with me again?’
Josh, who went to college and still spoke to Drake almost every night on the phone. Who would receive weird texts from Drake all day, stuff like, ‘The popcorn’s looking at me funny,’ or ‘I got stuck on mop duty, again. I swear I didn’t mean to bite that little girl.’
And maybe it was because Josh treated Drake normal, and because Josh talked to Drake about his life on a day-by-day basis, and maybe this constant connection to the real world was all helping Drake to shake off his Crazy.
But sometimes - sometimes Drake would have a mini breakdown. Something would trigger him and he would just explode into hysterics. Into tears. Into paranoia. Into trembling withdrawal that Josh would spend hours speaking softly and singing lowly to Drake, coaxing and pleading the boy to ‘please at least leave your closet and get a drink of water.’
Because it was Josh who was Drake’s very best friend.
Josh, who had come home for Christmas break and spent nearly every of his free days at Drake’s house, catching up and having the most fun he’d had in a long time. Watching movies and listening to music and driving around San Francisco and catching a late night movie in the back row of Theatre 7 at The Premier where Josh and Drake had giggled and snickered their way through a messy make out session that included but was not limited to groping and petting.
And when Drake had nearly flipped his lid over the sight of a drunken tussle outside a bar on the ride home, Josh had talked Drake down and out of his head-between-the-knees-while-rocking-rocking-rocking position and into Drake’s house, where he had helped Drake undress and crawl into bed. Josh, who had been unable to pry his wrist from Drake’s grip when he grabbed him and begged him to ‘please don’t leave. Just stay with me, Josh?’ And he couldn’t say no, because it was Drake.
Waking up wrapped around Drake’s peacefully sleeping body was like a double edged sword, because it told Josh that Drake needed him - and he couldn’t decide if this was an amazingly good thing or an amazingly bad thing.
Josh wasn’t a hundred percent sure that it would help, but he went out and blew a good 600 dollars on a really nice acoustic guitar and a few instruction manuals, giving it to Drake as a Christmas present. The look on the boy’s face when he unwrapped the case and opened it up - well, Josh was pretty sure he’d never seen another person light up with happiness as much as Drake had.
Hours and hours Drake had spent, strumming and humming and noodling around. Sometimes he’d follow from the book and sometimes he’d play around, fingers moving and strumming and at last in rhythm. In peace.
Drake’s phone calls had become nightly serenades, Josh having to put his cell on speaker so his ears wouldn’t become deafened by the loud tremors of Drake playing his latest song for Josh.
Which, in all reality, surprised Josh at first. That Drake had managed to write his own honest to God original songs.
It shouldn’t have, because Josh should have known that Drake wasn’t completely stupid. Just a little more off kilter than what was considered normal.
And maybe it was just unsettling for Josh because he was used to being able to predict Drake, as unpredictable as the guy could be. Because even though Drake was a handful sometimes, a hassle and draining and tiring, Josh felt filled when he knew that Drake was being taken care of by him.
Drake needed him. And Josh loved (yet feared) knowing that.
But. Somehow. Over the past few months, Drake’s phone calls had become less of Drake running to Josh about his problems but more so of Drake running to Josh to share his latest discoveries.
Like how Drake had written five songs in one week. And how he’d played them for Helen and Gavin and a small crowd at The Premiere. How a nice girl had asked Drake to go to a movie. And Drake had accepted. And how excited Drake was that he had a new friend.
These kinds of new developments had Josh nervous. Because what if Drake was alright now? What if Drake could take care of himself? What if Drake had found new friends, friends he could spend his time with more easily than long distance phone calls to Josh who was across the country and far away?
What if Drake didn’t need Josh anymore?
And then these thoughts did nothing but make Josh feel guilty, because wasn’t this what Josh had wanted all along? For Drake to get better? For Drake to feel good and confident and safe? Wasn’t this Josh’s intention from the get go, to make life easier and more enjoyable for timid and skittish Drake Parker?
Josh was an asshole and he knew it. A selfish, heartless asshole.
He sighed as he pulled into Drake’s empty driveway (Mrs. Parker was unquestionably always absent, and Josh knew better than to even think to ask where she was tonight). The house that usually looked empty and lonely had lights in the windows and warmth slowly leaking out to greet Josh.
Walking up to the front door, Josh knocked heavily, hearing the soft call of ‘Coming! Coming, coming, coming!’ until the door swung open and Josh had to suck in a deep breath because there was Drake, Drake standing in the door way with wet hair and no shirt on and not-quite-as-pale skin and a huge grin spreading across his freckled face (freckles that had seemed to pop up out of nowhere, which told Josh more than words - told Josh that Drake had been outside, in the sun, like a normal person, and Josh couldn’t help but feel absolutely guilty when his stomach dropped a little before swirling with happiness for Drake’s happiness).
“Hey Drake.”
He clutched the door open, eyes bulging and teeth bared and bright. Josh smiled back, his face starting to sweat. Drake had always had a knack for making Josh feel a little off balance.
“Are you going to let me in or - “
Drake instantly launched himself into Josh’s unprepared arms, wrapping himself around Josh with all four limbs. Josh gasped with surprise, but caught the boy’s lithe frame, holding him tight as Drake began to laugh happily into Josh’s ear.
“You’re home! You’re home! You told me you were coming home and here you are! My Josh, home!”
Josh blushed and burst into a humongous grin. “Yeah, I’m home Drake. I’m home.”
Climbing off and out of Josh’s embrace, Drake grabbed Josh by the hand and led him inside.
“C’mon! I want to show you something.”
Josh couldn’t even get a word in - not unusual, seeing as this was Drake and Drake did what Drake wanted regardless of what other people had to say - so he let Drake drag him into the house and towards the living room.
“She’s right over here, and I can’t wait for you to see in person!”
Automatically overwhelmed with nausea, Josh bit back the cry of displeasure as his mind screamed, ‘Is this Jenny you’re going to show me?! Is this your replacement for me?!’
Instead of a person in the living room, though, all Drake and Josh joined was Drake’s guitar laying delicately on the couch. Drake let go of Josh’s hand to pick the guitar up, his fingers carefully gliding up the neck and over the belly as Drake sat down and settled the wooden instrument into his lap.
“Listen!”
Josh sat down and listened, captivated by the sounds that Drake could produce just with his fingers and the strings of that guitar. When Drake opened his mouth and started singing, though, Josh almost fell over. Because Drake had never done that over the phone for Josh.
And it was so good, so beautiful, so Drake that Josh had to fight back tears.
When Drake finished he turned to Josh, eyes waiting and waiting for Josh’s response. When Josh sniffled lightly, Drake shimmied a little before setting down the guitar and crawling into Josh’s lap to give him a tight hug.
“I - I didn’t know you could sing, Drake.”
“Was saving it for when you were here, in real person flesh. Wanted you to hear it with your ears right in front of me.”
Josh choked back a sob. “It was beautiful, Drake. I never knew you could - “ Josh broke off before he could vocalize his overwhelming pride and - God, it scared him - love for the boy in his lap.
