Title: So Simple Now
Author name: jannika
Fandom: Drake and Josh RPF
Pairing: Drake Bell/Josh Peck. With Michael Seater, Ashley Leggat, Jerry Trainor, Miranda Cosgrove, and a few others.
Rating: R
Word count: 15,000
Warnings/Spoilers: Sex, swearing, angst, drinking,
Disclaimer: Meticulously, neurotically researched, except for all those parts I completely made up. Nothing is even a little mine.
Summary: Sometimes, Drake wishes he and Josh could just be, but it’s not that simple and he knows it. The show is over, but growing up and moving on are impossible when they’re so tangled in each other. Misunderstandings, some serious communication failures, sex, and lots and lots of coffee.
Author’s Note/Thank Yous: &hearts For the rpf_big_bang. ♥


This fic would not be possible without several people. Huge Thank yous to: ♥ folkloric_feel for holding my hand and assuring me it wasn’t the worst thing ever, ♥ katnap414 for reading it over and being so excited and encouraging about every new section and ♥ malzadoll for reading it over and pointing out my ridiculous typos, and also for being awesome, I love you all.


Oh, and to everyone who has ever humored my crazy theory that Mike and Drake are friends. (Seriously, I've been talking about this for like, two and half years now.)

And look! Pretty art by hanachan01 ♥ Art!



The first time I saw you.

Drake brings his guitar to every audition. People keep smirking at him and trying to talk him out of it, but he doesn't care, it's important. It's part of him, and he just feels better having it close, feels like it helps, even if the audition is for some bit part, a couple lines and no music at all. He keeps hoping it will do more than help, he dreams about it actually getting him a part, about being able to play, about someone caring more about all those lessons with Roger Daltrey on the Chasing Destiny set, then about that time he'd given the middle finger to Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire. Most people don't want hear about it, but he keeps hoping, keeps telling everyone who will listen about how he's going to be a rock star someday. People keep telling him it won't work; keep telling him to just use the fact that he's a cute kid, to just keep smiling and working as much as possible before it all fades.

He doesn't believe them. Doesn't listen at all. He's going to be huge. Going to be a rock star. He can feel it. So he writes songs and he goes to auditions because acting is really fun, and he's good at it, and he gets to meet all sorts of cool people and he daydreams about being able to combine them, about what it will be like when he's famous. It doesn't get him anywhere really, just little parts here and there, and an eye roll when he walks into the room with his guitar, but he doesn't care. It works for him, and it's all leading to something. He knows it is.

When it actually does, he's not expecting it at all. It's just a normal audition, this time for a recurring role instead of a bit part, but still, nothing too exciting, at first. The role's at Nickelodeon, a sketch comedy show, and from the second Drake opens the script, he knows he wants this. The lines are funny, and he has to compose himself before he can read the part, but he nails it and the whole room laughs. He's feeling good, and then someone from behind the table asks him about his guitar, and things get even better. He launches into his story, about his love of playing the guitar and his favorite bands and how he's going to be a rock star and when he's done they're all shaking their heads and smiling and telling him they can use that. The next thing he knows he's signing contracts and meeting people and being put on an official payroll, and even before they start filming, it's the best thing ever.

Suddenly, his name is in the credits, for real, not the "guest stars" thing that rolls at the end, but at the very beginning, "Also starring," it says. Also starring him, and God, that's so cool. The show is fun, the cast is amazing, and they really do use his guitar playing. All the time, and that's even better. He's playing his guitar in sketches, and working with amazing people and being adopted into the Nickelodeon family and it's already more than most people ever thought would happen for him. It's awesome, and Drake feels like he's on his way, like this will take him where he wants to be- and then it gets even better.

Then one day this kid from New York, this guy his age, rolls onto set. Drake's met him before, on the set of Double Dare and they hadn't hit it off then, but from the second Josh steps onto set, Drake's sides hurt from laughing so much and they're talking like they've been friends for years, and before long they're totally inseparable. Josh is smart, and easy to talk to, and he tells great stories about New York and standup comedy and he makes Drake laugh harder than anyone else ever has.

Before long they have sketches together, sketches about the two of them, and people are saying their names in one breath, and the producer, Dan, is calling them a "great comedy team." Drake's never really had a friend on set before, not a close friend, and it makes it all even better. Makes being at work the best part of his day, hanging out with Josh, playing his guitar, acting out sketches that make him laugh when he watches the playback- life is good. And then, and there is a pattern here, one Drake could really get used to, it gets even better.

