Okay, alright, first up: I AM SO SORRY. I said I would write this in fricken MARCH okay? And it took me this long. THIS LONG. (that'swhatshesaid-dies-)

Anyway, this is for Miss Captcha, who asked so nicely for this so long ago and waited so patiently and is such a sweetie and leaves such nice reviews on EVERYTHING and you're my favorite reviewer for that, and I'm SO SORRY this took so long. ;A;

Here it is, though. I tried to give it the general feel of the show, like no cussing. It also kind of challenges me to write a story with no cussing, because I've gotten so bad with that. I try to do better, though. And it kind of skips points of view, you can just ignore that. So anyway I was thinking about what I was gonna do for this and I watched the show because it's so amazing and on my list of all-time favorites and I was like MAN THEY'RE SO GAY I LOVE IT and then Life came on Discovery for the first time and it was all "OPRAH" and I was like "OH MAN I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING" which stemmed this. I kind of like it. I didn't want to write an actual sex scene, because it would take too long and it was taking too long already and I have tons of other sex scenes already and I thought it might kind of ruin it so I just wrote that and it kind of worked. And I like how it turned out. Even though the ending is cliche and boring but you know I like those kind of endings so up yours, guys. Please leave a nice review at the end (or a horribly degrading one, whichever) and tell me what you thought of it. Reviews seriously make it worth writing; they spur me on. Really, if I get no reviews I don't feel the story is worth finishing, so leaving a review is kind of a win-win situation for both of us. :/

Ugh, more really long note. Sorry to those of you who read it. Without further ado, HEREWEGO DRKNJSHYAY


"Hey, Drake; could you toss me the remote?" Josh called out as he shut the door to their room, throwing his jacket onto his bed.

"Uh, no." Josh stopped at the response he received and turned to face his brother, that frustration he always got around Drake beginning to stir.

"Why not?" he asked, trying to keep cool-headed. He didn't want to waste any time with this, he had to get to his show.

"Dude." Drake turned around on the couch to give Josh one of those looks, like he had just once again done something incredibly stupid. Well, he would be one to talk. "That gig me and my band had the other day? It's on." Wait, what's on? Like...

Oh. The T.V. That stupid thing... Oh, right. He remembers now. And it was on tonight? Sunday night? Josh was sure Drake had said Saturday night. He laughed a little, the kind of laugh that said, "Oh, you're ridiculous, stop it right now."

"I thought you said that was on last night."

"Oh, it was. I couldn't watch it, though; I had a date with Becca." Oh no. No. That was just like him, just exactly what he would do. Screw up Josh's programs because he had to go on some date with a girl he barely even knew and was most likely going to break up within the next few days? No, sorry, not gonna happen.

"Can't you just watch that online or something?" he pleaded, beginning to get anxious, glancing over at the clock. It was 8:02. Eight-oh-two. He was supposed to be on two minutes ago. He was missing it.

"No," came Drake's predictable response. Josh was over at the side of the couch by now, fingers working mercilessly at the old fabric of the couch's arm. "Just go watch whatever you're so desperate to watch in the livingroom."

"But I can't," Josh whined in distress. "Megan's in there."

Well, Drake had no objection to that. She was freaking scary. Josh waited in apprehension for an answer.

"Tough luck." The frustration welled inside him and he started arguing angrily.

"Drake, come on- you should have watched this last night if it was so important to you, and mine wasn't on last night, and now it is, and you're just- you- Give me the remote!" All rational thought left him when he glanced over at the clock again in the middle of his speech and saw that it was now 8:05, and he leapt over the armrest towards Drake because he was not going to miss this on account of his brother's idiocy.

Drake kind of shrieked when Josh launched at him, yelling at him to calm down, he was here first, blah blah blah- Josh wasn't listening; the only thing he could hear was the blood rushing past his ears as he grabbed for the remote now clutched in Drake's right hand at an arm's length above his head.

Too bad Josh was taller.

In no time he had stolen the remote and was changing the channel to his, while Drake was squirming around underneath him as he tried to break free from his imprisonment, squabbling at him to give the remote back now, or he swore to god, he'd-

He fell into an incredulous stupor when Josh finally got to the channel he needed, his last half of a word still hanging stuttering off his lips. The voice on the T.V. was instantly recognizable to Drake, and he began spluttering in dismay after recovering.

"Oprah?" he broke out. "You're blowing off something important because of Oprah?"

"Shut up," Josh commanded fiercely, focused intently on the screen. "And it's not Oprah, it's Life." He left it at that, as if it explained everything.

It didn't.

"What the- Life?" That sounded so gay. And so extremely unimportant. "What's Life?"

What's Life? Only the best thing ever. "Dude. It's like, biology and Oprah combined. The two best things in the world in one. It's-"

"It's frickin' gay, is what it is!" Drake interrupted fiercely. "Change it back to my show now!" Ignoring Josh's cry of indignance, he tried for the remote again, lunging up and clenching his fingers around nothing as Josh just freaking dropped it behind the couch.