“I wrote it for you, Josh. I write almost all my songs for you. Jenny and I, we just love making songs for you.”
Pausing long enough to gain control of his tear ducts, Josh furrowed his brow. “Jenny? Who’s Jenny?”
Drake blinked before smiling like a six-year-old. “My guitar, of course. Her name’s Jenny and she likes it best when I play songs about you. I think it’s because she thinks she loves you more than me, but she’s wrong. I tell her all the time, ‘Only I can love Josh as much as I love Josh, because we’re boyfriends and that’s what boyfriends do, love each other more than anyone else.’”
The tears were coming back and this time Josh wasn’t sure if he would be able to control them. “W-what? Boyfriends?”
Eyes growing soft with concern, Drake grabbed Josh’s face with both hands and frowned. “Well, yeah. I mean, that’s what we are, right? I mean, we talk on the phone all the time, we kiss and we take care of each other. And we love each other. That’s what boyfriends are, right?”
Josh bit his lip and nodded slowly. And maybe he was just really slow, because how could he have not realized this sooner? That Drake wasn’t just a really good friend, a person that Josh looked out for.
And it wasn’t just Josh looking out for Drake, it was the other way around as well. Because, in Drake’s own Drake-ish way, he took care of Josh, too. Always listening, always giving Josh advice (really strange advice that just made Josh laugh and shake his head, but it’s the thought that counts). Always keeping Josh grounded.
Just like Josh kept Drake grounded. And maybe it was like a circular cycle of Josh keeping Drake sane whilst Drake kept Josh sane. And together they made each other complete. And happy.
As Josh let all this sink in, gazing up into Drake’s sweet and loving eyes, Josh knew that now was not the time for such analytical thought processes. He leaned up and caught Drake’s lips for a tender kiss, pulling the boy down next to him.
For hours they exchanged long, lingering kisses and snippets of sweet nothings while entangled together on the couch. Slowly, Drake drifted off into an easy sleep. Josh watched and listened as his breathing became peaceful and calm. Running his fingers through the auburn hair, Josh knew that it wasn’t just Drake needing him.
It was about them needing each other.
--
Airports are tricky places. They always mess with people’s emotions.
Whether you’re coming or going, there’s always something you’re leaving behind.
Or returning to.
As Drake sat on the ledge of the baggage claim that was identified as ‘Arriving from JFK,’ he watched through the shadowing of his sunglasses for a familiar face. Arms and ankles crossed, Drake tried to remain as calm as possible, hopeful that people won’t take any careful glances in his direction.
He didn’t really feel like having to deal with a crowd of fans, all screaming for Drake Parker’s attention. He didn’t want to be The Drake Parker right now. He didn’t want to be any other kind of Drake, not any kind of Drake from any kind of other place or time or situation.
He didn’t want to be anything but what he was at that very moment.
Drake, waiting for his long-time boyfriend to get off his plane and be home from college. For good.
Or, at least until Graduate School. Which was already decided to be on the West Coast, if only because Drake had done an insane amount of begging and haggling (although, to Josh’s credit, he had already picked out his graduate school before Drake had started in with the sexual favors).
And Drake didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world than where he was right here.
Just waiting. Waiting for the man of his life to glide down that escalader over there and walk into Drake’s waiting arms. Because Drake had been waiting a long time for this moment.
Drake wanted to be able to pull Josh close, to feel Josh’s arms wrap around him and tug him into the air. To swing him around a little and make his feet slightly drag against the tile of the airport floors.
All Drake wanted was to be able to kiss Josh, loud and obvious. To be able to look the man in the eye and say, “Welcome home, honey. Missed you.”
Drake wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world - not for a Grammy, not for a chance to tour with Zero Gravity, not for anything.
This was the moment that Drake had been waiting for.
As Josh’s disheveled figure appeared ahead, slowly making his way down the escalator and across the baggage pick-up lobby, Drake smiled and sat up.
Small steps turned into heavy steps broke into a steady run glided into a heart thumping sprint. He didn’t even care when his sunglasses flew off and clattered onto the floor.
Josh caught Drake in his arms and laughed.
As they kissed, wet and sloppy, muttering ‘I missed you’ and ‘Welcome home’ and ‘I love you,’ Drake was pretty sure nothing could be sweeter than a reunion with the love of his life.
Author: stttmsbwa
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Hmmm, nope. I wish, though.
Summary: No matter where or when, there is always a Drake and a Josh to be reunited. AU
A/N: This is the (extremely late) Christmas/Birthday fic that I planned out to write for folkloric_feel that I took forever to finally finish. It follows her Christmas prompt of "reunion" and her love for the original fic of these 'verses, Not This Way. In all honesty, this was a long time coming. I really enjoyed my first trip with these 'verses, but the second time was like a reunion of my own (look at me, getting all metaphorical and sappy). Well, anyhow. I hope this meets all the expectations of the people who wanted to see more of these AU situations!
Josh was pretty sure he was regretting everything in his life, especially his decision to participate in the Big Brother program, even more so because he allowed himself to be paired with a certain English-failing teen, so much more because said teen was a completely-underage-jail-bait-sexy-little-tease, and even so much more that said jail bait had some how conned - conned - Josh into this entire situation.
A situation that had Josh wishing that he had never ever thought it would be a good idea to
The call came around two in the afternoon on a Tuesday. Josh wasn’t able to pick it up - he was stuck in the middle of his Biology and Society quiz. Josh wasn’t able to call back after class - he had to run back to his apartment and change into his waiting uniform and rush over to pull a 4 to 10 dinner shift (during which he had no time to even text back a “sorry, I’ve been busy” text).
Not that it didn’t bother Josh. It bothered Josh greatly. And not that this was different from other things that bothered Josh - he typically hated neglecting phone calls and obligations and the like.
But this particular missed call bothered him twenty times more than any other missed call usually would. Because this missed call had nearly sent him into a panic attack in between question 2 and 3 of his quiz.
Calling…Drake Parker
Drake Parker. Drake Parker, the first and last kid Josh had ever been paired up with through the “Big Brother” program. Drake Parker, the reason who Josh had quit the “Big Brother” program. Drake Parker, the high school kid that had finagled Josh into taking him to a college party.
Josh sighed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, sliding the phone up to stare at his missed calls.
Drake Parker
Setting the phone down, Josh unbuttoned his shirt and contemplated his options. In the dark of his apartment, Josh allowed himself to relive that night, if only to remind him of all the reasons why calling Drake back was bad (which, horrifically enough, were also some of the reasons why it was good).
The party had been mild enough. Just some friends of Josh’s that he had made through his roommate freshman year. They weren’t an exceptionally rowdy bunch. A smallish house that was a half a block away from the frats.
The stack of red silo cups that sat by the front door caused Josh’s fingers to twitch a little, especially when Drake had immediately reached for his own. Grumbling to himself, Josh shelled out a ten from his wallet for the formidable guy standing guard at the door and grabbed his own cup, fighting against the somewhat filled entrance to keep up with Drake.
