It was one of those perfect summer evenings that made Josh glad his family lived in San Diego. The air was warm without being overly so, with a cool breeze blowing in from the ocean to help dry the beads of perspiration curling the ends of his hair. He whistled one of Drake's songs as he headed toward home, tossing the basketball from hand to hand and occasionally dribbling it on the sidewalk in front of him. He walked with a spring in his step, pleased with himself over the six baskets he'd scored. His team had still lost, of course, but by only twenty-five points this time instead of the usual forty plus. That was practically winning, as far as Josh was concerned.

The outside lights were already on by the time he reached the house. The motion sensor flashed on as he ducked through the fence at the side of the house, and he took advantage of the sudden flood of light to take one more shot at the hoop in the backyard before going inside. Ten minutes and thirty missed shots later, his hair was dripping with sweat again. He trudged into the house with his head hung, consoling himself with the fact that at least he didn't hit himself in the face with the ball anymore.

Megan was hunched over the dining room table, scribbling furiously in a spiral-bound notebook as he trudged past. "Hey, Megs," he said, and she grunted an acknowledgement without looking up. Shrugging, he tucked the basketball under his arm and passed through to the kitchen.

She was still at it a few minutes later when he re-emerged, swallowing the last bite of his apple. She was bent so low over her work her nose was practically touching the pen as it flew across the page. Josh stopped in the doorway, watching her; just then she stopped writing and looked off into space, tapping the pen against her pursed lips. "Hmm..." she murmured thoughtfully, angling her head to read what she had written. Then, "No," in a tone that sounded close to disgust, and she lowered the pen again and slashed lines through a large section of the text.

"What're you doing?" Josh said, his curiosity getting the better of him. He edged closer to the table and craned his neck to see if he could catch a glimpse of what she was writing, but no luck. The cramped script was too small, and he was too far away.

"What?" she said distractedly, dragging her attention away from the page in front of her. As though she had finally realized there was another person in the room, her eyes snapped into focus on his face and she slammed the notebook shut. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," Josh replied, feeling a bit like a kid who'd been caught pilfering cookies half an hour before dinner was to be ready. "I was just wondering what you were doing, that's all."

"Homework," she huffed, clasping the green notebook to her chest and pushing back her chair.

"Homework?" Josh's brows beetled with confusion as she stomped past him on her way to the stairs. "Why are you doing homework in the middle of the summer?"

"I'm getting a head start on next year," she said, and a moment later he jumped at the sound of her bedroom door slamming shut. He stood rooted to the spot, eyes darting suspiciously to all corners of the room. Something was up. Something was up with Megan. This was not good. Not good at all.

Turning, he ran up the steps two at a time and burst through the door to his and Drake's bedroom, kicking it shut behind him. Drake was propped up in his bed, leaning against his pillows, long legs crossed at the ankles. A pair of studio headphones dwarfed much of his face; the music playing through them was cranked up to such a volume Josh could make out the melody from across the room. Drake's eyes were screwed tightly shut, his fingers picking out the tune on the unamped guitar slung low across his belly.

"Drake!" Josh shouted, even though he knew Drake probably wouldn't hear him. Drake's face twisted into what Josh had dubbed his "intense performance" face, and he started lip synching along with the song still blaring through his headphones. Josh yelled his name again, louder this time, waving his free arm in the air for good measure, and when that still failed to get Drake's attention Josh tossed the basketball in his stepbrother's direction.

The ball bounced off the shelf over Drake's bed, knocking it askew, and a huge stack of CDs cascaded into his lap. He gave a screech and startled violently, ripping the headphones off as he chucked the guitar over and swung his legs off the side of the bed. When he caught sight of Josh, he stopped in mid-leap. "Dude," he panted, his chest heaving as he fell back onto the bed. "What the fuck are you doing? I thought it was an earthquake!"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't get your attention," Josh said, one arm extended. "I need to ask you something."

"So ask," Drake replied, pulling the guitar back into his lap and running his fingers gingerly along the edge of the body where it had hit the wall.

Josh pulled his sweat-soaked wristbands off and tossed them on his bed. "Have you noticed anything weird about Megan lately?"

Drake gave him a contemptuous look. "Uh... yeah, of course I have. She's Megan."

"No, I mean weirder than usual."

Drake tilted his head, and Josh felt his breath catch as Drake's bangs spilled into his eyes. "No," Drake said slowly, raising one hand to smooth his hair back. "I don't think so. Why?"

"Because she was downstairs writing something just now, and when I asked her what it was she said it was homework."

"So?"

"So, this is July."

"I know," Drake said, leaning the guitar against the side of his bed. "You read all summer long, don't you? It's just something dorks do." He jumped off the loft and headed for the little refrigerator at its foot.

"No, that's not it."

Drake pulled a can of Mocha Cola out of the fridge and popped it open. "Then what?"

"I don't know. That's what's bothering me."

"You know," Drake said thoughtfully, "now that you mention it, I did see her writing something in the kitchen the other day." He took a sip of his soda. "When I tried to see what it was, she got all pissy and bitched me out."

Josh reached over his head to grab at the collar of his T-shirt. "She just did the same thing to me," he said, pulling the shirt off and swiping it under each arm. "I'm telling you, something weird's going on with her."

Drake turned away, small patches of pink rising high on his face. "Maybe she's got a pen pal."

"Maybe," Josh replied, thinking about Yooka, "but she'd probably do that by e-mail." He threw the shirt on top of the wristbands he'd discarded earlier. "She could be keeping a diary."

"Nah, she wouldn't take a chance on writing it in front of us. She'd know we'd want to read it." Drake flopped down on the couch and propped his feet up on the table in front of it.

"That's what makes me so nervous," Josh said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "She obviously wants us to wonder what's going on."

"Yeah." Drake set the soda can on the table by his feet and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell you what. How 'bout if this time, we don't play along with her little game?"

