Walking into the bedroom he shared with Drake, Josh was met with an unexpected sight – Drake curled up sound asleep on his bed, though it wasn't really his bed anymore since he and Drake usually shared it. He was shocked at first, but it soon faded into anger. He and Drake hadn't talked in a good three days – they'd been avoiding each other as much as possible – but he thought it would be acceptable to sleep in his bed? No, that wasn't okay.
What Josh didn't know was that Drake had fallen asleep in his bed after crying. After inhaling Josh's scent from Mr. Puff-Puff and crying about how colossal his fuck up was this time. He fucked up quite consistently, but this might have been the dumbest thing he'd done to date. He had a number one single across the country now – something all his childhood dreams were made of had finally become reality. So, maybe in the midst of his newfound fame he missed a few Bad Movie Tuesdays or he missed double date night with Craig and Eric or he forgot that he and Josh made dinner reservations. Wasn't that expected now? Now that he was becoming famous?
"Look, Josh, I'm sorry!" Drake said, following Josh into their bedroom and watching as Josh turned around, green eyes filled with pain.
"That's all you ever say lately, Drake," Josh replied, throwing his hands in the air angrily. "You're always saying sorry."
He had realized that he was apologizing a lot more lately, but it had never occurred to him that a little piece of Josh was being chipped away with each "I'm sorry" he said. He never realized hurt had started to live in Josh's eyes. He never realized that Josh preferred it when he wasn't famous, when he was his. He never realized how much he had changed, how much his priorities were seemingly much different with each passing day. "Josh, I had a chance to hang out with Ethan LaRousche!"
"And you think he'll be there for you when your fame comes crashing down?" Josh looked at him completely stone faced.
"What?"
"How do you know your fame will last? How do you know you're not going to be the popstar flavor of the week? How, Drake? Do you know you're gonna be famous forever?"
Drake went to speak but quickly stopped himself. He hadn't thought that far ahead; the prospect of everything crashing down was daunting. It wasn't something he was ready to deal with because he had spent his entire life telling himself that he was the next Paul McCartney, the next big thing, the next critically acclaimed songwriter, the next Grammy winner. Thinking of it all falling at his feet was the scariest realization he hadn't yet thought of. "I…"
"You haven't even thought about it," Josh cut in before he could continue. "You haven't even taken a moment to think about what would happen if all of this was taken from you because you're too busy enjoying your celebrity parties with your celebrity friends at those big mansions…"
"Are you jealous? You're jealous of me, aren't you? Just admit it. You can't be happy for me because you want to be me," Drake said viciously, crossing his arms over his chest.
"JEALOUS?" Josh sputtered, taking a few steps back with his mouth agape.
Drake knew he'd just hurt him, but he wasn't about to back down. "Of course you're jealous of me. I'm out living the dream and hanging out with stars while you're writing essays and studying forks!"
"Forensics! Jesus Christ, you think I'm fucking jealous of you, Drake?" Josh shook his head, and Drake saw tears threatening to well in his eyes. "Then the fame really has gone to your head, and you're even more delusional than I previously thought."
"Then if you're not jealous, why are you so mad? Clearly you're jealous, Josh! Just admit it!"
"I'm not fucking jealous of you!" Josh yelled defensively. "All you've done for the past three weeks is blow me off. You blow me off and you blow off all our friends and you blow off Megan and you blow off Mom and Dad. You blow off the people who are gonna be there if you fall. Sure, maybe you're hanging with Devin Malone now, but you think when your single isn't number one any more he'll give you the time of day? Fucking no, Drake, fucking no, but you're too blind to see that because apparently, you're running around thinking everyone is jealous of you and should kiss the ground you walk on. Newsflash, Parker, it can't be this easy forever, and it WON'T be this easy forever. You can't throw away everyone who loved you and supported you when you were nothing because if you do that, you'll have nothing. And you're already on your way there. So, the next time something goes wrong, why don't you call fucking Ethan LaRousche instead of me because I'm sure that, since you're such good friends with him now, he'll be able to help you with all your problems."
"I don't fucking need you," Drake replied darkly, instantly regretting that choice of words and feeling a muscle in his jaw twinge.
"Good, cause you sure as hell don't deserve me."
Before Drake could retaliate, he heard the door slam. He hadn't even seen Josh walk out; all he could think of was the fact that his world had just walked out the door, and yes, he most definitely did fucking need Josh.
"Drake, get out of my bed," Josh said harshly, shaking Drake's shoulder. He only felt a little bit guilty that he was disturbing the peaceful scene; Drake looked so beautiful when he was sound asleep. He didn't stir. "DRAKE!"
He shifted slightly, letting out a little moan before opening his eyes. "Josh, I…"
"Get out of my bed. You don't even fucking talk to me for days but think it's okay to sleep here? No." He never once thought Drake could be feeling remorse.
Drake sighed and complied, getting up quickly and stretching out. He stood for a moment and looked at Josh wordlessly.
"What? Take a picture. It'll last longer."
"I'm sorry."
"You've said that so many times now," Josh said, not bothering to look at Drake as he hung up his jacket.
Drake let out a sigh, knowing he sounded like a broken record. He headed toward Josh and grabbed his arm lightly. "I do need you."
Josh's look softened a little as he shook his arm out of Drake's grip. "You told me you didn't. I can live my life without you, and I proved that a few years ago. Go off and be a rockstar, Drake. Live the dream, but make damn sure you don't call me if you crash." He walked over to his desk, sitting down and picking up a book. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Drake visibly shrink.
Drake let out a whimper that caused Josh to look over at him. "I really do need you. I'm sorry for what I said."
"Too little, too late."
"Sorry, Josh. I guess I'll just go now." Drake sighed, before giving Josh one last look and heading toward the door. "I'm a major fuck up like always."
Josh was surprised at his willingness to go and called, "wait," seeing Drake's hand stop on the doorknob. "I'm listening."
Drake flicked his head toward the couch, watching as Josh shifted to the sofa. He sat down and looked in Josh's eyes, still full of hurt. "Of course I need you. The reason I was in your bed? I was crying, man, because I can't take life without you. I thought you knew that after our falling out in high school. Of course I can go to all these parties, but I don't want it if I don't have you. Nothing's worth anything if I don't have you…you're worth more than Devin Malone and Ethan LaRousche and Ashley Blake, and I just…"
He looked like he was going to break right then and there as he took a shaky breath and his lip quivered. Josh couldn't take watching him cry, so he pulled Drake into his arms, rubbing his back gently. There was a long pause before Josh finally said, "Okay."
"Okay?" Drake asked, and his voice was small, needy.
Josh nodded, planting a kiss on Drake's soft, auburn hair. "Okay."
"I love you, Joshie," Drake whispered. "Don't leave me."
"I love you, too. Don't find some hot rockstar and replace me," Josh told him, absently stroking his fingers through Drake's hair.
Drake looked up at him with a grin, kissing him softly on the lips. "Never."