Just a little drabble about cigarettes and how much Josh cares.
The first time Josh ever sees Drake place a cigarette between his teeth and light it with the same kind of expertise he handles his guitar with, he doesn't say anything. He thinks maybe Drake was just trying it out, and that this would be a phase. Like the spud launcher. Or the golf phase- maybe this time, instead of some weird toy, he was exhausting his need to try cigarettes.
He ignored how when he was close to Drake, he could sometimes catch a whiff of smoke mingled in with his spicy cologne and Josh's orange shampoo.
About two months later, he catches him again. And this time? He isn't quite as cool as he was before. Actually, he is the opposite of cool.
He nearly burns his hands when he snatches the cigarette away from his brother. Then he throws it on the ground and stomps it out a little more violently than necessary.
Drake isn't all that happy. "What'd you do that for?!"
"Dude, you're smoking like a fricking chain smoker."
"C'mon, Josh- what do you care?"
That freezes Josh more than just a little bit. "People die from smoking. Do you understand that? They die horrible, painful deaths because they smoked their stupid cigarettes. It can kill you."
Drake rolls his eyes. "Don't be so over-dramatic." He pulls out another cigarette and begins to light it, but Josh just snatches it away again.
"You're not comitting socially acceptable suicide. Not on my watch."
His brother glares at him. "Would it be socially acceptable if I murdered you so I could have my fucking cigarette?"
Josh sighs. "I can help you quit."
Twenty minutes later, they're at Wallgreens, and Josh's paycheck is sucked dry for nicoteine patches and gum.