One day, Dan asks to use one of Drake's songs in the show, to play it in the background during their mock teen drama sketch, and Drake agrees before Dan finishes the question. They use the song a few more times, and then Drake gets to play it, on the show, gets to have his band play on the show, so the whole world (or the Nickelodeon watching world, but whatever. He's fifteen and it feels like the whole world) can hear him play a song he wrote. He's on a high for weeks afterwards, and Josh and the rest of the cast keep telling him how good it was, and then Dan pulls them aside and offers them their own show. He's writing a sitcom just for the two of them, a show about step brothers, and he's saying things about how Drake's character will play the guitar and hey, would Drake like to write the theme song? Drake isn't sure how this happened, when things had started going so well, but it all sounds like the best thing he's ever heard, and he walks away from the meeting humming, already thinking of lyrics.

Josh stares at him as they walk away, and mutters something about not believing Drake really wants to do a show with him, and Drake rolls his eyes and throws an arm around Josh and promises him their show is going to be completely awesome.

"We're going to be famous," He assures Josh, "We're getting our own show, and when it's over, you can do all those serious parts you love so much, and I can be a rock star and people will love us." Josh just smiles at him, this big, goofy smile like he can't believe Drake is real, and Drake grins back, because life is good, and this is exactly where he wants to be.

**

I can’t believe I’ve fallen for you.

The guy is standing out back, a cigarette in one hand and a giant cup of coffee in the other. He’s pacing, and muttering something to himself and the nervous energy of it all reminds Drake so strongly of Josh that he stops for a minute and just stares. The guy’s hair is messy, crazy curls everywhere, and he’s wearing a vest, and necklaces and pants that can’t possibly be his. He kind of looks like he’s rolled around in a thrift store and it makes Drake grin. The guy turns around all of the sudden, fast like he senses he’s being watched, and Drake realizes he knows him. Sort of. Knows of him anyway.

“Sorry,” Drake says, trying not to blush at being caught staring, “I was just checking out your vest.”

“Pretty sweet, isn’t it?” The guy says, grinning and looking down. Drake smiles, trying to remember the guy’s name. He’s one of the hosts here, and he’s on some show, and Drake should know this, he really should. They were both in the same room less than twenty minutes ago listening to the same weather update. (The rain had blown south, everything was going on as planned.) The guy takes one last, long drag on his cigarette before throwing it down and stamping it out, and suddenly Drake remembers- Mike. Michael… something.

“You know, they don’t like it when kid’s TV stars smoke,” Drake says, laughing. It’s a game he and Josh play all the time, anytime they do anything not TV Y7 approved. The guy, Mike, laughs.

“I’m pretty sure they frown on tattoos, too,” He says, gesturing to Drake’s arm where a tattoo is peaking out from under his rolled shirt sleeves, “Drake, right?”

“Yeah, Mike?” Drake asks, extending his hand and laughing. Mike takes Drake’s hand and shakes it and the motion is fast and jumpy like he’s wired, running on nothing but caffeine and nicotine. He bounces back on his heels when he drops Drake’s hand, taking a huge gulp of his coffee.

“So what’s up? What are you doing back here?” Mike asks, scanning him with bright, friendly eyes.

“Just needed some air,” Drake says. Mike nods.

“How do you feel about coffee?” He asks.

“Coffee is always good.”

“Good, cause I’m out. Walk with me to get more?” Mike offers, like they’ve been friends for years, and Drake grins. He likes Mike already, likes how friendly he is, likes how easy his grin is, likes the way he bounces when he walks and the way he seems to know every single person they meet on their ten minute walk for some coffee. (Because, as it turns out, Mike is very picky when it comes to his coffee, so they can’t go just anywhere.)

They sip coffee and talk about nothing at all for the next 45 minutes until they’re both called away, Drake for sound check and Mike to sit at an autograph table. The show goes well, the rain really does hold out, and the crowd screams for, “Makes me Happy,” the way they’ve been for the past few weeks. It’s all energy and screaming kids and lights set a little too bright, and after it’s over he signs autographs and poses for pictures and answers a million questions, and it’s fun, like it always is.

Mike catches his arm after it’s all over.

“When does your flight leave?” He asks.

“Eleven,” Drake responds, yawning a little. The rest of his band, the rest of the tour, is headed home after months on the road. Most of them have already left. Sneaking out as soon as equipment was packed. He has a hotel room in New York and an early call waiting for him.

“You wanna grab dinner first?” Mike asks, and Drake nods “yes” without even looking at his watch. He’s dreading New York just as much as he’s looking forward to it, and he could use a distraction.

“Awesome,” Mike says. They grab jackets and wallets, and Drake throws his bags in the trunk of the rental car he’s taking to the airport, then they head off towards a restaurant Mike promises he’ll love.

“So you’re like,” Mike pauses like he’s searching for a word, “really good. I mean, not that I thought you’d be terrible, but, you know, I’d like, actually listen to you.”

“Thanks.”

“No really, you’re like- different. In an awesome way.”