Josh stopped in the middle of untying one of his sneakers. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how about if, just this once, we don't let ourselves get all crazy about what she might be up to?" Drake said, craning his head over his shoulder to look Josh in the eye as he spoke. "She's just trying to set us up again, man. Let's not let her do it."

The sneaker fell out of Josh's hands and landed on the floor with a thud. "You mean we should just ignore her?"

"Just totally ignore her," Drake said, nodding.

"Like, not even try to find out what she's up to?"

"Like, pretend we don't even care."

Josh yanked at the shoelace on his remaining sneaker. "And you think that will keep her from... doing whatever she might be planning to do?"

"It might. Think about it, Josh. How many times has she gotten us just because we were stupid enough to walk into her trap?"

Josh considered this for a moment. "A lot," he said with an abashed smile.

"Exactly. So now, we are not going to play along."

"Yeah," Josh said. "Okay." A rush of determination washed over him. "She's not going to get away with anything this time," he said firmly, his voice rising as he dropped the second sneaker to the floor beside its mate.

"Nope." Drake plucked his soda off the table and took a sip through grinning lips.

"We just act like we don't care what she's up to, and it will foil all her plans. Foil them!" Josh jabbed a finger toward the ceiling to punctuate his point.

"Yeah," Drake said, chuckling. "Foil."

"She'll be sorry she ever tried to mess with us!"

"And about time, too."

"I only have to outlast her for a few more weeks anyway," Josh said, pulling off his grimy socks. "And then I'll be off to school."

"Yep."

A tiny chink of doubt crept into the wall of enthusiasm Drake's words had built. "I mean, we do that and it'll pull the rug out from under whatever -- " His voice faltered as the doubt started to swell. " -- really horrible, awful thing she might be planning to do to us as her swan song before I leave..."

Drake lowered his soda can and swallowed hard, his grin fading rapidly. "Sure, because if we don't... she can't..."

They exchanged horrified looks for a moment as the reality of Megan's destructive potential once again hit each of them between the eyes. As one, they leapt from their respective seats and started yelling across each other.

"Man, I gotta know!"

"We have to find out!"

"What if we're already too late?"

"I'm gonna go crazy not knowing!"

"Okay, okay, wait!" Drake shouted, thrusting both hands up in the air in front of him. Josh quieted at once, panting slightly, and waited for Drake to go on. "Look. All we have to do is find that notebook, right? So the next time she's out of the house, we'll go take a look in her room."

"Oh, man," Josh whined. "I hate it when we have to go in her room. Bad things always happen to us when we go in her room."

"Would you rather find out the hard way?"

Josh sighed. "No. Okay. I guess you're right. We only have one choice." He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his gym shorts and started to pull them down.

"Dude," Drake said, the dots of color returning to his cheekbones, "do that in the bathroom, would you? I don't need to see that."

"Oh. Yeah. Sure," Josh said sheepishly, jerking them back over his hips. "Sorry."

Megan had a standing date with her friends every afternoon during the summer. On sunny days they would head to the beach or to one of the pools in her friends' backyards. When it rained, they would congregate in someone's bedroom to talk and listen to CDs, or, more often, go to the mall to shop and drink smoothies. It was usually Drake's or Josh's responsibility to drop her off at the appointed meeting place for any given day, but the afternoon after they decided to snoop into her latest plan, their father surprised them all by saying he had some errands to run and would take her himself.

Josh sat at the computer tapping his foot impatiently and pretending to check his e-mail until the sound of Megan's and his father's voices, drifting up to their bedroom window from the driveway below, was cut off by the twin thumps of the car doors slamming. He glanced nervously at Drake as the engine rumbled into life. "Be cool," Drake said. "We have to wait until we're sure she's really gone."

Five minutes later, they were creeping toward Megan's bedroom. The house was empty except for the two of them so there was really no need to sneak around, but years of experience had taught them it was always better to be careful where Megan was concerned.

"Don't touch the hamster," Drake whispered, slowly twisting the doorknob. Josh nodded, shivering; he needed no reminding on that point. They poked their heads through the crack between door and frame and peered inside. The room was empty and as scrupulously tidy as always, which was strange and unnerving enough on its own but worse for the knowledge that this was the room where Evil dwelled. Drake opened the door all the way and straightened up. "Okay," he whispered. "I'll take the desk, you take the dresser." Josh nodded again, too edgy to speak, and they moved off to their respective tasks.

It was slow work. Many of the drawers squeaked if pulled open too quickly, and neither of them had any idea if Megan was crazy (or cagey) enough to have bugged her own room. This meant the drawers had to be inched open to keep them from making any unusual sounds, though after a while Josh began to wonder if it was worth the effort since apprehension made his breathing sound like a death rattle to his own ears. Every time the wood squealed or thumped as it moved, Josh's heart would seize. Worse, once a drawer was open it took all the courage he had to actually reach inside. God only knew what kind of traps she might have set.

By the time he had finished searching the dresser Josh knew far more about Megan's taste in underwear than he'd ever wanted to know, but had otherwise come up empty. There was no sign of Megan's notebook. Drake appeared to have had similar luck. He had moved from the desk to Megan's bedside table, and when Josh caught his eye he pointed silently at the closet door. They lifted her mattress, rolled back the fuzzy purple area rugs, even checked behind the unicorn poster. Nothing.

"I don't think it's here," Drake sighed quietly in Josh's ear after about an hour of fruitless searching.

"Yeah," Josh whispered back, carefully arranging Megan's pillows. Had this one been a little more to the left when they'd come in? He couldn't remember. "She must have taken it with her."

"I guess. C'mon, let's get out of here."

"Right." Josh smoothed the pillowcase down and leaned over to straighten Megan's stuffed panda. As he stepped forward, he felt something soft shift under his foot and he jumped back with a gasp.

"What?" Drake asked as Josh hopped away from the bed with one foot suspended in the air behind him.

"There's something under there," Josh squeaked. "I don't know what it is, but I think I may have killed it."

The color drained from Drake's face as he dropped to his belly and thrust one arm under Megan's bed up to the shoulder. Wincing, Josh held his breath and stood with his foot in the air, afraid to see what might be smeared across the bottom of his shoe.

