Title: Huh
Author: GatorGrrrl
Fandom: Drake & Josh
Pairing: Drake/Josh (but only in Drake's head)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,001
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. No profit being made, no offense intended.
Spoilers: None
Notes/Warnings: me trying to think like Drake Parker; oh, and there are a couple hells
Summary: Drake has an epiphany (not that he knows what that is).
A/N: This is my Drake & Josh Drake/Josh contribution to the inaugural "Finish It All Off" ficathon over on LJ. The mods supply the first paragraph (in bold), we supply the rest. Enjoy!
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Huh
They're brothers, maybe from another mother, but it's all the same—brothers is what they've become. So, if Drake looks, watches Josh grow up, and he starts wanting, well, that's cool, that's fine—hell, that's awesome. It doesn't mean anything, just means that they spend a little too much time together and Drake's gotten too comfortable with Josh and all that is just hormones. Hormones that are a little gay, and slightly incestuous, maybe, but hormones all the same.
So really, when he thinks about it that way, it's not weird at all that he just happens to always pick the exact time Josh is taking a shower to brush his teeth so that he can try to peek through the crack in the shower curtain. Or that his hand just happens to sort of almost grab Josh's butt when they're wrestling for the remote. Or that when he sees whipped cream or peanut butter or Fudgy Boo batter or whatever clinging to the corner of Josh's mouth, he wants to lean in and lick it off instead of just telling Josh about it. Or that when Josh comes home after his run, all hot and sweaty, and starts peeling off his clothes, Drake has the sudden need to lock himself in the bathroom. Or that—
Oh, hell. Who is he kidding?
He wants Josh. Like seriously wants him. Like really seriously wants him, wants him. In his bed, naked under his hands, sucking on his tongue like it's a Warhead.
Frankly, it's sort of freaking him out.
It shouldn't. Not really. It's just hormones, right? Only…it's like hormones on steroids. Hormones amped up all the way to max. It's like one hormone ate all the other hormones and became one giant hormone that has taken over Drake's body.
He should call himself the hormone formerly known as Drake Parker. His symbol could be a giant sperm or something (he's not really sure what hormones look like).
Only it has to be more than that. It has to be. 'Cause Drake's had hormones for a while now and they've never been like this. Sure, he's lusted. He's even had one or two (or six) times. But it's never been so all-consuming, so…seewantneedmusthave. He laughs at Josh's jokes, which…really? Josh's jokes aren't that funny. He claps at Josh's magic tricks even when instead of a rabbit, Josh pulls air out of the hat. He watches marathons of Herbs and Spices: The Same or Different? on the Fruit & Vegetable channel even though there's a marathon of Really Old Rock Stars Looking for Love on at the same time. Worst of all, he lets Josh win at Guitar God just to see him smile.
Drake? Is officially pathetic.
He's not sure when it happened, really. One day, Josh moves in with his puppy dog grin and his bear hugs and his Dear Miss Nancy dress; the next, Drake's pretty sure he would wear a dress if Josh asked him to.
He really doesn't understand it. He keeps trying to figure it out. He lays awake at night, listening to Josh snore (and no, it's not cute), trying to figure out what's so different about Josh. Okay, so he's gotten taller. And he's lost weight. And maybe he's gotten a little cooler (thanks to Drake). But even Drake isn't that shallow. He needs more than a pretty face. (Alright, so maybe he is that shallow, but this is Josh, for crying out loud.) Besides, Josh isn't pretty. (Well, maybe a little.) He's just Josh. Goofy, nerdy, clumsy, klutzy Josh. Who has lips that Drake thinks would be perfect for sucking a hickey into his collarbone.
It's all his mom's fault, really. She's the one who just had to say yes when Walter the Weatherman asked her out. Weathermen. What was so great about them, anyway? All they did was stand in front of a camera pointing at a green wall and telling everyone what was obvious if they just poked their head out the window. If only his mom had a different kink, for like, say…plumbers. Then maybe she would have married Pete the Plumber instead of Walter the Weatherman. Drake bets Pete the Plumber doesn't have a son named Josh Nichols. Pete the Plumber probably has a hot daughter named Jessica with pink lips and nimble fingers and a tattoo her dad doesn't know about.
Ah, Jessica. She'd ooh and ahh over his guitar pick collection and walk around without a bra and laugh at his clever jokes about "snaking" her "drain" and "screwing" her "pipes" (wink, wink).
But, no. Mom had to marry Walter. And now, four years later, Drake is having a crisis. A hormonal crisis of im—, im—, really big proportions. Because no matter how you look at it (and he's looked at it a lot), it is not okay to look at your stepbrother and want to unwrap him like a present. To want to lick a line from his head to his feet just to see what he tastes like. To want to climb him like a tree and map the contours of his teeth with your tongue.
No, none of those things are okay. But Drake's pretty much completely sure he'd be totally okay with any one (or all) of those things actually happening.
Not that they're going to. Not with The Creature around, staking her claim on Josh like he's an undiscovered island or something. She should just pee on him and get it over with and ew, Drake just grossed himself out.
Josh is in love and it makes Drake want to hurl. Preferably on Mindy.
And it's really starting to get on his nerves, too. If he has to listen to Josh talk one more time about how pretty Mindy is, how smart she is, how he can't help but laugh at her jokes and touch her hair and stare at the way her lips move when she talks and—
Oh.
Huh.
The End
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