“Thanks,” Drake repeats, grinning, “I get what you mean, and thank you.”

“I mean it,” Mike says, then he smirks, “so shouldn’t there be like, network war, with you being on this tour and all?”

“You would think, but it turns out no one cares,” Drake says.

“Did it cause on tour tension?” Mike asks, still smirking and lowering his voice to what Drake assumes is his best ‘sleazy journalist’ impression.

“The Nick versus Disney thing? No.”

“Other tension? It’s that Corbin kid, isn’t it? I knew no one could be that nice,” Mike says, his voice still sleazy journalist but his eyes all laughter. Drake snickers and plays along,

“Actually? He really is that nice. It’s the weirdest thing.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. He’s all nice, and earnest and every time I talked to him I almost felt like I was corrupting him,” Drake says.

“Somehow, I get the feeling you corrupt people a lot,” Mike says, and Drake smirks,

“Not on purpose. Normally,” He says.

“Only under special circumstances?”

“Exactly,” Drake says, and Mike laughs, then he shakes his head.

“Really though. Come on, no one is that nice,” He says, turning the conversation back to Corbin, “I met him for like, ten minutes and I could feel my body turning into sugar.”

“He really is. I didn’t believe it either, but I think it’s for real.”

“Really?”

“Seriously. He even talks about how the whole High School Musical cast is the best of friends and how he loves them all and can’t wait to get back to filming because he misses them. All of them. He gushes about them,” Drake says. Mike laughs again,

“There has to be someone he likes a little less.”

“He swears there isn’t, and I’m pretty sure he means it,” Drake says, shaking his head.

“That’s kind of sweet,” Mike says, “but honestly, no one is that close with all-”

“That is so cute,” A female voice cuts in. The voice is followed by clacking heels, and then the figure of Mike’s co-host and costar. Ashley something. She’s appeared at their intersection, holding hands with a guy who’s glaring at Mike so hard it’s making Drake nervous.

“Hey Ash,” Mike says, grinning like he doesn’t notice, “what’s cute?”

“You two!” She says, beaming, “bonding over your cut from the same mold characters?”

“What?” Mike asks, looking as confused as Drake feels. Ashley rolls her eyes,

“Oh, come on,” she says, “With the man whoring, the guitar playing, the causing trouble constantly, the being loved by everyone anyway, and the step family stuff? It’s so obvious.” Drake stares at her, suddenly having flashes of actually watching Mike’s show, or being made to watch it by Jerry, who seemed to think it would be really funny to sit Drake and Josh in front of it and make them all watch it together.

“That actually hasn’t come up in conversation,” Mike says, still grinning. Ashley rolls her eyes again,

“Seriously? I’d think you two could talk about if for hours, and that’s before you got to the… under the surface stuff,” She says, making air quotes around the last part with her free hand.

“Reading message boards again?” Mike asks, his tone still playful like he has no idea the guy holding Ashley’s hand is getting redder by the minute.

“Whatever. You know it’s true,” Ashley says. Then she turns to Drake, grinning, “You were really good today, by the way,” she says.

“Thank you,” Drake says, grinning but still feeling vaguely overwhelmed. Clips of Mike’s show, Life With Derek are still playing in his head and he’s starting to understand exactly why Jerry had found it all so funny.

“Our reservations are in five minutes,” The guy holding Ashley’s hand bites out. She giggles.

“You two have fun,” she says.

“You too,” Mike says. “Enjoy dinner,” he finishes and there is a moment, just a second, on the last syllable of ‘dinner’ when it’s almost awkward, but then Mike is grinning again and Ashley and her date are walking away, and Drake wonders if Mike ever has awkward moments. “See? No one’s relationship with their costars is prefect all the time,” Mike says, picking up their earlier conversation.

“It can definitely be complicated, sometimes,” Drake agrees thinking about the hand holding guy’s face, and about a dozen other things he told himself he wouldn’t think about till he got
on the plane. Mike nods,

“Just a warning? Sleeping with them makes it worse,” he says. Drake swallows.

“Too late,” He mutters. It’s not something he tells strangers, or anyone at all, really, but it’s out before he can take it back. Mike’s eyes get wide for a second, and then he tugs on Drake’s arm and turns them around, pulling Drake the other way down the block, “What?” Drake manages.

“We’re going somewhere they serve alcohol. I’ll buy you a cab to the airport if I have to,” Mike says, shaking his head, “and all this time I thought I had the most scandalous kid’s TV secret.”


**

It’s all a joke at first. Just another game they play. Another thing they do between takes, on nights when filming runs late and they’re both restless, giddy on sleep replaced by caffeine. Another thing that smashes the Parker-Nichols world into the real world- and smashing the worlds has been fun since day one. It’s easy, with the shared names and the somewhat similar personalities, at least on the surface, and it makes them both laugh, every time. It happens when a scene calls for a lot of touching, when they’ve done the same scene six times, and their hands have been all over each other, and Drake Parker has smirked and Josh Nichols has blushed and stammered.