Running his hand through his hair, Josh chuckled to himself as he remembered how easily he’d lost Drake that night. After pushing through globs and huddles and clusters of girls and guys and couples, all talking and all drinking and all touching and kissing and groping and -
And that’s how Josh had found Drake. On a crowded couch with a girl in a mini dress straddling his lap. Tongues sliding and fingers wandering. And Josh couldn’t decide if that tightening, breathless pain in his chest was the result of his “Big Brother” protectiveness kicking in, or his all-consuming mindless jealousy roaring in his head.
Looking back at the moment, Josh realizes that what he should have done was pull the girl of the minor, grip Drake’s arm and yank him out of that house.
Instead, Josh had made a bee line for the supply of Jungle Juice.
Grimacing at the memory, Josh told himself for the hundredth time that he would never ever again go anywhere near Jungle Juice, ever again. Because, after four cup fulls?
Josh Nichols was not a wise drunk. Not that any drunk could ever be truly wise. But Josh Nichols in particular was an unintelligent and reckless drunk.
Which would explain why Josh found himself wobbling towards the scene of debauchery, sight slightly blurred but mind absolutely sure that what he was doing was absolutely correct and right and just because Josh grabbed Drake’s shoulder and felt a spark was nothing, nothing at all and all that mattered was that Josh get Drake away from the skanky ho-bag who did not deserve to lay her lips on the poor underage boy with a million freckles scattered all over his face and his neck and his arms and probably other places that Josh felt the sudden urge to uncover and discover and plot and record into his memory forever.
And somewhere in between “skanky ho-bag” and “the sudden urge,” Josh had managed to drag Drake into the entrance of the house, muttering incoherent slurs and ignoring the halfhearted protests of a slightly buzzed Drake.
“Josh! What’s the deal man? I mean, are - are you okay?”
No, Josh was not okay. Josh was slowly backing Drake up against a wall and this was bad because Drake was young and Josh was older and Drake was drunk and Josh was drunk and such pretty eyes and such a sweet looking mouth and such soft looking lips and Josh just wanted and wanted and wanted to tell Drake everything he felt and desired and -
“Your paper on Macbeth s’real good.”
Drake had blinked a few times before curling his mouth up into a sly smile. Josh realized that that smile was only a few inches away from his chin. So close.
“Really? You think so?”
Josh nodded emphatically.
“Mean it, Drake. S’reaaal good. Best work you’ve shown me all semester.”
Drake bit his lip, feigning modesty. Josh gulped.
And then Josh felt the tug from behind his head, startled by the sudden appearance of Drake’s hands clutching his face closer, and then he was kissing Drake and Drake was kissing back and Josh had the younger boy pressed against the wall of the hallway and Drake was moaning into Josh mouth and Josh was breathing heavily and God this was fantastic and Josh couldn’t believe that he was finally doing this, finally kissing Drake, his seventeen year old student.
Josh pushed away from Drake’s hold and gasped. Even in his inebriated state, Josh knew that the look on Drake’s face was filled with confusion and hurt and - it scared Josh, made him shudder when he saw that look - lust.
“Gotta get you home. S’late.”
Fiddling with his phone, Josh shook his head at the memory of that night.
The very next day had him resigning from the program, throwing out excuses like “classes getting too intense” and “just not working out for me.”
And now it had been a year. And Josh was a senior. And Drake was a senior.
And Josh couldn’t call Drake back. Just couldn’t. This isn’t how things were supposed to happen. Things were supposed to remain awkward and uncomfortable and Drake was supposed to move on and have a successful life with plenty of happiness and grow unease towards the sad, sorry never-left-home Josh Nichols, that college kid who tried to molest him once at a college party.
Which, when Josh thinks about it, is most likely just a tad of an overreaction, because Josh knew he would leave home some day (God, how he hoped and hoped and prayed) and Drake is the one who made the first move and it was Drake who in fact practically forced Josh to take him to the damn party in the first place.
This was enough encouragement for Josh to resolutely flip open his phone and hit the call back button.
He could do this. He could do this. He could do this.
Ring
Fuck, no he couldn’t. Josh hastily canceled the call, only to curse under his breath immediately afterwards.
How stupid was he, really?
It took twenty seconds for his phone to ring, and Josh’s heart raced to its maximum speed when he saw the name that flashed across the screen.
Drake Parker
Breathing in and out once, Josh flipped open his phone.
“Hello?”
”Do you always call people and then hang up before they can answer?”
The voice was different and the same all at once. It was crisp and playful and young and yet more deep and mature and completely Drake.
“Drake.”
“Yes, Josh. It’s me.”
Drake. Drake. Drake Drake Drake.
“You called me.”
”Yes. I did.”
“Why?”
The short pause felt like a painful age and a half.
”A lot of reasons, really. Mostly because I just wanted to know how you are. I mean, you kind of just disappeared. Out of nowhere. And in the most inconvenient of times, too.”
Josh’s mouth went dry and he let Drake continue.
”Also because I just wanted to let you know that I finished last year with a B in Mrs. Heifer’s class. And it’s, well, it’s because of you. And I just wanted to, you know, thank you.”
Heart soaring with pride, Josh tried to drudge up words of praise, but Drake continued.
”And, honestly, because I can’t get the memory of your tongue in my mouth out of my head and I really want to see you again.”
Josh gulped heavily.
“Drake, I - “
”And I also turned eighteen two months ago. You know, if it helps.”
It did, and fuck it all because it did.
”Josh, please. Just. See me again. Anywhere. Just soon.”
Thinking for a total of 29 seconds, Josh nodded even though he knew Drake couldn’t see him. It was more for himself anyhow.
“Yeah, sure. I’d love that.”
And just like that, Josh had a date with the face that had been haunting his dreams for the past year.
--
Things were going quite swimmingly. Or at least Drake was telling himself so. It made the situation feel less awkward and complicated.
Because, really, ever since that one time when Drake made that awful mistake of running away from home for a few years, coming back to his original home gave him the chills. As though he was a demon crossing over onto holy grounds and at any moment he would be smited for his crimes.
But this time it was okay. This time Drake was accompanied by his very own guardian angel.
An extremely gorgeous guardian angel with sparkling hazel eyes and a luscious full mouth and big strong hands that could make Drake lose all sense of control.
With his mind leading him to such devious thoughts, Drake stuttered his steps and mentally cursed himself for allowing his mother to talk him out of booking a room in a nearby hotel. Because how in the world was he supposed to get it on when his mother and sister were sleeping down the hallway?
Come to think of it, though, it wasn’t as if he had had any problems before. Plenty of faceless and nameless girls and guys had been snuck through Drake’s window for a midnight romp in between the sheets.
But then again, Drake didn’t want to think about his sketchy past and of all his indiscretions. And besides, Josh wasn’t just some drunken hook up that Drake would roll out of his bed when he was finished and or sober.
And perhaps all of Drake’s rambling thoughts were simply the result of the anxiety he was feeling in regards to the fact that he was taking said Josh home, home, to meet his family. His mother and his sister.