"No, wait!" Drake said suddenly, pulling his arm back. A crumpled ball of paper rested in his hand. "I think I found something." Josh lowered his foot and pressed it tentatively to the floor as Drake unrolled the paper. An almost maniacal grin of joy spread across his face as his eyes darted back and forth. "Josh, you gotta see this!" he said triumphantly, apparently no longer concerned they might be under surveillance. He pressed the paper into Josh's chest. "We've got her now!"

Frowning, Josh took the wrinkled paper. A few sentences were scrawled across the top the page. He felt his eyes grow wide and round as he scanned it.

"Yeah" he said, stroking his cock until it looked red and angry. "I'll do that," he said, "I'll put it where it will feel really good and your really going to like it."

"Whoa." Josh felt like he'd just seen his mother naked. "Oh my God, no way."

"Yes way!" Drake snatched the paper from between Josh's senseless fingers. He looked like he'd just won the lottery. "Do you know what this means?" Josh shook his head numbly, even though he knew exactly what it meant. "Dude," Drake crowed, "Megan is writing porn!"

"Mom and Dad are gonna have a fit." Josh closed their bedroom door as Drake vaulted over the back of the couch and landed on the faded cushions with a bounce.

"I know," Drake said, beaming. "Isn't it awesome? Finally, solid proof she's done something wrong, and in her own handwriting, too." He kissed the crinkled paper and pressed it against his chest with a happy sigh. "So, should we show it to them before or after dinner?"

"Neither."

"I think after dinner would be best," Drake said, ignoring Josh completely. "No sense in taking a chance they'll be so upset that no one gets fed, right?"

"Drake --"

"I mean, tonight's taco night --"

"Drake!"

Drake looked up in surprise. "What?"

"We can't show that to Mom and Dad."

"Why not?"

Josh made an irritated noise. "Because it's not enough, all right? Look, Megan's no dummy. She can easily explain that away."

"Yeah, right," Drake scoffed. "How's she going to do that?"

"I don't know. She could..." Josh paused for a moment to think. "She could say it's about a guy and a... a rooster. His pet rooster. And when he touches it too much, it gets angry."

"Are you kidding?" Drake said with a disbelieving laugh. "Even Megan couldn't get away with that."

"Do you want to take that chance?" Josh replied, sitting down next to Drake. "Remember all those times she lied and we told the truth, and they believed her over us? This is our one chance to get her back for all of that. Mom and Dad will ground her forever if they find out, but we have to play it smart and not give her a chance to wiggle out of it. We really have to nail her on this one. This --" He tapped the paper lying over Drake's heart. " -- isn't enough. We need more."

Drake batted Josh's finger away and placed his hands on top of the paper as though Josh were waving a lit match. "More what?" he asked peevishly.

"More of that," Josh said, pointing at Drake's hands. "Enough that she can't possibly explain it away. We have to find that notebook."

"We tried that already."

"Well, we need to try again. Can you think of a better plan?"

Drake closed his mouth and stared at the wall for a moment, apparently deep in thought. It looked like hard work. Finally, he shook his head. "No," he said, sounding defeated. "I guess not."

"Good. Okay. So. We just have to keep our eyes open. She can't keep it on her twenty-four hours a day. And once we find it, her butt is ours. Cool?" Josh smiled and raised his hand, palm out, waiting for Drake to slap it in agreement. Drake gave him a blank look in return and reached for the remote, instead. "Cool," Josh said again with an uncomfortable chuckle, his arm twitching slightly as he lowered his hand.

But finding the notebook turned out to be much easier said than done. Megan showed no signs of knowing Drake and Josh had invaded her bedroom, but neither did she appear again with her notebook in tow. After a few days with no sightings they started taking turns distracting her, with one attempting awkward conversation while the other slipped off for a quick search of whatever room she had just left. They surprised their father one afternoon by cleaning out the garage, a frustrating experience that left them with sore muscles and dusty clothes but yielded no worthwhile results. In desperation they even gave the yard a thorough search, going so far as to climb up into Robbie's tree house even though they'd sworn to one another they would never set foot in it again.

"I'm starting to think it never existed in the first place," Josh said into the darkness one night after he and Drake had crawled into their beds.

"Yeah," Drake replied, yawning, "'cause I hear it's very common for people to imagine seeing their little sisters write porn. There was a big article about it on the Internet a few days ago. They're working on a vaccine."

"Ha ha, very funny."

"Go to sleep, Josh."

July slipped into August before they finally gave up. It seemed Megan had gotten wise to their interest somehow, and either destroyed the evidence or had it hidden so well Josh wouldn't have been surprised if she couldn't find it herself.

He tried to take his mind off the missing notebook by making a to-do list the length of his arm in preparation for leaving for school. Making the list was the easy part; getting things done turned out to be a different story. He only had three weeks before he was supposed to leave, yet every time he thought about actually starting to pack he froze with indecision and anxiety. How much stuff should he take with him? And which stuff? Every day he gathered piles of things together on his bed, and every day he added new items and took others away, but by nightfall everything was always back in the closet again.

"What d'you think?" he asked Drake late one afternoon, holding up a armful of sweatshirts. "Should I take all of these?"

Drake strummed another chord and didn't look up. "I don't care, man."

Lying in his bed one night, Josh started worrying about the weather. How cold did it get in Michigan, anyway? He'd never experienced a really cold winter before. This question sent him scurrying to the Internet for two solid hours of research, and by the time he closed the last browser window he was nearly hyperventilating.

"Want to come to the mall with me?" he asked Drake, brandishing the credit card he'd managed to coax from his father. "I need to find a winter coat and some snow boots. Did you know the average annual snowfall in Michigan is like six feet --"

"Can't," Drake said, his eyes glued to the television. He shoved a handful of cheese balls in his mouth. "I'm busy."