Then they have hugs of their own, Josh lifting him off the ground again, and their hands are back in the same places they were, only now there are no cameras rolling. Now they’re in their favorite little place on set, a spot where no one ever bothers them, and now their hands stay for even longer, and they’re eighteen, and they see each other more than they see anyone else, and their hormones are racing, and it feels like there is no one but them in the whole world. Now it’s quiet, no Dan, no crew or costars, just them, and a little room, and hands that don’t want to let go. Now Josh whispers, reminding Drake that they’re not actually stuck in a G-rated universe.

“In the real world, that scene would have ended like this,” He says, pushing Drake against a wall, attaching their lips, running a thumb along Drake’s hipbone. Drake grins into the kiss,

“I think the spanking is kinkier,” he says. Josh growls against his mouth.

“Josh Nichols wouldn’t know the first thing about kinky,” He says, hooking his fingers into Drake’s belt loops and pulling him closer, till there is no space at all between them, till Drake can’t move at all.

“Yeah, but Drake’s kind of a whore,” Drake says, grinning.

“All talk,” Josh says, getting a hand under Drake’s shirt, making him shiver.

“No way,” Drake says, his fingers heading towards Josh’s belt. (And if wardrobe or anyone else ever notices they come back a little more rumpled after breaks, a little less pressed, they never say a word.)

“Completely. Since really, all those girls are just a front,” Josh says, shimmying out of his jeans. Drake smirks,

“A front?”

“Because he wants this,” Josh says, pulling Drake’s shirt over his head and attacking his collar bone.

“Josh thinks about nothing but this all day long,” Drake counters, sliding his hands around Josh’s chest, under his shirt.

“Only because Drake is a fucking tease,” Josh says, helping Drake out of his jeans.

“I’m pretty sure they don’t like it when kid’s stars say ‘fuck,’” Drake says, as he slips his hand into Josh’s boxers. Josh shudders, then smirks and snakes his hand down past Drake’s hips(boxers, just do not fit well under his jeans. Nothing does, really. He likes it that way.),

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Josh says, a stroke of his hand with every word. Drake bites his lip and tries to hold in a moan as Josh keeps going, keeping the rhythm, a stroke for every curse, over and over again, and Drake’s brain melts and flips over on itself and it’s all he can do to hold himself up and keep up a rhythm on Josh with his own hand. He cries out Josh’s name a moment later, makes it a ten syllable word and sinks against the wall. Josh watches him, eyes big, the shade of blue they only get when they’re like this, and then he’s biting back a long, shuddering moan and collapsing against Drake.

The air is heavy and hot and their hearts are beating so loud Drake thinks they can probably hear them all over the studio. He doesn’t care. He puts a hand in Josh’s hair and vows silently to pay him back later, to do something that undoes Josh the way he’s just come undone.

“Fuck,” He breathes out, and Josh laughs,

“Exactly,” he says.

**

“So, how long?” Mike asks, taking a long sip of his beer.

“For which part?” Drake asks, because, honestly, when he looks back now, he can’t figure out the day it actually all started, what it was that changed.

“The sex part?” Mike suggests, “Or whatever part you think is most important.”

“Um, three years? A little more?” Drake says, Mike shakes his head.

"Like, consistently, or is this an on again, off again sort of thing?"

"Depends. It was consistently during filming. Not as much now," Drake admits.

"Because you don't see each other as much?" Mike asks, Drake shrugs,

"Not really. I mean, that's part of it, but like, it's just different now. Even when we do have time, it's not the way it was," Drake says, taking a sip from his second beer. He's a little tipsy, or, ok, a lot tipsy, and Mike is friendly, and the food is good, and he's never actually talked about any of this before, at least not out loud, and it feels good. He can't seem to stop talking. Stop sharing.

"Different how?"

"Well, before, on set, or after filming, it was about them," Drake says, running a hand through his hair, "for them."

"For them?" Mike repeats, raising his eyebrows.

"Because they couldn't, because they were stuck in their kid's TV world, they never could, so we had to do it for them, end the scene right, give them their moments, you know?" Drake says, taking another gulp of his drink. Mike frowns,

"Isn't that backwards?"

"What?"