Who, in fact, had never ever been formally introduced to any of Drake’s anythings (because an awkward walk of shame in the morning after does not count, not in the least).
And Drake’s therapist had told him that in times of anxiety the mind often tends to start digging up all sorts of nerve-wracking thoughts that do nothing but increase the nervousness and Drake has to pause and bend over slightly because he starts to feel nauseous and really really really starts craving a drink.
Which, he tells himself, is just his body’s natural reaction to reach towards an object that he associates with comfort. Which, in his case, is an unnatural reaction. Which is why Drake needs to find other things to associate with comfort.
Which should not be Josh. Because it is not healthy to concentrate all aspects of comfort and security upon another human being, especially one that is of romantic interest. Or so says Drake’s therapist.
The gentle yet firm touch of Josh’s fingers rubbing circles on Drake’s lower back is enough to push these thoughts down.
To hell with his therapist, anyway.
“You alright?”
Drake smiled reassuringly, hoping that his face wasn’t pasty like his heart was feeling.
“Either way, it’s not like you’re not an EMT or whatever.”
Josh raised an eyebrow, his hand rising up to gently rub the back of Drake’s neck.
“I know, I know. It’s just that - “ Drake sighed and leaned into the touch. “I hate going home.”
Biting his lip, Josh doesn’t say anything. Drake silently thanks Josh’s refrain by standing straight and pecking a chaste kiss to the taller man’s cheek.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. And they’re gonna love you. Probably more than me.”
-
Drake hadn’t been far off. His mother and sister did indeed take to Josh much in the way that everyone on the planet did.
“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest?”
Megan snorted as she watched their mother fawning over Josh’s dish washing skills. She turned to Drake and grinned maliciously.
“So where did you find this one, boob? Put an ad in the paper that said, ‘Perfect Gentleman Needed To Impress My Disappointed Family?’”
Drake scowled and kicked her right leg’s shin.
Not too hard.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve known Josh for a year now.”
Megan turned her gaze back to Josh and gave him a look over.
“Before or after?”
Wincing softly, Drake inhaled heavily before answering.
“Before.”
Megan’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Wow. And you guys have been dating the whole time?”
Drake shook his head. “No. Well, sort of. We didn’t get serious until after I got out. But he was with me through the whole time, always being my link to the outside world. He helped me get through it all.”
Nodding her head, Megan turned to watch Josh as he innocently flirted with their mother. “Well I’ll be damned. I think you’ve found yourself your perfect man.”
Drake smiled, sighing heavily. “Yeah. I know. I just hope he doesn’t realize that he could do better.”
Megan scowled and smacked her brother’s arm, ignoring his indignant yelp of pain.
“Don’t be such a boob. He’d be a moron to give you up.” She hesitated before continuing. “Well, you know. The sober, no-longer-in-rehab you. This you. The real Drake. This is the real you, right?”
Drake gulped and nodded, still softly rubbing at the sore spot on his arm. Megan bit her lip and reached her hand out to rest on Drake’s shoulder.
“You really know how to worry us. Mom and me. I’m not saying that I’ll ever forget what you’ve put us through after all these years, but I can at least tell you that I’ll forgive you.”
Grinning sheepishly, Drake leaned into Megan’s touch. “If what? You’ll forgive me if what?”
Megan uses her hand to playfully shove Drake away.
“Only if you bring this oaf around more often. I think Mom is smitten, and God knows I like him more than I’ll ever like you, you dumb ass.”
She walked out of the kitchen, dragging their giggling mother along with her, throwing a lecherous wink in Drake’s direction before the door closed. Drake rolled his eyes and walked over to Josh. Pulling the towel out of Josh’s almost-pruning hands, Drake planted his hands around Josh’s waist and dragged him flush to his own body.
“Hey.”
“Hey, there. Am I doing good? Do the girls like me?”
Drake laughed. “I think like is an understatement. Megan says that Mom probably wants to run away with you and that she likes you more than me. I’d say you have a major in.”
Josh’s eyes lit up and he smiled at Drake, resting his hands on Drake’s hips.
“Awesome. Thanks for bringing me here. It’s been amazing, meeting your family. Seeing your baby pictures. Great times.”
Drake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever you perv.”
They both laughed and Drake reached up to hold Josh’s face between his hands.
“Really, though, Josh. Thank you. For coming here. Doing this. It means a lot to my family. To me. Thank you so much.”
Josh shrugged. “No problem at all.”
They stood there for a minute, staring into each others eyes. Drake tried to say it, to tell Josh exactly everything he felt and he thought - how thankful he was for Josh, thankful that Josh had been there for him through it all. He tried but he couldn’t quite come up with the perfect words.
Someday. Someday, though, Drake would have them.
For now, though.
“Hug me.”
Josh smirked and bent down to press his lips against Drake’s. The kiss was heavy and deep, both men feeling the weight of their emotions.
And Drake knew that what he had - whether it would last or not - was good. Great.
Better than anything he could have asked for.
--
There was something about going back that really made Drake want to smack a bitch.
Or, well, really just find the closest trash can and hurl.
Because, high school and Drake Nichols? Did not get along so much. Not so much at all.
Drake Nichols who was reclusive and would bury himself in his studies and music and who tried to avoid nearly all social contact with anyone.
And who in Senior year had a strangely bizarre super-secret affair with his newly acquired stepbrother.
So it made perfect sense that Drake would feel slightly nauseated and irritated by the fact that he was walking into the dingy gym of his old high school in an itchy suit jacket that was once his father’s. He approached the front table and frowned down at the chipper girl sitting on the stool and handing out name tags.
“Well, hello there! Name please?”
Drake cleared his throat before responding. “Drake. Nichols.”
The girl’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of Drake, head to foot. “Oh my. It is. Drake Nichols! You look so, so, grown up!” Her hands shook as she handed the name tag to Drake. He forced a smile as he received the sticker, peeling the plastic off to stick it on his jacket.
She blinked up at him, eyes batting and teeth shining brightly.
“Don’t - don’t you remember me?”
Drake looked - honestly looked and tried to place her face to a name.
“Sandy.”
The girl burst into giggles and held a hand over her mouth. “You do remember! Well, I - I mean, this - it’s so great to see you again and I - “
Drake didn’t even wait for her to finish, walking away while waving and trying to keep his grin from falling.
“You totally read her nametag, didn’t you?”
Startled by the voice, Drake spun around to see a face he most certainly could remember the name of.
“Mindy Crenshaw.”
“Drake Nichols.”
They paused for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Drake opened his arms and Mindy walked right into the hug, squeaking a little as Drake spun her around in a little circle.
“You’re such an asshole, leaving town and becoming all big and famous out in L.A. Not coming home for ten years, not even to say hello to an old friend. How will I ever forgive you?”
Drake rolled his eyes and dropped Mindy to the ground. “You big hypocrite. Who flew off to the East Coast to become some bigwig scientist’s personal assistant as an undergrad? I do believe I was home, just never when you were. Which I could easily say was done on purpose.”