After about a week of dithering back and forth, Josh finally decided he had to start getting it together. Drake sat in silence on his bed with his chin in one hand, watching as Josh manhandled a set of enormous powder-blue suitcases up from the garage.

"You're not using those," Drake said, his tone dripping with disdain as Josh lifted the largest of the cases on to his bed.

"Yeah, I am. Why?"

"Because." Drake's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "They're so lame!"

Josh turned slowly to face Drake. "These used to belong to my mother."

"Okay," Drake said, flapping his hands and making a scornful face. "If you want to look like a huge nerd. It's not like it's going to take people long to figure that out anyway, are you sure you want to tip them off about it the very first minute you're there?"

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of icy water in Josh's face. He stared at Drake for a few long heartbeats, his lips clamped together so their trembling wouldn't give away the hurt. "Why are you being such a jackass?" he finally managed, his voice low and soft. "This is really hard for me, you know? I could really use your support."

Drake's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and his eyes grew wide and shiny. He looked away as he jumped off his bed. "I gotta go," he said, whipping his blazer off the back of the couch as he passed. "Trevor's expecting me."

They sat in silence at opposite ends of the kitchen table a few mornings later, each staring into his bowl of cereal as though it held the secret to eternal life. Josh sat with his head resting on his palm, poking disconsolately at a few soggy corn flakes floating in his bowl. One of them was shaped vaguely like a guitar pick, and with a surge of anger he pressed it to the bottom of the bowl with his spoon. It cried and begged for mercy, but he ignored its pitiful struggles and held it fast, grinding the spoon back and forth on top of it until he was sure it was dead. He felt his lips quirk into a triumphant smile as he pulled the spoon back; a second later the corn flake popped to the surface again, and he flung the spoon onto the table with a loud clatter. To his surprise, Drake tossed his own spoon down at the exact same moment, and they looked up at each other with narrowed eyes and grim expressions, their faces coloring.

Before either could speak the kitchen door swung open and Megan appeared, dragging a suitcase on wheels in behind her. Her blue and white backpack was over her shoulder. "Hey," she said, slipping the backpack off and piling it on top of the suitcase. "What's up?" She grabbed a banana off the top of the fruit bowl and peeled the skin back.

Her sudden presence quelled the urge to argue more effectively than Niagara Falls quenching a candle flame. Why give her the satisfaction? "Nothing," Josh replied, darting his eyes away from Drake.

"Where are you going?" Drake asked.

"Oh, I'm going to see my friend Jessica in Denver." She took a bite of her banana.

"Again?" Josh said.

"Yep. And this time Mom's taking me to the airport, so the LAPD is just going to have to handle it on their own if they have any problems."

"You ready, Megan?" The door swung open again and their mother hurried in, a set of keys jingling in her hand.

"Almost," Megan replied. "I just want to get a glass of milk."

"Okay, but hurry," Mom said. "Drake, Josh, would you take Megan's bags out to the car?" She dangled the keys in front of Josh's face, then dropped them into his outstretched palm.

"Sure," Josh said, at the same moment Drake said, "No."

Mom tilted her head and pursed her lips. "Drake," she said, a note of warning in her voice, and Drake gave an irritable sigh and shoved his chair back from the table. Josh was already on his feet. He was tempted to say it was okay, he could handle both bags on his own. They weren't very heavy, and one was on wheels, for criminy's sake, but people were always making things easy for Drake, and in any case he didn't want to be the one to breach the wall of silence that seemed to have sprung up between them. He grabbed the backpack and marched out with it, not waiting to see if Drake was going to follow him or not.

The grinding of plastic wheels on the driveway behind him gave Josh his answer. The SUV chirped and flashed its lights when he pressed the button to unlock the tailgate, and he pulled it open and stood back, arm upraised, as Drake hoisted Megan's suitcase into the back. He was about to swing the backpack in beside it when he looked down and noticed a small opening in the zipper's teeth at the top of the bag. A flash of green winked up at him through the gap.

All thoughts of their feud were forgotten at once. "Drake," he said, smacking his stepbrother in the chest with the back of his hand.

"Ow!" Drake sounded more surprised than hurt as he stepped back, rubbing at the spot where Josh's knuckles had landed. "What are you doing?"

"The notebook!" Josh thumped the book bag down on the SUV's carpeted interior.

"What? Where?" Drake said eagerly, crowding in against Josh's back.

"Right there," Josh said, pointing. He seized the zipper and started to tug it across, but it got stuck at the edge of the gap. "Oh man, the zipper's broken."

"Come on now, Megan." Their mother's voice drifted out from the front door, and they heard Megan's impatient voice in response. Drake grabbed at the zipper as well, and for a moment they both tried to wrestle the bag open, each mumbling and cursing the other under his breath.

Finally, Drake wrenched the backpack free of Josh's grasp. "Go head them off!" he hissed, giving Josh a violent push, and Josh stumbled and nearly pitched forward on to his face. The momentum carried him around the back of the car. When he had managed to right himself, he tried to affect a casual pose by leaning his elbow against the window and bracing his head on his hand. He plastered a wide smile on his face as his mother and Megan hastened down the driveway toward him.

"So, Mom," he said in a loud voice, and she stopped digging around in her purse and looked up at him in surprise. "Are you... uh... sure you have enough gas in the car?"

"I think so," she replied slowly, her expression morphing from surprise to confusion.

"That's good! Very good. Because... uh... it's a long trip, all the way out there to the airport. Isn't it."

His mother nodded, her forehead wrinkled. "Yes, I suppose it is."

"And the price of gas is just so crazy nowadays, you know?" Josh felt a bead of sweat tickling its way down the back of his neck. Megan was staring at him, which only made things worse. "It's gonna cost and arm and a leg just to get there."

"Josh, are you feeling okay?"

The back of the SUV dipped as Drake slammed the tailgate shut. "Uh, yeah," Josh said with an uneasy chuckle. Drake stepped up behind him, and Josh backed away from the car to hide Drake and whatever he might have in his hands from view. "I'm fine. Fine. Megan, you have a good trip now, you hear?"