"Isn't it easier for them? They can't really get caught, and even if they do, what does it matter? I mean, they might never be able to do it on screen, but still. Your lives have consequences. Theirs don't," Mike says. Drake stares at him,

"I guess," He says, blinking. No one’s ever said that before, although that might just be because he’s never talked about it before. Still, it throws him a little, because it makes sense, but goes against everything he’s been telling himself for years, or at least trying to tell himself. It hasn’t always worked, and there are moments, days, weeks, when it’s not about them- not about Drake Parker and Josh Nichols- at all. They always fall back into it though, and Drake’s always, always told himself it was because they were doing it for them. He knows they’re not just friends, that they probably never have been, and he knows Josh is pretty much the most important person in his life, but it’s still always been easier to throw it on to them, to pretend they’re all hidden away in a San Diego bedroom, finishing scenes. Ending things right.

**

Recovery is really, really hard. He feels like death, he looks like death, Physical Therapy is like torture, and when he's not at PT, he's bored out of his mind. He wants to get back to work, back to writing songs, back to his life, but he can't yet. It's all day by day and step by step and minute by minute, and nothing is the way it should be. Nothing but Josh. Josh is there every day, bringing him smoothies and encouraging him, watching his PT sessions, running around doing things as Drake weakly insists that he doesn't have to.

"Really, Josh, you can go home, I'll be ok," He says, but Josh just shakes his and grins and puts groceries in Drake's refrigerator. He's just there, every day, every step, watching Drake get better, helping him get better. It's so much more than Drake ever expected, but Josh has a habit of doing that, and Drake doesn't know why it surprises him anymore. From the first day Josh had walked onto set, to the night of Drake's accident when he'd been one of the first people there, ready with a line to make Drake smile. Everything with Josh is just always so much more.

The crazy thing is, the entire time Drake is recovering, they don't do anything more than exchange a few quick kisses, kisses that could almost be platonic, if guys their age did that sort of thing. Not that they could do much, Drake knows he’s hurt, so obviously shoving each other against walls and all that is out, but still, there's nothing. Only it's not nothing, not at all, because this, this Josh being there for him thing, this Josh-taking-care-of-him-smoothies- every-day-more-than-Drake-expected thing, is the first time it occurs to him that it's not just a game. It's the first time it occurs to Drake that they're not just friends, which is ridiculous, really, and something that should have occurred to him before because they've been more than friendly for so long now.

Even crazier, is how damn happy it's making Drake. Really, as the weeks go by he's feeling less crazy and bored and more like he can't stop smiling. A big part of it is being alive, getting better, because that's all really, really, awesome- but it wouldn't be nearly as awesome without Josh by his side. He doesn't know what it means really, doesn't know if it changes things or even if he wants it to, but he knows it makes everything feel brighter. Sunnier. Better. Makes Drake want to sing, makes him want to write a million songs, makes him want to dance around like an idiot, and it's complete craziness, really.

The day he gets the all clear to go back to work, he really does dance around like an idiot, he keeps singing to himself, and bouncing. Josh picks him up from his appointment and then as soon as they're in the door Drake hears himself suggest they celebrate. Josh smirks and tugs on his hand and it’s still not up against the wall, but they're in Drake's bed pretty much instantly, making up for months without. They're both beaming, and even this is different, they don't mention them once, and it's intense and tender and when they're done Drake never, ever wants to move again. He still doesn't know what it means, not any of it, or what it changes, but he drifts off listening to Josh's heartbeat and composing lyrics in his head.


**

"But we don't have an excuse anymore," Drake says, and Mike blinks.

"You need an excuse?"

"Maybe? Not always, but-" Drake trails off, downing the rest of his beer, “It’s easier that way.” He finishes. Mike shakes his head.

"Have you ever actually talked about it?"

"Sort of. Not really," Drake says.

"When do you see him next?" Mike asks.

"Tomorrow morning. The View."

"The View?" Mike asks, looking a little impressed. Drake shrugs and rolls his eyes. "How long has it been?" Mike asks.

"We had an interview together like a month ago," Drake says, “we didn’t really have any alone time together, though.”

“So you should talk about it tomorrow,” Mike says. Drake takes a gulp of the refilled drink that’s appeared in front of him.

“I don’t know what I’d say,” Drake says, feeling helpless, and a little drunk. Mike raises an eyebrow,

“Aren’t words like, your thing?” He asks.

“Only the kind you put music to.”

“So write him a song,” Mike says casually, taking a slow sip of his own drink.

“I’ve done that,” Drake says, and Mike chokes on his drink a little. Drake runs a hand through his hair and waits for Mike to recover. He’s never said that out loud either, to anyone, although he’s sure people assume.

“So wait,” Mike says, taking a deep breath, “You’ve been friends since you were kids. At some point you started making out and having sex on the set of your show. He was there for you after your accident. He’s always there for you. You write him songs, ” Mike finishes. Drake
nods,

“Yeah well, I mean, they’re more songs about him and us or whatever than for him but-” Drake starts, Mike cuts him off.

“This all seems pretty simple to me.”