Mindy scoffed and swatted Drake in the arm. “Whatever. You’re just jealous that I went to college and you didn’t. Whereas I’m jealous that you’re now famous in all sorts of ways and the only place I’m known in is the world of science.”
“But I thought you always said that the only world was the world of science?”
“Damn straight it is!”
They couldn’t help but burst into another round of giggles. Mindy sighed heavily and motioned towards the punch table. “Gotta go refresh myself. I’ll be back. Don’t you dare try to slink away, Nichols!”
Drake rolled his eyes and watched Mindy walk away. Some things never changed.
Like the scenes that played out before him. A gym filled with people, chunks of cliques that were all engaged in their own conversations and worlds. So many people that Drake had seen every day of his life for four years, but had no recollection of ever knowing any of them.
High school. What a fucking joke.
It’s not as if Drake didn’t want to get to know people. He was just incredibly picky when it came to the people he let himself get close to.
”You really don’t like it, do you?”
Drake sat on the couch, sprawled out with his guitar resting on his chest as he strummed lazily along with the tune in his head. Words would come, soon enough words would come.
He shrugged in response and Josh snorted. “Whatever dude, I know you hate everything about high school. You don’t have to play off like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Drake ignored Josh and continued with his strumming.
“You could at least try to make this whole situation a little better. You know, by actually engaging in a civilized conversation with me. One that doesn’t start with a fight. It would make our time together less, you know, awkward and painful.”
Drake gazed in Josh’s direction, eyes level and revealing no emotion. “I’m pretty sure that conversations that don’t start in a fight will just end in a fight, regardless of what we talk about. And I don’t think our mutual silence is awkward or painful. I actually find it quite peaceful, thank you very much.”
He turned his focus back on his guitar, and didn’t watch as Josh slowly walked closer and closer towards the couch.
“Whatever, man. You can pretend all day and twice on Sunday that this isn’t gonna happen, that it doesn’t happen at all. But I’m calling your bullshit.”
The couch cushion sunk as Josh crawled on, using his right hand to grab the guitar and yank it out of Drake’s grip. Starting to protest, Drake stopped when Josh gently placed the guitar on the floor and straddled Drake’s waist.
“Because I’m sick of pretending that this - this what we’re doing - is just because we’re two horny teenage guys stuck in a room together every night.”
Drake groaned as Josh ran a hand over Drake’s hip, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt.
“Because I want to actually get to know the guy that I’ve been blowing for the past few months.”
His breath hitched as Josh moved his fingers to trace the waist line of Drake’s jeans.
“Because I think that the guy who manhandles my dick every night should at least know something about me, other than how to make me come faster than an overeager thirteen-year-old virgin.”
Drake clenched his eyes shut when Josh’s hand gripped Drake’s growing erection through the denim, squeezing lightly. Josh smiled as he leaned his face lower and closer to Drake’s.
“Because I like you, Nichols. More than I’d like to admit.”
The words hit Drake like an electric shock, causing him to launch his face upward to catch Josh’s lips with his own. Josh instantaneously reciprocated, pressing back with a bruising intensity that had Drake moaning and thrusting into Josh’s still-squeezing hand.
Josh broke away from the kiss only to breathily taunt Drake - “Admit it, Nichols. You want to know me, too” - before fumbling with the button and fly on Drake’s jeans.
Drake didn’t respond with anything but a strangled cry, which could have been interpreted as a cry of pleasure in response to having one’s aroused dick touched.
But Drake really knew - and even Josh really knew - that the cry was Drake’s own response of, “Yeah, I do. I really fucking do want to know you, too.”
And even as Josh worked him closer and closer to the edge, those words in his head bounced around and around until Drake realized that it worked really well with the rhythm he had been playing with earlier.
“After all these years and I was right, then, huh? You really don’t like it.”
Drake flinched and twisted his head around to catch the face of the voice he could not not recognize.
“Josh.”
“Drake.”
Josh grinned and stuck out a hand. Drake took it without hesitation and they shook heavy and long. Letting go first, Josh slung an arm around Drake’s shoulders and pulled him in close for a slightly awkward side hug.
“You had that pained look on your face, the one that says, ‘I hate the world and everyone in it.’”
Nodding knowingly, Drake sighed and pointed into the crowd.
“Tell me one thing you remember about these people that isn’t bad or scandalous or stupid.”
Josh trailed his eyes along the clumps of people, scanning and figuring. “Well, I remember that Joanne made really good oatmeal cookies. And that Jason wasn’t such a douche once you got him away from his teammates and womenfolk.”
Shaking his head with disdain, Drake pulled out from under Josh’s hold. “Fine. You knew these people. I didn’t. They didn’t care about me, I didn’t care about them. I shouldn’t have to be here when I have absolutely no connection with any of them.”
“I never said that I actually cared about any of these people,” Josh replied, shrugging as he continued to stare out into the mass of twentysomethings. “I’m just saying that I remember them.”
He turned to face Drake, eyes glittering with mischief. “I can tell you who I did care about, though. The only person I can remember ever actually wanting to know. Head to foot, mind and soul. I could tell you what I remember of that person. Would you like to hear?”
Drake blushed and took a step back. “No thanks. I’d prefer not to hear your dirty stories about how you used to seduce me behind our parents’ backs.”
Josh coughed out a laugh. “You’re serious? Oh, Nichols. You’ll never change, will you?”
Ears burning for no reason other than that look that was forming on Josh’s face, Drake ignored the question and started to search out Mindy. He needed to save his sanity. Josh only stepped closer, though, mouth hovering inches away from Drake’s ear.
“I’ll bet you I can get you just as hot and bothered as I did back when we were seventeen. I’ll bet that I can get you to sneak into one of these janitor closets so I can yank down your pants and suck your pretty little dick. I’ll bet that I can make you scream and come just as loud and hard as I did that one time I bailed you out of that pop quiz in Mrs. Hayfer’s class.”
Drake groaned but only leaned back closer to Josh. “I would have passed that quiz no problem. S’your fault I missed it. Jerk.”
Josh only laughed and grabbed Drake’s pants by the belt loops, preparing to spin the man around and steal a quick and heated kiss.
“Can’t you two keep it in your pants for one night?” Mindy’s sudden reappearance startled the men, causing them to jump apart and turn into a pair of blushing and stuttering morons.
“I swear, I come all this way in the hopes of spending time with my favorite person in the world and you’re off reliving your days of teenage debauchery. You sluts. Save it for when you’re in your apartment and I’m not around, please.”
Mindy walked over to Drake’s side and looped her arm around his own. “Now excuse me Mr. Parker, but I do believe I must steal Mr. Nichols away for special talk time. Don’t wait up!”
As Mindy dragged Drake towards an empty table, Drake shot Josh a look of helplessness.
‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed, holding his free hand up in defeat.
Josh only grinned and waved, mouthing back, ‘I’ll get you later.’
Later, indeed.
--
It was like almost every other college house; filled with books haphazardly piled and thrown about, musky scent that screamed “young males live here!,” messy and littered with empty cans and bottles.
