Author: therubyone
Summary: Josh and Drake are grounded again, but the boys enjoy spending time together. Josh has planned a secret special evening on the town, can they get back without detection?
Disclaimer: No profit made nor sought by me: the show and its characters are owned by large and powerful corporations that I hope will not squash me like a bug.
Rating: M for Mature – contents include het, slash and drug use, so turn away if it will not be to your liking!
Spoilers: Action set in the general D/J universe soon after the events shown in the episode Steered Straight.
Teaser: "We're horny teenage boys, after all"
Ch 6 of 6
PLEASE PLEASE ME
Chapter 6 Sun Arise.
"No," admitted Josh. "I was hoping, in the back of my mind, that the 'relations' would just naturally stop as we go our separate ways in life, when we leave home and become adults. But returning to your List. It seems like we are at it more and more with every passing day."
"True that," agreed Drake, wholeheartedly. "Megan is definitely beginning to suspect something out of the ordinary."
Josh, concerned, said, "You better delete that particular list then, or she's going to find it. Plus, have you considered what this revelation would do to our parents?"
"Obviously," answered Drake. "That's why we're being so cautious, to keep it a secret."
Josh finally arrived at the point he had been trying to make. "A secret that nearly got put right out into the open tonight, Drake! I'm not a genius at statistics, but when you get me all hot and bothered, and I can't say no, that's usually the last thought on my mind, about getting caught. I just can't seem to resist. The more we carry on, the more likely it is that disaster is going to strike."
"I hear what you're saying," agreed Drake, trying to placate Josh. "I'm the same: I can't get enough of you. We're horny teenage boys, after all. The fact that we care about each other and are together so much of the time just makes it more intense."
Backing up in his thoughts, Josh put his arm around Drake's shoulders. "I certainly didn't mean to imply that I don't care about you."
"I know you love me. I love you, too. Just saying it makes me want to show you how much," said Drake, wrapping his arms around Josh.
"Then don't say it," Josh said, as he pulled away. "It scares me how close we came to crossing yet another line tonight. If that repair guy had come any later . . ."
Drake, refusing to be put off, finished the sentence with, "WE'D have come by then, ha ha! I think you're worrying too much. It would have been an orgy, dude. Nobody would be the wiser. Those girls wouldn't tell. They've got their own deal going, right?"
"I suppose there's some truth in what you're saying," Josh replied, relaxing a little.
"Look, you're very tired," Drake said, trying to console Josh. "Besides, we're crashing hard after a very hectic night. You're a natural-born worrier to start with. I think you're being paranoid for nothing," Drake continued, as he rubbed the area between Josh's shoulder blades. "You don't want your rash to come back, do you? Let's go inside now," he said, taking Josh by the hand. "The sun's coming up."
Protesting, Josh replied, "But we haven't resolved anything."
Standing, Drake answered back, "We've got another week of being grounded. Plenty of time to talk about it."
Josh, sulking, but also standing up, said, "As long as we actually do get around to talking about it . . ."
Just then, the boys heard the sound of a door opening. They dropped their hands to their sides and stared, frozen in place, as Walter Nichols stepped outside, wearing his blue bathrobe and comfy slippers, holding a cup of coffee in one hand, with a folded newspaper tucked under his arm.
"You boys are up early!" Walter greeted them cheerfully, not seeming at all surprised to find his two teenaged sons fully dressed, at sunrise, standing in the back yard as if waiting for him. "I guess you're getting bored being cooped up like chickens. I hope this is giving you plenty of time to reflect on your recent behavior," Walter continued, with the joviality of a man who was completely satisfied with his life.
Drake and Josh traded looks that spoke a thousand words.
"Yes, sir, it certainly is," answered Josh, straight-faced, without a trace of irony.
Drake, in his best effort to sound casual, interjected, "Is Mom up yet?"
Walter shook his head. "No. This is her chance to sleep in. So don't go waking her up. We can manage on our own for a few hours. Since you're already up and dressed and ready to face the day, I've made up a list of chores for you to do around here."
The boys moaned and groaned. They were so relieved that Audrey was still in bed, since she would have been onto them in a heartbeat, seeing them in their dating finery, outside the house at sunrise, and smelling of smoke. If they hadn't moaned and groaned about the chores, Walter would have gotten suspicious, but beyond that he appeared to accept everything at face value.
"We didn't know you would have chores waiting for us, Dad. We need to change into different clothes first," explained Josh.
"Can it wait until we've had breakfast?" asked Drake, always willing to make time for a meal.
Walter waved them inside and sat down at the table on the deck with his coffee and the morning newspaper. In the kitchen, Drake poured two cups of coffee, as Josh leaned tiredly against the kitchen's work island and cooktop, rubbing his eyes with his right hand. Drake put three heaping teaspoons of white sugar in one cup and a spoonful of Sug-ahh! (a low calorie sugar derivative) in the other cup, poured in generous amounts of milk in both, stirred, and then handed the second cup to Josh, who accepted it gratefully.
"I don't know how I'm going to get through this. I'm exhausted," whined Josh.
"Go take a shower; that will perk you up. I'll keep Walter occupied," Drake offered. "You're not working at the Premiere today, are you?"
"No," yawned Josh. "But at least I could try and catch a nap on the roof there, or in the projection booth, if Horatio's in a good mood." He shuffled wearily up the stairs.
Drake took his coffee and went back out onto the deck. "Hey, Dad." He slid into a chair at the same table as Walter, who responded to the word "Dad" like an interested dog at the promise of a chew toy. "I wanted to ask you – you're still into jazz, right?"