"Yeah," Drake agreed, giving Megan a quick wave. "Have fun." Together, they stepped back and around their mother and sister, not showing their backs to them until the two confused women had turned away. Only then did they pivot on their heels and tear into the house, slamming the front door shut behind them.

Drake crashed through their bedroom door with a whoop that would have put a Sioux warrior to shame. "Yes!" he shouted, thrusting Megan's notebook into the air above his head. "We got it!"

"Yeah, we did!" Josh said, hooting with laughter, and this time Drake returned his high five.

"Oh, this is so awesome. We have totally got her now." Drake plopped down on the couch and stretched his legs out in front of him. "Okay," he said eagerly, flipping the notebook open. "You grab us a couple of sodas, and I will read you a story."

Josh pulled two cans of Mountain Fizz from the refrigerator and slid one across the table to Drake, then wedged himself into the space between Drake's feet and the arm of the couch.

"Here we go," Drake said as soon as Josh got comfortable. He looked down at the notebook in his lap. "'Boobs in Love, by DemonSis,'" he read. He cocked his head to the side and glanced up at Josh. "'DemonSis'? What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know," Josh replied, manipulating the tab on his soda can. "Unless Megan's using a pseudonym."

"A what?"

"A pen name. You know, like Mark Twain."

"Mark Twain wrote porn?"

Josh sighed. "No," he said, rolling his eyes. "Mark Twain did not write porn. C'mon, read it."

"Right. Okay. Here we go."

Boobs In Love

by DemonSis

Chapter 1

He was lying on his side in bed, looking down at the sleeping face next to him. The sun was shining on it and the closed eyelids were glowing and it looked peaceful. He might of called it beautiful if he'd been the kind of person who thought about things that way. But he wasn't. Especially not this morning, because all he could wonder about was if they'd made a huge mistake.

I wonder if this was a huge mistake, he thought. The night before had been really cool. He'd felt lots of amazing things he'd never felt before, but now he was feeling kind of weird about it. This feels kind of weird, he thought. But he felt good too, or at least some parts of him did.

It had taken them a lot of time to get to this point. A really long time. Too long. Drew Piper, he thought, you sure wasted a lot of time.

Drake stopped reading and frowned at the page in front of him. "Drew Piper," he said thoughtfully. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"Not sure," Josh replied. Something about the name seemed familiar to him, too. He pointed at the notebook. "Keep going," he said. "Megan's a pretty good writer, eh?"

Drake shrugged. "I guess."

The room was cold. Drew pulled the blanket up and moved closer to the person next to him. That helped a little. He tried not to wake the other person up, but it didn't work. Jerry's eyelids blinked opened and Drew kissed the tip of that pert little nose.

Drake's eyebrows drew together. "Jerry," he said. "That's a weird name for a girl."

The hairs on the back of Josh's neck started to prickle. "Uh, I don't think it is a girl," he said slowly.

"Sure it is. What else could it be?"

Josh swallowed hard. "A guy?"

"Yeah, right," Drake scoffed. "Megan's writing porn about two guys."

Josh cleared his throat. "Drake --"

"Just shut up for a second and you'll see. I don't know where you get these ideas, man."

"You're up early," Jerry said, grinning toothily.

Drew drew one hand down Jerry's chest to the stomach and slipped it into Jerry's underwear. "So are you," he said, wrapping his fingers around Jerry's --

"Oh, my God." Drake's eyes were round as saucers as he looked up at Josh.

"See? I told you!"

"Oh, my God!" Drake said again, bringing the notebook so close to his face his eyes nearly crossed. "No, no, no, this can't be right. Jerry's got to be a girl."

"How many girls do you know named Jerry?" Josh demanded.

"I don't know." Drake's eyes darted around the room as though the answer was hidden in one of the corners. "Jerry Hall," he said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Josh. "She was married to Mick Jagger."

"Yeah, great," Josh retorted. "You think she had something in her underwear that Mick could wrap his fingers around?"

"Oh, my God."

"Exactly."

Drake scanned the page in front of him again. "Wait a second," he said, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "Drew and Jerry?" He dropped the book into his lap and stared at Josh, the color draining from his cheeks. "Is that... is that who I think it is?"

Josh's stomach felt like it had the night they rode the Demonator. "Nah," he said, raising one shoulder in an attempt at an indifferent shrug. "It can't be."

"What was Drew's last name?" Drake said, snatching up the book again and riffling through the pages.

"Blake. So it can't be them. This Drew's last name is Piper." Josh breathed a gusty sigh of relief.

"And this Jerry's last name is... Nettles," Drake said, tapping one of the pages with his index finger. "The other Jerry's last name is Polk."

"So it's not them."

"Nope." Drake chewed his bottom lip until it glistened. "Drew Piper still sounds really familiar, though. I wish I could remember where I've heard it be--" He stopped in mid-sentence and took a deep breath. "Wait a second. What are their last names on the show?"

"I don't know."

"Well, go check!" Drake said, his voice rising to a squeak. He pointed to the computer, and Josh jumped up as though the couch cushions were swarming with fire ants.

The next ice age came and went while the computer booted up. Drake mumbled non-stop while the hard drive whirred and Josh drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk. "Oh, this is unbelievable," Drake whined. "Now Drew's got his tongue in Jerry's mouth. Ew. Oh ew, they're giving each other a handjob." The computer was finally ready to go, but it took another month and a half for the browser to open. "Oh, my God, now they're sucking each other's dicks!" Drake threw the notebook on the floor. "I can't read any more of this. How does Megan even know about this kind of stuff?"

A few clicks of the mouse, and Josh had pulled up the information he sought. His heart sank as he started to read. "'Drew Piper and Jerry Nettles are two guys with different personalities. Really different.'" Josh licked his dry lips. "'Going to the same school is about the only thing they have in common --'"

"Stop," Drake said. "That's enough." Josh turned in his chair and found himself at eye level with Drake's crotch. He hadn't even heard Drake come up behind him. He dug his heels into the floor and shoved the chair backwards. "This is just great," Drake continued, running his fingers distractedly through his hair.