“Simple?”

“Like you guys should be able to just, be,” Mike says.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is.”

“You don’t-”

“I don’t understand?” Mike asks, cutting Drake off again and raising his eyebrows, “I’m pretty sure I do.”

“Yeah, but,” Drake starts, then stops. He doesn’t really know where to go with that. Doesn’t know how to object, how to explain all the things he still doesn’t understand himself.

“Look, you have an hour flight and all that airport waiting time; use it to think about all of this. Figure out what to say. Then get some sleep and some courage, do your interview, and then pull him into some secluded corner or something, tell him what you want, and make out a little. Then call me and tell me all about. Not the making out part, but, you know,” Mike finishes, grinning. Drake finishes is drink and rolls his eyes and thinks that if he didn’t like Mike so much he’d probably hate him.

**

Josh laughs for five solid minutes the first time he hears “Up Periscope,” he laughs till he turns red, almost giggling, like he just can’t handle it all, and normally that’s Drake’s thing. They’re at Josh’s apartment, listening to the tracks Drake’s been working on all spring. Josh makes him play “Up Periscope,” three times in a row, beaming the whole way through every time.

“Seriously?” He asks as the song fades, his eye gleaming the way they do when he thinks Drake has done something awesome. Drake smirks and blushes, but only a little,

“So, it’s obvious, then?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Obvious and not even a little Kid’s TV appropriate,” Josh assures him, shaking his head. Drake smirks. It’s not that he’s trying to offend people, but he’s ridiculously proud of how this song, how this whole album is coming together, proud of how adult it sounds. How it doesn’t sound Drake Parker, or like Nickelodeon at all.

“Josh Nichols wouldn’t get it,” Drake says, because, ok, there is a part of him that is childishly excited about how sexual it is too. Josh rolls his eyes, but grins.

“Drake would have to explain it.”

“Line by line?”

“Every fucking word,” Josh says.

“So, your door is shut, right?” Drake asks, smirking.

“That’s some seriously half-assed checking.”

“Shut up and hit the lights,” Drake says, “We have things to do.”

For the next two weeks, they walk around set quoting random lyrics at each other and then dissolving into laughter. They start using it as code, only everyone gets it, which makes it a terrible code, but they don’t really care. It’s just way too much fun- and them- whatever them is- is always fun. Pulling each other off, hiding in their favorite corners and rooms, making jokes about submarines and periscopes that are always, always funny- it’s just way too easy, way too awesome. They have to, even they’re so far past subtle it’s getting dangerous.
They hide away and they run late, and they annoy everyone else and they don’t care. Not at all.

Jerry knocks on the door to their favorite closet one day (they always send Jerry. Always.)

“Drake, they need you on set,” he calls.

“Five minutes. I’m busy,” Drake shouts back, after he catches his breath a little.

“He’s captaining,” Josh says, his voice all heavy and thick. They both snicker.

“I hate you both,” Jerry says, “so much.”

“Five minutes,” Drake repeats, not even bothering to listen for Jerry’s footsteps get far away before he gets back to work. So yeah, not even a little bit subtle, and with the show wrapping up, with things coming to an end all around them, they should really stop, or figure things out, but neither of them brings it up, or makes any move to stop.

**

You asked for a reason, I let my love come down.

The flight ends up taking almost an hour longer than it should, and normally that would frustrate Drake, but he’s so lost in thought that he hardly notices. He’s not even thinking about Josh, not in a way that helps anything at all, anyway. He’s thinking about answers to questions Mike hadn’t even asked, about things he hates to think about. It’s not that he’s afraid of the answers, at least he doesn’t think he is, it’s just at he’s not sure why he doesn’t have them yet. He feels like it should be simple, and when he’s with Josh, everything is. It’s when he has time to think that it all starts to get away from him.

He likes to think of himself as open minded, likes to think he doesn’t care about what world thinks, about what people label things, but part of him wishes he could put a word on not only what he has with Josh but on himself. Sometimes he thinks he knows, sometimes he’s completely and totally sure, and he’s fine with that, really- but then, sometimes, when he hasn’t seen Josh in forever, he wonders if maybe it’s just Josh. Wonders if it’s not just because of the way they’re always together- wonders if it’s just because he’s always just comparing everyone to Josh. He wonders if maybe that’s not fair, if it’s not that girls are girls, it’s that they’re not Josh, which isn’t a fair comparison at all. But then he wonders if he’s only wondering all of that because he’s more scared than he ever admits to himself. Sometimes, it just feels like one more thing on the list of the ways he’s not what he’s supposed to be, like one thing too many, and without Josh sitting next to him, it’s easy to think himself in circles till he doesn’t know anymore.

Not that any of it matters, because no matter how many circles he thinks in, he always ends up back at Josh.