There was a moment of silence where nothing happened and everything just stopped and a look passed between them and then it was Drake clambering desperately over the back of the couch and Josh pulling on his shirt to keep him down. Drake gasped for breath as the neck of his shirt cut off his airways and grasped at Josh's hands, though still continuing in his attempts to get to the T.V. remote. Josh grabbed onto Drake's shoulders and pulled him forcefully back down, getting in his face with that intense look that told him to knock the frick off before he shoved a fist up his nose. Speaking of noses, Josh's was right up against Drake's. It was then that Drake started to get just a little too uncomfortable. He swallowed and furrowed his eyebrows, matching Josh's glare, rolling his eyes when Josh's tongue poked his cheek out in that stupid pout he did sometimes. Oh god, Josh is angry, better take cover.

"Josh," Drake started in exasperation, getting ready to tell him off for being so stupid and immature.

"I'm missing," Josh hissed, "my show."

Woah.

His eyes were intense and he was so serious about this and Drake was beginning to fall on the defensive which he didn't like but he really had no control over it because Josh was freaking mad and truthfully, it was kind of scary. And you know what, that made Drake kind of angry. Who gave Josh the right to be intimidating? Josh- intimidating? Over an Oprah Winfrey biology show? No.

"And I'm missing mine." He gave a little self-satisfied smirk. "So whatcha gonna do?"

Well, that exploded into a flurry of slapping and hitting each other as many times as possible, Josh having roared and launched himself at Drake for the second time that night. Drake would have been scared they were going to fall off the couch if he weren't so intent on getting the upper hand over Josh. Winning was the goal here, and he was going to claim the victory, as he always did.

He wasn't entirely sure, however, when exactly their furious smacking had turned into furious making out. If he thought about it, it was definitely most likely probably an accident in which Josh had unintentionally smashed his face forward into Drake's, connecting their lips, and now the movement they were simultaneously creating was really them yelling at each other. Against each other. In a way that just happened to feel like making out. Which actually felt kind of good.

That being said, now instead of hitting and slapping each other, their hands were smoothing themselves over skin and obstructive barriers of clothing and raking fingers violently though hair and practically tearing shirts and pants until they were both certain that their clothes were riddled with holes, like a sponge or Swiss cheese. It was a fervid heat that began to overtake Drake, and all he explained it as was the heat escaping from Josh's hot air balloon head.

Now it was evolving into a chaotic thrusting of hips and desperate creating of friction, using one another for that purpose, each jerk and clash against them a provocation for return, revenge. It was almost like fighting, but it felt really, really good. Which scared Drake, but you know, that was actually okay this time. All he was really thinking about anyway was that he kind of really wanted Josh more in a spot closer to- yeah, right there.

Now they were both breathing heavily, neither from the rush of adrenaline or frustration or even exertion, but more likely something closer to want or maybe even arousal. Josh seemed to be all for it, but Drake felt hesitance tugging at he corners of his thought. This kind of thing was the stuff he reserved for girls, strictly. He'd never done anything with a guy, ever, and now this, especially with his stepbrother. That was pretty nerve-racking, if anyone were to ask him.

The thing was, though, that Josh rubbing up against him in that way with that face was something Drake had never before seen and truthfully, it succeeded in stirring around the inside of the pit of his stomach, waking something deep within him. It called for Josh, yearned for him, finally let out of the box it had been so cruelly kept in for so long. This was all so much for him to take in, so instead of dwelling upon it he took hold of the stirring and shoved his tongue violently though Josh's lips, probing and confronting the other like they were born to contend. Josh lashed back and tightened his stranglehold on Drake's shoulders, tilting forward and pressing closer.

From there it evolved into something much more, so much that it blurred at the edges and skipped around places Drake couldn't piece together. He got flashes of progression, like he was deep underwater and trying to breathe, and everything was disorientating. He was kissing Josh, their tongues colliding in a way that sucked the breath from his lungs. He was slipping out of his shirt, trying to get rid of the unbearable fervid heat. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, legs spread wide as Josh worked his trademark magic over him, sucking him off like he was born to do it. He was shifting against Josh, keeping as close to him as possible to create more of that burning, incredible friction. He was staring down at Josh's flushed face, the expression of passion and pain slapped across his face as Drake moved inside of him, rhythmic thrusts that each brought their own shard of heaven crashing down on him. Whispers uttered long minutes ago were ghosting through his ears, through his memory, processing and only adding to the everything swimming in Drake's vision.

"What are you doing?"

Josh exhaled slowly, shakily, mirroring Drake's slowly dissipating fear.

"Just getting the T.V. remote."

When Drake finally stopped, when he finally stopped running, when he finally decided to take a breather, his thoughts and feelings and everything else caught up to him and slammed into his being with full force.

He almost fell off the couch.

"Josh?" he murmured, his voice hoarse, the mixed cries of passion still ringing against his eardrums. It felt like he was just waking up, pulling himself laboriously out of the quicksand he'd been sleeping in. Everything was cloudy, and he could swear he'd just slept for three hours instead of had sex with Josh.

"Shh." It was soft, gentle, relaxed or at least resting. Not hard and curt like he was used to. Drake could vaguely hear a female voice floating into his hearing and slowly realized it must have been the T.V. Josh's show was still on. Somehow it no longer seemed so gay that Josh wanted to watch an Oprah Winfrey biology show.

He was wrapped up in the arms of someone warm, someone soft, and someone not female. Drake could live with that.