A/N: What's that I hear...? NEW FANDOM TIME! I know, I have a new one like every week, but it's just that I love them all like they're my (weirdly sexual) children! Anyway, this one is a little weird. I tend to stay away from incest fics because honestly? They creep me out a little (apologies if I've just insulted someone's OTP by saying that). However, I was immediately captivated by this ship from the moment I read the first fanfiction. Seriously. I managed to rationalize this to myself by saying 'It doesn't count, they're stepbrothers', but whatever. Without further ado...

DISCLAIMER: If I owned Drake and Josh, they would be in a relationship by now, but they're not, so clearly, I don't own.

Drake woke up in the arms of his lover, his mouth parched and dry. He got up, trying not to wake the other up, and went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He leaned against the counter, the condensation from the cool glass dripping onto the floor, and sighed happily. How had he gotten so lucky? He had the life he'd always dreamed of. The perfect job, now that his music career had finally taken off, the perfect house, white picket fence and everything, the perfect life; and of course, the perfect person to share it with. Drake smiled, remembering how the last months of his life, the hottest summer in San Diego history, had changed everything.

He remembered the first weeks of summer. How they had blurred into indistinguishable days and nights, one fading into another. Days were spent sitting on the back patio with cool drinks and occasionally, the barbecue running, whilst the nights were spent lying on their backs in the garden, drunkenly pointing out constellations and talking about nothing, their arms barely touching in a half-hearted attempt to conserve body heat whilst they shivered at the cool night's breeze. The heat had really gotten to them. Nothing was crystal clear, and Drake couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that he had fallen in love with Josh, he just knew that it had happened by the end of those blisteringly hot weeks.

He remembered the first time he knew Josh was in love with him. It was halfway through the summer, and it was getting so hot that delirium was setting in. They spent most of their time at the community pool, keeping as cool as possible in the freezing water. When it shut on an evening, they would go back to the house they shared and crank up the AC as high as it would go, adding some fans and sitting on the couch watching re-runs of bad TV that they wouldn't care to remember the next day. One night, Josh blurted out that he loved Drake and immediately clasped a hand over his mouth, stammering muffled apologies. Drake just silenced him, reassuring him that it was okay, because he felt the same way.

He remembered the first kiss. It followed not long after their confessions. It was soft, yet powerful at the same time. Gentle, yet passionate. It was everything that Drake had hoped it would be and more. Josh's lips were heaven against his own, and their tongues fought a lazy battle for dominance. Drake found his fingers tangled in Josh's hair, attempting to pull him even closer than he thought humanely possible, while Josh's hands gripped Drake's waist. The kiss eventually ended, and Drake whimpered as he mourned the loss of those lips on his own. They looked deep into eachother's eyes and knew that nothing could make the moment more perfect than it already was.

He remembered the first time they'd had sex. About three weeks after the kiss, three perfect weeks later, they'd stumbled in drunk at 3am. Craig and Eric had invited them to the bar, and 6 hours later, they were trashed. The moment the door closed, Drake found himself slammed up against it, Josh's lips crashing against his own. They didn't even make it to the bedroom. Drake found himself inexplicably naked on the couch, but none of that mattered because Josh was inside him and oh god it felt so good. He never wanted it to end. There were no regrets the next morning. It didn't matter that they had been drunk or that Drake couldn't walk properly. To them, it was perfect.

He remembered the first time they'd made love. This was different, it wasn't just in the heat of the moment like the first time had been. This time, Josh had sent Drake to the store for a few trivial things. When he got back, the lights were dimmed, and there was a note on the mirror in the hall. 'Dining room'. He had walked in cautiously to find the lights off, candles lit and Josh sat at the table in a suit. He stood when Drake entered the room and pulled his chair back, kissing him softly. They had enjoyed a romantic meal together, and Josh had led Drake to their room afterwards, where they had made love. This wasn't just fucking, where it was lust and needy cries of harder, faster, deeper. This was slow and gentle, whispered 'I love you's and eachother's names at the height of their climaxes. This was true love.

He remembered the first fight. He couldn't even remember what it was over, but he knew that he was the one who had done something wrong. They'd screamed at eachother for what'd felt like hours. Josh had thrown a vase at Drake, which had narrowly missed his head and had shattered against the wall, then stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Drake had gone to bed alone that night. Hours later, Josh had returned, and instead of going to their bedroom, had gone to his old bedroom. Drake had been unable to sleep at the sound of Josh's sobs piercing through the wall. He had slid into Josh's bed and held him, murmuring apologies into his hair whilst he had sobbed into Drake's shoulder, fisting his shirt. They hadn't fought since.

Drake finished his water and sighed happily once more. The past summer had been the best of his life, and he has loathed the arrival of September. Not much had changed, with the change of season, though; Josh had started his third year at Yale, so they couldn't spend the days the way they used to. Drake used the added amount of extra time to work on his music career. And when Josh came home from his classes, they'd snuggle up on the couch and watch re-runs of bad TV that they wouldn't care to remember in the morning. The nights stayed the same as they had done, filled with love and lust and passion. Drake knew that this was perfection. He padded back to their bedroom and slipped back into bed with Josh, who stirred.

"Everything okay, babe?" He mumbled groggily, putting his arms back around Drake. Drake just smiled.

"Everything's perfect."