Drake waded across the trash-covered floor to reach the fridge, in search of something to drink that was nonalcoholic. He found an unopened bottle of Gatorade and grabbed it. Chugging it in two minutes, Drake tossed the empty plastic into the sink and made his way back towards the staircase. He took the stairs two at a time, anxious to get back to that room. Anxious to get back to that bed.
Anxious to get back to the seriously gorgeous naked man underneath those sheets.
Josh Nichols. Who’da thunk, after all these years, Drake would find himself in the company of Josh Nichols?
The door creaked as he pushed it open and said gorgeous naked man looked up from the book he was reading and smiled.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
Josh put down the paperback and motioned his hand over the empty spot next to him. Drake grinned and settled himself onto the bed, hands grabbing for the book in Josh’s hands.
“Kerouac. You really are some kind of hipster wannabe, aren’t you?”
Josh snorted and yanked the book out of Drake’s reach. “Whatever. You don’t even know what you’re talking about. Kerouac is a genius among insignificant nobodies. You wish all your songs together could inspire the kind of greatness that Kerouac managed in one line.”
Rolling his eyes, Drake leaned his head back against the pillow and sighed. “Sure, sure. You think what you want to think. I’ll keep an open mind.”
“Like you did back in high school?”
Drake frowned and tried to place Josh’s words in context, eyes bulging as he made the connection.
“You’re not still holding a grudge against me over the whole Miss Nancy thing, are you? Because I thought you told me last night that you weren’t upset over all that. I mean, I was a stupid kid. I didn’t know what to think, a kid my age waltzing around in a fat lady’s dress. I mean, dude! You had fake breasts and everything! In fact, I think I might be able to blame you for me slowly losing my attraction for the opposite sex. It’s quite possible that you’re the reason I’m off girls for life. Or, well, for when there isn’t an available male at least. If anything, I should have a grudge against you. Why are you laughing?”
Holding the book over his face while the rest of his body shook with stifled laughter, Josh shook his head and held the paperback firmly over his eyes. Drake scowled and yanked at the book. “Hey. Hey! I’m talking to you, Nichols. I’m spilling out my guts here and you’re freaking laughing at me. Is this what you do to all guys you pick up at parties, get drunk and have hot sex with? Is this your natural morning after ritual? Cause it sucks. I hope you don’t intend on ever having me underneath you ever again, cause I’m not putting up with your bullshit ever again.”
Drake gave up trying to grab a hold of the book, choosing to instead hop off the bed and bend down to pick up his shirt. Josh was out of the bed in an instant, coming up from behind with hands grappling for Drake’s waist to pull him close.
“And where do you think you’re going.”
“Leaving your dumb ass,” Drake huffed, trying not to let Josh know that whispering sultry-like in his ear was a surefire way to get him to drop everything and jump back into bed.
“No you’re not. You’re bluffing.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you wouldn’t be letting me do this.”
This? Oh, this. Drake didn’t even have time to gasp as Josh’s fingers trailed lower to peel the elastic band of Drake’s boxers down his hips.
“Okay, I was bluffing. Back in bed.”
-
Three hours later and Drake is back to creeping down the stairs. This time led by the hunger in his stomach. The floors are still kind of messy, but less so. As if someone was up and cleaning.
Sure enough, Drake walks into the kitchen and finds a girl tossing a handful of cans into a trashcan marked as “recycling.” Drake pretended to ignore her as he walked up to the fridge and opened it, recalling that he had seen some peanut butter and bread shoved behind a pack of PBR, fully intending on fixing himself a sandwich. Or two. Or three.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Drake Parker. I heard you were going to be around the place, just didn’t think you’d actually stay the night.”
Swinging the door shut slowly, Drake turned around to face the girl. Her arms were crossed and her face held a look that didn’t spell anything but potential bitch fit.
“And who the hell are you?”
She huffed and wrinkled her nose. “Mindy Crenshaw. Not that you’d remember me. You tended to ignore the lesser people.”
It took a second for Drake to register the name, but when he did he was instantly hit with memories of a hoity-toity stuck up know-it-all bitch that was too smart for her own good.
“I remember you alright. You got me in huge trouble with Mrs. Hayfer that one time her car ended up in her classroom. I don’t know how you did it, but you totally framed me. There’s no way I could have figured out how to get a fucking car inside a classroom.”
Mindy smiled and Drake swore her face got even uglier. He quickly added, “You whore.”
She bent her head back and laughed. “Oh Drake, I do believe it was you who was the whore in high school, not me.”
Drake narrowed his eyes and turned back to the fridge. “Whatever. I’m not here to play around in memories about high school. Let’s save that for the ten year reunion, okay?”
Mindy moved closer, holding out an arm to grab the door and pause Drake’s movements in the fridge.
“Oh really? Then why are you here? Why are you in our kitchen? Why were you in Josh’s bed? Why are you doing this, now? After all these years?”
Her eyes were ablaze with rage and Drake stepped away from the fridge, holding his hands up in defense.
“Whoa, there. I mean, I’m just here because - well, I don’t exactly know why I’m here, but it’s not like I’ve got any bad intentions or anything. You need to seriously chill out there.”
Mindy frowned and closed the door, resting her hands on her hips and gazing at Drake in disbelief.
“I don’t believe it. You don’t even know, do you?”
Drake shook his head slowly. “Don’t even know what?”
“That - good God, Parker - that Josh was completely and utterly head over heels for you in high school. Like, absolutely in love with you. For four years. Ever since that one time your mom went out with his dad and you walked in on him in that stupid Miss Nancy dress. Gone. Smitten. Wrote your name on his notebooks and drew little hearts around it. The whole she-bang!”
Gaping in surprise, Drake couldn’t utter a word. Josh was in love with him?
“I shouldn’t be surprise that you never realized. It’s not like you ever paid attention to him when we were in school. Or outside of school, like when you would order your popcorn and soda from him at the theatre or when he’d come to every one of your shows.”
He tried to recall seeing Josh in these situations, head running through the memories of his high school days. But all he could dredge up was boredom and loathing and loneliness.
“Why do you think I made your life a living hell with that whole incident with Mrs. Hayfer’s car? Payback for hurting Josh, you asshole. That’s right, you had it coming the whole time.”
Drake shook his head in disbelief, ready to jump into a tirade of his own, but Mindy sighed and went on.
“I’m not saying he still feels the same way now, because I’m pretty sure that ship sailed after graduation, but I’m saying that if you do anything to hurt him or screw him over.” She walked up to Drake, her nose inches away from Drake’s face. Sticking a finger into Drake’s chest, she emphasized each word with a hard, solid poke. “I will find you, rip out your spine from your ass and make you scream like a little girl. I’ll make you wish you’d never fucked anyone in your entire life. You know what I’m capable of, and you better not forget it. Fuck this up? And you will regret ever looking at Josh. You hear me?”
Drake nodded shakily, gulping as Mindy raised an eyebrow and stepped back. “Okay then. I’m going to pause cleaning to go shopping. For more beer. It appears as though we’re out.”