"Hey, at least she's not writing about the Drew and Jerry we know. Knew. Know." Josh scratched his head. "Not really."

"Yeah, that's just great," Drake replied, starting to pace. "She's writing porn about two fictional characters. Not only that, she's writing porn about fictional characters who are both guys. What kind of sick mind does that?"

"C'mon, don't be so hard on her." Josh ducked his head barely in time to avoid getting smacked by Drake's elbow. "She's a kid. It's probably just a phase. Or... or maybe she's writing it for English class."

"Oh, my God!" Drake stopped in his tracks and stared at Josh, his eyes wide with horror. "You don't think --"

"Yeah, no, forget I said that," Josh said quickly, spreading his hands. "I'm sure she's not going to show it to anyone else. Who'd be interested?" He tried to laugh the idea off but the words sounded hollow, even to his own ears. Megan never did anything that wasn't ultimately designed to attract other people's attention. From the look on Drake's face, Josh could tell he wasn't buying it, either. "So, what should we do now?" he rushed on before Drake could get a chance to think. That didn't happen often, but when it did it always made things worse. "Wanna show this to Mom and Dad, get Megan in some trouble? That's what this whole thing was about, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." Drake's eyes skirted the notebook and he wrinkled his nose as though it smelled of skunk and horseshit mixed together. "I don't know about this any more, man. It'd get Megan in trouble all right, but it could also give Mom and Walter a heart attack if they knew."

"Oh, come on. It's not that big a deal. It's no worse than you watching that porn flick with the two girls."

The moment the words were out of his mouth Josh regretted them. He'd only seen that expression on Drake's face once before, the time Drake had been too impatient to wait for the chicken to finish cooking and had spent the night hugging the toilet. "You don't think --" Drake broke off with a huge swallow, and Josh made a grab for the garbage can. "You don't think she's actually getting off on this stuff, do you?"

"I don't -- I'm sure she's... well, maybe." Josh's voice trailed off as Drake sucked in a breath. "No," he said firmly. "Of course not."

Drake threw his hands up in the air. "This is too weird for me, man," he said, backing away. His feet got tangled in one another as he tripped up the stairs. "I can't deal with it right now." Josh winced as the door banged shut and then bounced open again. Drake's footsteps were like pistol shots as he barreled down the steps.

Chapter 7

Drew's brown eyes met Jerry's blue orbs and they locked. A tear leaked out of the one on Jerry's left. "Don't" the cinammon haired boy begged, brushing it away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to be like this."

"I know," Jerry answered. "It's just so hard to see you with girls when all I want is to be with you all the time. How come they get to kiss you in public and I don't?" he pouted.

"I want to kiss you right now," Drew responded. "I want everyone and everything to know how I feel about you."

"How do you feel about me?" Jerry questions softly.

Drew gave a sad smile. "You know I'm no good talking about stuff like that," he objected. "Let me tell you this way instead." He pulled his saxophone out of it's case and played a sad, beautiful song that made a lump in Jerry's throat. "I wrote it myself," he informed him, locking the sparkling gold instrument back in it's case. "For you." He smiled, his eyes shining.

"It's really sad and beautiful," Jerry gulped noisily "but what does it mean?. You never say it. I want you to say it," he whispered. "I need you to tell me. How do you feel about me?

A sharp poke in the ribs startled Josh awake. "What's going on?" he shouted, sitting up so quickly his stomach muscles cramped. He blinked in the flickering light of the television screen, slumping back against the couch cushion when the shadow next to him took form. "Drake?"

"Oh, hi," Drake said casually. "You couldn't sleep?"

Josh swiped the drool from his chin with two fingers. "How long have you been sitting there?" he asked with a yawn. A quick glance at the clock showed it was a few minutes past midnight.

"Just got here," Drake said, and he if hadn't been wearing his pajamas and clutching a can of Mocha Cola dripping sweat from the heat of their room, Josh might have believed it.

He ignored the lie and rubbed at the tender spot on his side. "Where'd you go?"

"Driving."

"All this time?"

"Yeah."

Josh had more he wanted to say, but judging from Drake's apparently unbreakable concentration on the TV screen now wasn't the time. They watched David Letterman's monologue together in silence. This wasn't such an unusual thing; they watched TV together in silence all the time. But this wasn't their usual companionable silence, the kind easily broken by an offhand comment or inane joke that would have them both in hysterics. This silence felt thick and strangely loud, and the longer it went on the more oppressive it became. Josh cleared his throat and it sounded like a lion's roar in the stillness. Drake flinched.

"You okay?" Josh asked softly, and when Drake turned his head and nodded Josh could see the pulse point fluttering in Drake's neck. His heart was running like a train. "You sure?"

Drake plunked the soda can on top of Megan's notebook, which was lying face down on the table at Josh's feet. "You read it?"

Josh could feel his cheeks growing warm as he nodded. It felt like the body language equivalent of confessing a mortal sin.

"All of it?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, as much of it as there is. It's not finished."

"And?"

Josh shrugged. "It's... I guess it's okay."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean... it's not just sex, you know? There actually isn't much of that in there at all. It's about... it's about them. The two of them. Their relationship." Josh looked down at his hands twisting in his lap. "It's actually kind of sad."

Something warm brushed the edge of Josh's leg, and when he glanced in that direction he could see the plaid pattern of Drake's pajama bottoms out of the corner of his eye. "Why's it sad?" Drake asked.

"Because," Josh said. "They're like... in love, or something. With each other. And they can't talk about it, or even admit to it to themselves. Because, well... you know." He sighed. "I don't know, it made me feel bad for them." He raised his head slowly. Drake was sitting so close now Josh could feel Drake's chest expand against his side when he took a deep breath. "Can you imagine what that must be like?" he said softly.

