HE TOOK OUR PANTS! Part 1 of 3

Author: the rubyone

Word Count: 4,116

Rated: T for Teen / PG implied slash only

Disclaimer: Drake and Josh SO not owned by me – too bad! I'd share!

Summary: Three part fiction that "fills in between the scenes" during the Season 4 episode Megan's First Kiss.

Spoilers: Details from the episode Megan's First Kiss and from the general Drake and Josh universe

Author's Note: Part 1 is set in the boys' bedroom, after Cory's visit, during the episode Megan's First Kiss.

HE TOOK OUR PANTS!

Part 1 of 3

Drake stood in just a red t-shirt, his boxers and socks and ranted to Josh, "I can't believe that Cory kid! What a little jerk! He took our pants!"

"I know," Josh replied, commiserating, and also just in his short-sleeved button-down shirt and blue underwear. "But we can't let Megan find out that we bargained with him to take her back. It would hurt her feelings too much."

"I'm not sure she has any feelings – other than evil ones," Drake muttered, still angry.

Josh moved up to his closet to find another pair of pants. "Come on, Dad said we had to restore the peace around here before Mom comes back from that week-long conference. I'd rather not get any more lectures from him about Megan," hunching his shoulders and making a face, as if retching, "'becoming a woman.'"

Drake sighed and concurred, "I don't want him using any more of my popsicles, either, for anything other than eating. It was bad enough that little devil Cory blackmailed us into giving up your clock and my guitar, but our pants, too?! I don't think he's going to grow into them."

"No, of course not," agreed Josh. "That was just his way of getting back at us, showing his dominance. He probably would have peed on us, if he thought he could get away with it."

"By the way, you snapped your teeth at me, when you were yelling at me to give him my guitar. What was THAT all about?" Drake asked, starting to bristle again.

"I didn't want to argue in front of him," replied Josh, slipping into his blue jeans. "And I wasn't yelling, not any more than you were, when you strongly urged me to give up that clock. I'll have you know that was a present from Mindy."

"You don't think I have any memories associated with my first acoustic guitar?!?!?" Drake answered, pacing and fuming.

"Don't stand there in your underwear, arguing about nothing. It just makes it more humiliating." Josh started to chuckle, "By the way, I don't believe I've seen you in that particular pair of gray plaid boxers before."

"Since I banned you from organizing my underwear drawer," Drake snorted, still trying to keep the upper hand, "you wouldn't have known about these. Aunt Libby gave me these for Christmas."

"Sentimental, are you?" Josh asked, teasingly.

"No," Drake said, in a huff. "I keep them for emergency use only."

Josh sat on his bed and folded his arms. "I thought I was the only one who's ever had an underwear emergency, when I got stuck in the tree, hanging by the elastic waistband."

Turning to face Josh on the level above him, Drake told him, "I know they're ugly, but they're big and baggy and soft. I've been breaking in that new pair of jeans all week, going commando."

"The jeans that look like they were painted on?" interjected Josh.

Drake came up the steps and shut the bedroom door, and then said in a hushed tone, "Yeah. I've developed a pretty bad case of . . . chafing."

Surprised, Josh answered, "I thought overweight people were the only ones familiar with the dreaded chafing."

Drake stepped over in front of Josh and lifted the inner edges of his boxers, revealing two patches of sore-looking red skin on his inner thighs. "It burns like fire."

Sympathetically, Josh responded, "Your special underwear is part of the solution. But you also need to put some petroleum jelly on it. It coats and soothes the skin while it's healing."

"Maybe so," agreed Drake, "but I refuse to touch that stuff. It feels too weird, like alien slime."

After a pause, Josh said, "Oh, I'll do it." He went to his nightstand and pulled a little rectangular-shaped jar from the top drawer. "You know I can't stand by and watch you suffer." Scooping some of the yellow substance into his right hand, he knelt and started to apply it gently to Drake's skin, after Drake pulled up the cloth to provide access and stood patiently looking at the ceiling.

As Drake winced under his touch, Josh kept talking to take Drake's mind off his pain. "Did you know that this stuff was discovered by accident when the first oil wells were drilled in Pennsylvania? It was called 'rod wax.'"

Drake laughed, "That sounds dirty!" He rotated his pelvis and asked, suggestively, "You want to put some on MY rod?"

Josh stood up and lightly pushed Drake away with his left hand. "Megan will be home any minute now. Besides," he continued, as he wiped his other hand off with tissues. "I need to go to the Premiere and pick up my paycheck. Do you want to come with?"

"I'd rather not be walking around right now. It hurts too much. I'll just hang out here and keep my remaining guitars safe from cocky middle school clowns," Drake answered, flopping onto the couch with a pout.

"Suit yourself. Dr. Nichols will check on your progress later," Josh said, pulling on his purple windbreaker and heading out the door.