Before Drake could even formulate any words on his tongue (nonetheless let Mindy know that there was more beer, in the fridge), Mindy walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. He listened to the sound of keys being jangled before hearing the front door open and shut.
Drake walked out of the kitchen, his appetite sufficiently killed. He glanced up the staircase and bit his lip.
Up those stairs and behind that door was a naked man in a bed. A naked man who was in love with Drake, once upon a time.
As he slowly made his way up, he thought with every step, ‘Maybe he still feels that way. Maybe I could feel that way.’
Something inside of Drake sung out that yes, he could.
And yes, he could.
--
Walking into the theatre, Josh couldn’t help but smile and take a deep whiff of the buttery air. Some things never changed, he thought as he glanced over towards the booths and watched a group of teenagers burst into boisterous laughter.
It had been one year. One whole year. Not very long when taking into consideration that the world’s been going around in circles of a good billion of years.
But in context of Josh’s life, that one year had been one of the longest years ever.
College will do that to a guy.
As Josh walked up to the counter he caught the gaze of a familiar face.
“Gavin! Hey!”
Still sporting the long hair and the slightly dazed look, Gavin smiled and waved. “Oh hi Josh. Home from college for the summer?”
Josh nodded and surveyed the rest of the theatre lobby. “Yeah, just thought I’d stop by. You know, for old time’s sake.”
Gavin smirked. “He’s not here, you know.” Josh’s wandering eyes found their way back to Gavin. “He’s off today. From what I’ve heard, he’s back home. With Jenny.”
Raising an eyebrow of interest, Josh hesitated before taking the bait. “Jenny. Who’s Jenny?”
Shrugging, Gavin reached into the glass cabinet and pulled out a box of Nutter Butters. “Some girl he’s been going on for months now. Poor kid, I think he’s in love.”
Josh felt a heavy force hit him in the chest as he let those words sink in. “Oh. Well. I wouldn’t want to disturb him or anything.” He bit his tongue before the words ‘Why didn’t he tell me?’ could slip out.
“Go see him, man. He’ll be really happy to see you. I know it.”
Josh nodded slowly, giving Gavin a faint smile as he turned around and walked out of the theatre.
He would, then. He would go and see him. And meet this Jenny.
Because if Jenny was making Drake happy, then Josh would be happy for him. That’s what friends were for, right?
Because Drake and Josh - they were friends. Nothing more than really good friends.
There should be no reason for Josh to think that he would be anything more than Drake’s very best friend. A friend who had made sure that Drake got home from work safely every night. Who would pick up the phone when Drake would call at 2 in the morning, shaking and sobbing from a bad dream. Who would drop anything at the slightest request of Drake to ‘please, please, please come over and watch my 2002 recording of Zero Gravity’s L.A. performance with me again?’
Josh, who went to college and still spoke to Drake almost every night on the phone. Who would receive weird texts from Drake all day, stuff like, ‘The popcorn’s looking at me funny,’ or ‘I got stuck on mop duty, again. I swear I didn’t mean to bite that little girl.’
And maybe it was because Josh treated Drake normal, and because Josh talked to Drake about his life on a day-by-day basis, and maybe this constant connection to the real world was all helping Drake to shake off his Crazy.
But sometimes - sometimes Drake would have a mini breakdown. Something would trigger him and he would just explode into hysterics. Into tears. Into paranoia. Into trembling withdrawal that Josh would spend hours speaking softly and singing lowly to Drake, coaxing and pleading the boy to ‘please at least leave your closet and get a drink of water.’
Because it was Josh who was Drake’s very best friend.
Josh, who had come home for Christmas break and spent nearly every of his free days at Drake’s house, catching up and having the most fun he’d had in a long time. Watching movies and listening to music and driving around San Francisco and catching a late night movie in the back row of Theatre 7 at The Premier where Josh and Drake had giggled and snickered their way through a messy make out session that included but was not limited to groping and petting.
And when Drake had nearly flipped his lid over the sight of a drunken tussle outside a bar on the ride home, Josh had talked Drake down and out of his head-between-the-knees-while-rocking-rocking-rocking position and into Drake’s house, where he had helped Drake undress and crawl into bed. Josh, who had been unable to pry his wrist from Drake’s grip when he grabbed him and begged him to ‘please don’t leave. Just stay with me, Josh?’ And he couldn’t say no, because it was Drake.
Waking up wrapped around Drake’s peacefully sleeping body was like a double edged sword, because it told Josh that Drake needed him - and he couldn’t decide if this was an amazingly good thing or an amazingly bad thing.
Josh wasn’t a hundred percent sure that it would help, but he went out and blew a good 600 dollars on a really nice acoustic guitar and a few instruction manuals, giving it to Drake as a Christmas present. The look on the boy’s face when he unwrapped the case and opened it up - well, Josh was pretty sure he’d never seen another person light up with happiness as much as Drake had.
Hours and hours Drake had spent, strumming and humming and noodling around. Sometimes he’d follow from the book and sometimes he’d play around, fingers moving and strumming and at last in rhythm. In peace.
Drake’s phone calls had become nightly serenades, Josh having to put his cell on speaker so his ears wouldn’t become deafened by the loud tremors of Drake playing his latest song for Josh.
Which, in all reality, surprised Josh at first. That Drake had managed to write his own honest to God original songs.
It shouldn’t have, because Josh should have known that Drake wasn’t completely stupid. Just a little more off kilter than what was considered normal.
And maybe it was just unsettling for Josh because he was used to being able to predict Drake, as unpredictable as the guy could be. Because even though Drake was a handful sometimes, a hassle and draining and tiring, Josh felt filled when he knew that Drake was being taken care of by him.
Drake needed him. And Josh loved (yet feared) knowing that.
But. Somehow. Over the past few months, Drake’s phone calls had become less of Drake running to Josh about his problems but more so of Drake running to Josh to share his latest discoveries.
Like how Drake had written five songs in one week. And how he’d played them for Helen and Gavin and a small crowd at The Premiere. How a nice girl had asked Drake to go to a movie. And Drake had accepted. And how excited Drake was that he had a new friend.
These kinds of new developments had Josh nervous. Because what if Drake was alright now? What if Drake could take care of himself? What if Drake had found new friends, friends he could spend his time with more easily than long distance phone calls to Josh who was across the country and far away?
What if Drake didn’t need Josh anymore?
And then these thoughts did nothing but make Josh feel guilty, because wasn’t this what Josh had wanted all along? For Drake to get better? For Drake to feel good and confident and safe? Wasn’t this Josh’s intention from the get go, to make life easier and more enjoyable for timid and skittish Drake Parker?
Josh was an asshole and he knew it. A selfish, heartless asshole.
He sighed as he pulled into Drake’s empty driveway (Mrs. Parker was unquestionably always absent, and Josh knew better than to even think to ask where she was tonight). The house that usually looked empty and lonely had lights in the windows and warmth slowly leaking out to greet Josh.