**

Amazingly, Drake isn’t hung over the next morning. His stomach is turning, but it has nothing to do with the three beers he’d finished the night before, although he blames them when Josh asks. Josh, who meets him for breakfast before their interview, his hair long, his eyes amused. Josh who teases Drake about not being able to hold his alcohol, and wants to know all about how Drake’s touring went, even though he’s been spending the summer living out his own dream.

It’s all relaxed and easy and being with Josh is just so damn good, and somewhere during his third cup of the coffee that’s just making his stomach jump worse, it occurs to Drake that he’s in love with Josh. That he’s stupidly, overwhelmingly, in love with Josh, and that he probably always has been. The knowledge isn’t as unsettling as it should be, possibly because it feels like something he should have figured out a long time ago. It does make his stomach tie in one or two more knots, but mostly it just makes him smile slightly, even if it shouldn’t, even if he’s not really sure what to do with it. Putting a name on it doesn’t really solve anything, but he finds himself wondering if it could, if he could tell Josh, if they could be together without being together. If they could get a place together, a home to hide out in, so they could be friends to the outside world and everything once they were home together. If they could wait it out, give it the years it would probably take for them to be able to just be. With Josh sitting across from him, sipping coffee and staring at him the way only Josh ever does, it seems doable. Possible.

The interview goes really, really well, and they never do that. They’re generally pretty terrible at television interviews, and Drake knows it. They both know it; it’s one more thing on their long list of jokes. Something about interviews just tends to put both of them off, and then Josh lies outrageously and Drake rambles to avoid questions and they end up just laughing at their own inside jokes and taking comfort in each other. This one feels right though, from the moment they step on stage. Something about it clicks, and Drake wonders if it’s a sign. They talk about the show, and Drake’s music and Josh’s new movie and it’s fun like interviews never are.

Barbra Walters asks them if it was ‘love at first sight’ and yeah, Drake thinks this all has to be a sign. Really. They talk about Drake’s accident, and Drake gets to talk about how amazing Josh was, and talking about that here, in front of the whole world(or the daytime TV watching world, but whatever, he’s with Josh and it feels like they’re telling the whole world.), makes his heart so light he’s almost dizzy. Josh just grins, like he’s torn between being modest and acknowledging how awesome he’d been. The whole thing really feels, to Drake, like the universe is trying to tell him to go for it, to tell Josh what he’d been thinking this morning.

He pulls Josh into a dressing room when they’re done. He smiles nervously and kisses Josh softly, preparing himself. He takes a few deep breaths and is about to tell Josh everything, but Josh starts talking first.

“We did good,” Josh says, but he’s frowning a little.

“Yeah,” Drake agrees,

“I missed you,” Josh says quickly, before Drake can get anything else out.

“I missed you too.”

“No, dude, I really fucking missed you,” Josh says, looking as nervous as Drake feels.

“I missed you too,” Drake repeats, staring at Josh.

“Not the same,” Josh says.

“What?”

“Not- all summer. All summer. I- can’t.”

“You can’t what?” Drake asks. Part of him hopes they’re on the exact same page, that Josh had a figured things out over coffee this morning too, that he’s working up to telling Drake he loves him, that he’ll say if first, that he’ll say it all. Josh raises his eyes to the ceiling like he’s hoping for guidance,

“This. We can’t. We can’t do this trippy ass them-but-us thing anymore” Josh says. Drake frowns.

“But, that’s what we do,” he says, puzzled.

“I know. That’s the problem. We can’t.”

“Why?”

“I can’t. It’s too much,” Josh says, his eyes scanning the room, going anywhere but Drake.

“Too much what?” Drake asks, and he really, really doesn’t understand what Josh is getting at.

“They’re over. Filming is done,” Josh says, which doesn’t answer Drake’s question at all.

“So?” He asks.

“So we have to be too,” Josh says, and Drake is pretty sure the floor actually gives way beneath him.

“What?”

“Can we just-” Josh starts to ask, then trails off and runs a hand through his hair.

“Can we just what?” Drake asks, hating the way his voice is shaking.

“Just- your accident, and this summer, and today, and I can’t, Drake,” Josh says.

“You can’t what?” Drake asks, again, and God, he wishes Josh would start making sense.

“Can we- I need, I need us to just do friend things.”

“Friend things?” Drake repeats, the walls tumbling away to join the floor, wherever the hell it had gone.

“Please.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t,” Josh says, finally looking at Drake.

“Yeah. I got that part. Why can’t you?” Drake snaps. Josh looks as destroyed as Drake feels, and Drake just doesn’t understand.

“It’s not enough,” Josh says, his voice all quiet and intense like it gets sometimes, Normally
Drake loves that, today it’s the worst thing he’s ever heard.