"Absolutely," he replied, smiling benevolently at Drake.
"I was wondering if you'd mind letting me borrow some of your CD's. I've developed an interest in jazz lately, and I think it could be a useful influence on my own music," Drake told him.
"You've come to the right person, son," Walter said, relishing a non-disciplinary paternal moment with his eldest stepchild. "Let's go inside," he said, rising from his seat, patting Drake's shoulder affectionately, "and have a look at my collection. It's in my study."
Walter's 'study' was the downstairs guest bedroom, which he had slowly converted into his own personal space. It contained his train set, which traversed a miniature landscape all its own, going all the way around the room. There was a day bed, a desk in one corner and some shelving over it, holding a shortwave radio, police radio, weather radio, CB set, miniature television, combination CD/tape player, some youthful mementos and awards, and around 70 compact discs, every one of them jazz.
"The interesting thing is that I've got it arranged by both decade and style, a system I created myself," Walter said proudly, pleased that Drake had come to him for guidance. "If there's anything you want to know about jazz, just ask."
"I don't know that much about it, except that it seems to go great with onion rings," Drake answered, not wanting to get too committed, hearing with one ear that the upstairs shower had just been turned off.
"Indeed! I've had some wonderful times in jazz nightclubs over the years. In fact, that's the first place I took your mother on a date," Walter recalled with fondness.
Drake knew that his mother was not even remotely a jazz enthusiast and still found it hard to believe that she and Walter ever got past that first date.
Drake was winging it. "I'll just take two or three to start with. I don't want anything experimental, you know, that sounds like elephants being tortured... Or anything that is like it's from a silent movie. I like percussion. And horns."
Walter pointed to one section and made a few suggestions. "I think I smell the sausage burning. I'll just leave you to browse."
Not wanting to disorganize Walter's elaborate filing system, Drake went to the desk to find a few index cards to mark the places where he was pulling CD's. He opened a drawer, and to his astonishment, next to a half-pint of Scotch whiskey, he saw a 50-count cigar box. The label read Phillies Blunts. He opened the box and there were just three little cigars left. He took one out, carefully, and put it right up to his nose and inhaled. He instantly recognized the smell of reefer mixed in with the tobacco. He quickly returned it to its place and slammed the drawer shut.
He stood up and shouted, "JOSH !" He ran upstairs, CD's temporarily forgotten. Their bedroom was empty. Hurriedly, Drake changed his clothes. Then he stopped at the computer. With fingers flying, he logged onto his user, opened a file entitled MY LISTS. At the folder called "J," he clicked twice. He typed quickly. "5-star all-nighter at home Fri. On Sat. got J to admit my BJ better than R5 . . . then he showered me w/ candy & pleasured me, listening to the Beatles, 4 stars . . ." He selected Save instead of Delete. He went online and uploaded that particular list to an internet location that he locked from any but his personal viewing. Concentrating hard, he then changed his user password. First he typed in "IHARTJ" then backspaced. No. He heard the bathroom door opening and footsteps in the hall. "JOSHLUVR" he typed. He thought to himself, "That's it." Just as Josh entered the bedroom, he spun around and again shouted, "JOSH!"
For once, Josh didn't fall over backwards or hit his head on the door hinge. He did drop the towel he was using to dry his hair. He had a long beach towel around his hips, knotted at the side. He was freshly shaven, smelled of soap, shampoo and deodorant and his skin was almost translucent. Drake's eyes gravitated towards Josh's navel and the dark happiness trail that started from there and led straight down.
"What is it? What's wrong?" demanded Josh.
Drake immediately collected his thoughts from the direction they'd been straying. "Are you ready for this? Dad has three BLUNTS in his desk drawer."
"Like the ones the girls had?" asked Josh, thinking perhaps his father was not such a dufus after all, and had maybe cut them the biggest break of their lives upon discovering them in the yard.
"Exactly! Do you think we should take them or just use the knowledge to blackmail him?" asked Drake.
"It was your discovery. I'll let you decide what you want to do. I am recommending that you just leave it alone. Fate was kind to us these past eight hours." Josh came down to the computer to stand beside Drake. "Everything could have unraveled down there under the lemon tree, if Dad wasn't the simple, trusting man that he is." Josh kissed Drake on the top of his head. "The kind of man I might have been if you hadn't corrupted me." He laughed softly.
Drake added, "Yes, it's a miracle that Mom was not on the scene to strike us dead with lightning bolts from her eyes."
"SO dead! Yes!" agreed Josh.
"Ooh, I left those jazz CD's down there. Meet me in the kitchen when you're dressed." Drake dashed out of the bedroom.
After Drake's exit, Josh turned to the computer. He needed to change his password. He and Drake had been playing at this game for months. He thought for a minute and then a slow smile formed on his lips. He typed in the new password "CANDYMAN." He thought to himself, "That shouldn't give him any trouble."
Then he went to a certain file entitled COOKING WITH SUGAR, opened it and entered, "Drake rocked me after work! What a talented boy! But he only thinks his BJ better than Register 5. Went on double date I planned. Only a few minor snags. Then things got steamy, as in 'love in an elevator.' The lights went out & R5 was all over me in the darkness, after she got worked up kissing her best friend . . ." Josh tried to make the description as triple-xxx sounding as possible, so it would give Drake fits when he read it. He uploaded some pictures he'd taken last night with his cell phone camera. "Good times," he thought to himself, and knew there would most definitely be good times ahead.
THE LIVING END?