Walking up to the front door, Josh knocked heavily, hearing the soft call of ‘Coming! Coming, coming, coming!’ until the door swung open and Josh had to suck in a deep breath because there was Drake, Drake standing in the door way with wet hair and no shirt on and not-quite-as-pale skin and a huge grin spreading across his freckled face (freckles that had seemed to pop up out of nowhere, which told Josh more than words - told Josh that Drake had been outside, in the sun, like a normal person, and Josh couldn’t help but feel absolutely guilty when his stomach dropped a little before swirling with happiness for Drake’s happiness).
“Hey Drake.”
He clutched the door open, eyes bulging and teeth bared and bright. Josh smiled back, his face starting to sweat. Drake had always had a knack for making Josh feel a little off balance.
“Are you going to let me in or - “
Drake instantly launched himself into Josh’s unprepared arms, wrapping himself around Josh with all four limbs. Josh gasped with surprise, but caught the boy’s lithe frame, holding him tight as Drake began to laugh happily into Josh’s ear.
“You’re home! You’re home! You told me you were coming home and here you are! My Josh, home!”
Josh blushed and burst into a humongous grin. “Yeah, I’m home Drake. I’m home.”
Climbing off and out of Josh’s embrace, Drake grabbed Josh by the hand and led him inside.
“C’mon! I want to show you something.”
Josh couldn’t even get a word in - not unusual, seeing as this was Drake and Drake did what Drake wanted regardless of what other people had to say - so he let Drake drag him into the house and towards the living room.
“She’s right over here, and I can’t wait for you to see in person!”
Automatically overwhelmed with nausea, Josh bit back the cry of displeasure as his mind screamed, ‘Is this Jenny you’re going to show me?! Is this your replacement for me?!’
Instead of a person in the living room, though, all Drake and Josh joined was Drake’s guitar laying delicately on the couch. Drake let go of Josh’s hand to pick the guitar up, his fingers carefully gliding up the neck and over the belly as Drake sat down and settled the wooden instrument into his lap.
“Listen!”
Josh sat down and listened, captivated by the sounds that Drake could produce just with his fingers and the strings of that guitar. When Drake opened his mouth and started singing, though, Josh almost fell over. Because Drake had never done that over the phone for Josh.
And it was so good, so beautiful, so Drake that Josh had to fight back tears.
When Drake finished he turned to Josh, eyes waiting and waiting for Josh’s response. When Josh sniffled lightly, Drake shimmied a little before setting down the guitar and crawling into Josh’s lap to give him a tight hug.
“I - I didn’t know you could sing, Drake.”
“Was saving it for when you were here, in real person flesh. Wanted you to hear it with your ears right in front of me.”
Josh choked back a sob. “It was beautiful, Drake. I never knew you could - “ Josh broke off before he could vocalize his overwhelming pride and - God, it scared him - love for the boy in his lap.
“I wrote it for you, Josh. I write almost all my songs for you. Jenny and I, we just love making songs for you.”
Pausing long enough to gain control of his tear ducts, Josh furrowed his brow. “Jenny? Who’s Jenny?”
Drake blinked before smiling like a six-year-old. “My guitar, of course. Her name’s Jenny and she likes it best when I play songs about you. I think it’s because she thinks she loves you more than me, but she’s wrong. I tell her all the time, ‘Only I can love Josh as much as I love Josh, because we’re boyfriends and that’s what boyfriends do, love each other more than anyone else.’”
The tears were coming back and this time Josh wasn’t sure if he would be able to control them. “W-what? Boyfriends?”
Eyes growing soft with concern, Drake grabbed Josh’s face with both hands and frowned. “Well, yeah. I mean, that’s what we are, right? I mean, we talk on the phone all the time, we kiss and we take care of each other. And we love each other. That’s what boyfriends are, right?”
Josh bit his lip and nodded slowly. And maybe he was just really slow, because how could he have not realized this sooner? That Drake wasn’t just a really good friend, a person that Josh looked out for.
And it wasn’t just Josh looking out for Drake, it was the other way around as well. Because, in Drake’s own Drake-ish way, he took care of Josh, too. Always listening, always giving Josh advice (really strange advice that just made Josh laugh and shake his head, but it’s the thought that counts). Always keeping Josh grounded.
Just like Josh kept Drake grounded. And maybe it was like a circular cycle of Josh keeping Drake sane whilst Drake kept Josh sane. And together they made each other complete. And happy.
As Josh let all this sink in, gazing up into Drake’s sweet and loving eyes, Josh knew that now was not the time for such analytical thought processes. He leaned up and caught Drake’s lips for a tender kiss, pulling the boy down next to him.
For hours they exchanged long, lingering kisses and snippets of sweet nothings while entangled together on the couch. Slowly, Drake drifted off into an easy sleep. Josh watched and listened as his breathing became peaceful and calm. Running his fingers through the auburn hair, Josh knew that it wasn’t just Drake needing him.
It was about them needing each other.
--
Airports are tricky places. They always mess with people’s emotions.
Whether you’re coming or going, there’s always something you’re leaving behind.
Or returning to.
As Drake sat on the ledge of the baggage claim that was identified as ‘Arriving from JFK,’ he watched through the shadowing of his sunglasses for a familiar face. Arms and ankles crossed, Drake tried to remain as calm as possible, hopeful that people won’t take any careful glances in his direction.
He didn’t really feel like having to deal with a crowd of fans, all screaming for Drake Parker’s attention. He didn’t want to be The Drake Parker right now. He didn’t want to be any other kind of Drake, not any kind of Drake from any kind of other place or time or situation.
He didn’t want to be anything but what he was at that very moment.
Drake, waiting for his long-time boyfriend to get off his plane and be home from college. For good.
Or, at least until Graduate School. Which was already decided to be on the West Coast, if only because Drake had done an insane amount of begging and haggling (although, to Josh’s credit, he had already picked out his graduate school before Drake had started in with the sexual favors).
And Drake didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world than where he was right here.
Just waiting. Waiting for the man of his life to glide down that escalader over there and walk into Drake’s waiting arms. Because Drake had been waiting a long time for this moment.
Drake wanted to be able to pull Josh close, to feel Josh’s arms wrap around him and tug him into the air. To swing him around a little and make his feet slightly drag against the tile of the airport floors.
All Drake wanted was to be able to kiss Josh, loud and obvious. To be able to look the man in the eye and say, “Welcome home, honey. Missed you.”
Drake wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world - not for a Grammy, not for a chance to tour with Zero Gravity, not for anything.
This was the moment that Drake had been waiting for.
As Josh’s disheveled figure appeared ahead, slowly making his way down the escalator and across the baggage pick-up lobby, Drake smiled and sat up.
Small steps turned into heavy steps broke into a steady run glided into a heart thumping sprint. He didn’t even care when his sunglasses flew off and clattered onto the floor.
Josh caught Drake in his arms and laughed.
As they kissed, wet and sloppy, muttering ‘I missed you’ and ‘Welcome home’ and ‘I love you,’ Drake was pretty sure nothing could be sweeter than a reunion with the love of his life.