“I thought it was ‘too much,’” Drake says.

“Drake,” Josh says, like he’s pleading.

“Will you just talk to me?”

“I’m trying.”

“You can’t just tell me you want to change the way things have been for three years and not give me a better reason than that, Josh.”

“Things already changed. We have to change too,” Josh says.

“Why?”

“I need them too,” Josh says, reaching out a hand like he wants to touch Drake, than stopping himself. Drake still doesn’t know what he’s getting at, doesn’t know what he wants at all, and suddenly he’s furious.

“Fine,” he snaps, “just friend things?” Josh winces,

“Don’t,” He says. Drake ignores him.

“No, it’s fine,” he says, “I’ll just get going now, since we’ve already spent a normal fucking friendly amount of time together today,” He finishes. Josh looks terrible, like the floor has fallen out from beneath him too, but Drake doesn’t care. He storms out before Josh can say another word.


**

Drake doesn’t speak to Josh for almost two weeks. He ignores phone calls and texts until Josh shows up at his door, looking miserable.

“What?” He asks, opening the door and glaring at Josh.

“Come on,” Josh says, and Drake waits for the ‘I’m sorry’, waits to hear Josh explain things, waits to hear what he desperately needs to, but Josh doesn’t say anything, he just stands there, looking at Drake with big sad eyes.

“What?” Drake repeats, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t be an asshole about this,” Josh says. Drake stares at him, stunned.

“Seriously?” He asks.

“I’m trying,” Josh says.

“You came here to tell me not to be an asshole?”

“I came here to talk to you,” Josh corrects.

“So talk.”

“Are you going to like, let me in first?” Josh asks.

“Maybe,” Drake says, and ok, so he’s being a bit of an ass, but he’s hurt, so fucking hurt, and Josh is just making it worse.

“Drake.”

“Whatever,” Drake says, stepping back and letting Josh into his living room.

“Listen,” Josh says as Drake shuts the door, “I’m sorry.”

“Good,” Drake says childishly, crossing his arms again. Josh sighs,

“I still- I didn’t change my mind about anything.”

“I’m not even sure what you made up your mind about ,” Drake says.

“Us?” Josh suggests, weakly. Drake glares at him, feeling like Josh should have been better prepared for this conversation, like if he was going to come see him, he should have had, a list of reasons made or something.

“What about us?” He asks. Josh sighs and sits down on Drake’s couch, glancing at the cushion beside him like he expects Drake to follow. Drake rolls his eyes and sits as far away from Josh as possible. Josh takes a deep breath,

“It’s over, right? It’s time for you to be a rock star and me to make amazing movies, remember? We can’t be them, we have to be us,” Josh says, speaking slowly.

“So?”

“So I can’t, I can’t be me, I can’t like, move on, can’t find something real, if we’re still playing this game,” Josh says, and fuck, that hurts. It actually, physically hurts, somewhere deep in Drake’s chest, and he doesn’t know what to say, what to do, but Josh is still looking at him. He’s biting his lip and asking Drake, begging Drake, with his eyes, to understand, to say it’s ok.

“Oh,” Drake says. He needs his guitar, needs a cigarette, needs to push Josh down on this couch and make him change his mind, needs something. Anything.

“I’m sorry,” Josh says again, real this time, soft, like he means it.

“I didn’t-” Drake starts, and he wants to say it wasn’t all a game, that it was real, that is real, that they could grow up and do all that together- but he can’t, it’s already all too
much, and if Josh disagreed with him about that he doesn’t think he could take it.

“I just can’t,” Josh repeats, “Not if,” he starts, but lets it trail.

“Not if what?” Drake asks, staring at his own jeans.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Ok,” Drake says softly.

“Ok, what?”

“Everything.”

“Thank you,” Josh says, pulling Drake into a hug, and that hurts too. Everything hurts.

“Are you sure we can do it?”

“Do what?” Josh asks.

“Just… just do friend things? It’s been so long. Old habits,” Drake says, fighting to keep his voice steady.

“We have to. We have to always be us,” Josh says, sounding a little desperate.

“Ok,” Drake says, even though he’s pretty sure they can’t be them if they’re just friends, even though he isn’t sure than can just be friends. They’ve never been just friends, and he has no idea why Josh thinks they can start now, but he’s too hurt, too tired, to fight it anymore.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Josh says, and Drake almost laughs, because Josh has just moved thousands of miles away. He felt it. Feels it.

“Good.”

“I-“

“You what?”

“I promise,” Josh says, “I fucking- we’ll make it work, I swear.” Drake doesn’t believe him, not even a little, but he nods anyway.

It’s not until later that night that it occurs to Drake that Josh is still filming, that he must have flown out for the weekend just so they could have that conversation.
**

( Part Two)