Letterman's audience laughed, an odd counterpoint to the intensely serious look Drake was giving him, as though he'd never seen Josh before and wanted to memorize his face so he could draw a picture of it later. He inched closer still, until the pressure of his leg against Josh's forced him to draw his knees together to make room. This time when Drake's bangs fell into his eyes Josh didn't curb the temptation to reach out and brush them away. He let his fingers linger in Drake's hair, carding back through it until his palm was cradling the back of Drake's head.

"Maybe," Drake whispered. He leaned in close, his lips slightly parted and glistening in the half-light. Josh would never be sure if he dragged Drake's head closer or if Drake moved in on his own, but the instant Drake's lips touched his Josh decided it really didn't matter. The Late Show band started to play as Drake first kissed one corner of Josh's mouth, then the other and back again, as though he couldn't decide which side he wanted more. His lips were surprisingly soft, his touch surprisingly tentative, and for a moment Josh almost felt cheated. He'd seen Drake kiss dozens of girls more aggressively than Drake was kissing him now. His heart was beating hard enough to feel the vibrations throughout his whole torso, but he ignored the flutter of nerves and pulled Drake closer, tilting his head so Drake's mouth met his full-on. Drake drew in a sharp breath through his nose and lunged, and in the blink of an eye Josh found himself with a lapful of squirming stepbrother.

The squirming wasn't helping. Or rather it was, but in all the wrong ways. Drake's crotch was flush against Josh's, heavy and blood-warm, and Josh felt the pressure starting to pool in his own groin as Drake rubbed against him.

A quick stab of fear made his stomach clench. "Wait," he managed, twisting his face away from Drake's. "Maybe we should stop."

"No no, it's cool, it's cool," Drake said breathlessly. With a quick jerk of the hips he slid forward on Josh's thighs and pressed up hard against him, and Josh lost his protest to a gasp of surprise.

"Yeah, okay," he said, swallowing thickly, cupping his hands around Drake's ass and pulling him in even closer. Drake dropped his head and slid his tongue between Josh's teeth, hands smoothing down the front of Josh's T-shirt as though searching for breasts that didn't exist, fingers twisting in the fabric over the stiff nipples he found instead. He was grinding against Josh now, tilting his hips backward on the downward stroke to increase the leverage when he slid back up, and it didn't take long before Josh began to feel the familiar anticipatory buzz coiling around the base of his spine.

"Drake, I'm gonna -- Oh, God..."

"Josh, Josh," Drake whispered, his lips tickling the side of Josh's neck, "it's okay, man, let it go." He was shivering against Josh's chest, his breath hot and damp against Josh's ear, and with a strangled groan Josh clamped his hands on Drake's ass and held him fast, bucking frantically beneath him until a burst of wet heat between their bellies left him wheezing.

Josh let his head flop down onto the back of the couch, blowing great puffs of air like a winded runner. Drake's teeth were still tugging at his earlobe. He sat without moving until his heart rate had nearly returned to normal and the mess on his stomach had cooled to an uncomfortable degree, then cracked one eye open. Lindsay Lohan was laughing at one of David Letterman's jokes. Reality hit Josh between the eyes like a hollow-point bullet.

"What -- what just happened?" he said hoarsely, straightening up and making a reluctant attempt to push Drake off his lap. Drake, however, was having none of it.

"Don't overthink it, Josh." His lips tickled the shell of Josh's ear. "Sometimes shit just happens. Besides." He nudged his pelvis forward so Josh could feel his lingering erection. "It's not over. I didn't get mine yet."

"Drake -- "

"C'mon, Josh," Drake wheedled, his tone bordering on a petulant whine, "you can't just roll over and go to sleep on me now." He slid off Josh's lap and grabbed one of his hands, trying to yank him up off the couch. "C'mon," he said again, nodding toward Josh's bed. "Please?"

A paper towel commercial was trying to convince them a couple of wet sheets were strong enough to lift a bowling ball. Josh fumbled in the cushions to find the remote and turned the TV off before letting Drake pull him to his feet.

"So I guess you're okay with this now, eh?"

Drake stopped teasing the hair on Josh's belly and looked up. "What are you talking about?"

"You know. Megan and her story, the whole Drew and Jerry thing. You're okay with all that now."

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh, nothing really," Josh said sarcastically. "Though the fact that we were up half the night screwing around might have something to do with it, I suppose."

"I can see where that might give you the wrong impression."

"Seriously, Drake," Josh said, dropping his arm around Drake's shoulders and pulling him closer. "What made you change your mind?"

Drake propped himself up on his forearms so he could look Josh in the eye. "Well, I guess..." He stopped and looked away, apparently lost for what to say next, and it occurred to Josh that he'd never seen Drake so unsure of himself. It was a long time before he started to speak again. "Yesterday when I was out driving around, I got to thinking. Don't say it!" Drake said, cutting off Josh's smart ass retort before he had a chance to blurt it out. "C'mon, I'm serious here. I got to thinking about Drew and Jerry and how they're... well... us. You know? The cool guy and the nerd, the musician and the magician, the guy who gets all the hot girls and the doofus who dates the horrible evil bitch no one else can st --"

"Okay, I get it," Josh said, smacking the top of Drake's head.

"Anyway. They're us. And I got to wondering what it would be like. You know, if we... did... what they were doing." Drake sighed and dropped his head back down onto Josh's shoulder. "I know, I know, it sounds totally fucked."

"No," Josh said. "It doesn't." He petted Drake's hair, pulling at it gently and letting it slip from his fingers a few strands at a time. "It makes perfect sense. I was thinking the same thing as I was reading it. I mean, I understood just how the Jerry in the story felt. Because... well." He wanted to say more, but his tongue suddenly felt three sizes too big and the only words he could conjure to explain what he meant felt completely inadequate. He turned his head and brushed Drake's forehead with his lips. "Just because," he said finally.

Drake craned his neck backwards so their mouths could meet. "Yeah," he whispered, tugging gently at Josh's lower lip with his teeth, "I know," and when he slid his tongue across the spot to soothe away the tingle the nip had left behind, Josh knew they both understood what the other was trying to say.

"I'm sorry I said that stuff about your suitcases," Drake said later, spooning up against Josh's side.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I called you a jackass."

"Yeah, that was a bit of an overreaction."

"Hey!"

"Fine, forget I said anything."

"It's your fault anyway," Josh grumbled, kicking at the sheets tangled in a knot around their feet. "You kept acting like you didn't care about anything I was doing."

"Maybe I just didn't want you to know how much it sucks to see you getting ready to go to school halfway across the fucking country, did you ever think of that?"

Josh snapped his mouth shut. He'd almost forgotten he'd be leaving in a few days. "Oh. Yeah," he said, a hollow ache opening up in his belly. He felt homesick already, and Drake was still right there next to him. "And I guess I don't really want to leave. That's why it's been so hard to pack."

"So what are we going to do?" Drake couldn't meet Josh's eye. He was staring at the wall as though he expected the answer to all of their problems to be written there in red paint.

"Hey," Josh said hoarsely, shrugging the shoulder under Drake's head until Drake was forced to look up. "We'll work something out. Okay?"

Drake nodded, his expression softening. "Yeah, okay."

"I'll be home for all of the holidays. And Spring Break. And the summer. Plus, you can always come out and visit me. It'll be cool, I promise." Josh wasn't sure which one of them he was trying harder to convince.

"Yeah," Drake said again, and a devilish twinkle lit his eyes. "And hey, in the meantime, we still have Megan's notebook. What do you say we give it to Mom and Walter after work tonight, so they have plenty of time to decide on her punishment before she gets home?"

"Deal," Josh said, grinning. He looked at the clock. "That gives up about nine hours. What d'you want to do to pass the time?"

Drake's smile made Josh's heart skip a beat.

"Hey, I just got an IM from Megan."

Josh stopped scrubbing his wet hair with the towel and dropped it on his bed next to the pile of clean sheets. "I thought you were going to make the bed," he said, finger combing his hair.

"I will. Eventually. Maybe."

"Drake, you promised. Mom and Dad will be home any minute now."

"I wanted to play some Boomstick. Besides, it's your bed."

Josh sighed. "Fine," he said, snatching the top sheet off the pile and unfolding it. "What does Megan want?"

"She sent me a link." Drake clicked away with the mouse as Josh tucked one corner of the mattress into the sheet. "To some site called . She says to read the bottom of the page." Josh stretched the sheet around a second corner and was just pulling it tight when a cry of alarm startled him so badly he nearly planted his face in the middle of the mattress. "Oh, my God, Josh! Get over here! You have to see this!"

Josh hurried across the room and bent low over Drake's shoulder. Drake was pointing at the computer screen with one shaking finger.

"I'm really sorry I said that stuff to you," Drew said.

"It's OK. I'm sorry I called you a jackass," Jerry replied.

"Yeah, that was kind of an overreaction," Drew responds.

"Hey!" Jerry yelped.

"Fine, forget I said anything" Drew answered.

"It was all your fault anyway," Jerry insisted. "You acted like you didn't give a shit about anything I was doing."

"Maybe I just didn't want you to know how much I hate to see you getting ready to go to school halfway across the country, did that ever occur to you?" Drew snapped.

Jerry bowed his giant head so Drew couldn't see the tears dripping down his cheeks. "And I don't really want to leave," he sobbed.

Drew patted him on the back and rubbed circles around his shoulderblades. "So what are we going to do?" Drew asked.

Jerry wiped his nose on his sleeve and was surprised when he look at Drew to see Drew's eyes were watering to. "Hey," Jerry grunted comfortingly, hugging his boyfriend close. "We'll work something out, OK?"

Drew gave him a sappy smile through his tears. "Yeah, OK," he said, hugging him back.

"What the hell is this?" Drake screamed. Josh couldn't seem to get his mouth to work; the best he could manage was a feeble sputter in response. The incoming message chime sounded again, and Drake clicked furiously to open the dialogue box.

Message from: DemonSis: its the last chapter of Boobs In Love. how do u like it?

"Oh, my God," Josh said. The room felt like it was tilting beneath his feet.

"You mean this is on the Internet?" Drake said, his voice squeaking like a thirteen-year-old in the middle of puberty. His face was whiter than a sheet as he turned toward Josh. "I thought you said she'd never share this with anyone else! That no one else would ever be interested!"

"How was I supposed to know?" Josh demanded. He gulped in a few deep breaths of air, but before he could say anything more the computer's chime rang again, and kept ringing as more of Megan's IM bombs poured in.

Message from: DemonSis: of course its on the intrnet

Message from: DemonSis: in fact its one of the most popular stories in the d&j fandom

Message from: DemonSis: i had massive writers block & u boobs really helped me out these past few days

Message from: DemonSis: i've got enough material now 2 write a whole series. THX!!!!!!! :D :D :D

Josh's heart sank down into his feet. "She -- " He swallowed against the dry lump rising in his throat. "She must have this room bugged," he said. "Again."

The incoming message bell chimed again.

Message from: DemonSis: of course I do

For a few long moments, neither Drake nor Josh spoke. The air in the room was so thick with tension Josh felt like he could break chunks of it off in his hands. He could practically feel Megan gloating all the way from Denver.

"Josh," Drake said under his breath, not turning his head. "We are so fucked."

A car door slammed outside before Josh could answer. He straightened up and glanced quickly out the window. "Mom and Dad are home," he said. "What are we going to do? We thought we were going to get Megan in trouble, but now we're the ones who are going to -- " He broke off abruptly as his stomach started to churn. The thought of spending his last few days at home under the dark cloud now threatening to burst over their heads was unbearable. Drake's fingers were trembling on the mouse as he quickly closed the browser window, and Josh crossed his legs against a sudden, overwhelming urge to pee.

The chime rang one last time just as the front door slammed and Mom's voice calling "We're home!" floated up the stairs.

Message from: DemonSis: don't worry so much, boobs. i wont tell if you won't tell......

The End