--

Hey, Brother: Part Three

--

Mindy calls a few days before Christmas. Drake nearly drops the phone.

"Why didn't you tell me he was getting married, you dolt?! Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? Did you not think this was information worthy of sharing?!"

"Uh, hello to you too, Min," Drake says. "And…what?"

"Josh is getting married?"

"Yeah." Drake leans against the fridge. "Don't remind me. How'd you find out?"

"I ran into someone from high school, and I looked up the announcement on the internet," Mindy replies. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to," Drake replies honestly. "Why do you care?"

"I…I don't."

"Okay, then." Drake can see Wanda in the living room, chattering away about something to Megan, who looks about two seconds away from a felony. He feels a bubble of something in his chest and blurts out something before Mindy can hang up. "Where are you right now?"

"At – at work," Mindy says, sounding a little surprised.

"Yeah?" Drake hops up on the counter, brow furrowed slightly. "What's it mean exactly, to be a resident? What's the difference between that and a real doctor?"

"I am a real doctor," Mindy says irritably, then backtracks. "Wait – did you just ask me a genuine question?"

"Maybe."

"Uh…"

"Look," Drake says quietly, hissing into the phone. "I know this is the weirdest thing to happen to you since…you failed gym class, or whatever, but I'm stuck in a house with 'honey bear' and his fiancé from hell, and I'm crawling out of my skin here, and I could really use a distraction, okay?"

"A distraction," Mindy repeats flatly.

"Just…explain to me about this resident thing," Drake says, letting his head hit the cupboard behind him with a 'thump.' "And don't think about it too much."

There's a long pause, and Mindy inhales softly. "Fine. I suppose I could do my good deed for the day."

"Wonderful," Drake sneers, but settles in on the counter anyway.

Mindy's got a drawl that could make Alan Rickman wince, but after Wanda's pointed inflections, it feels wonderful to have someone he's completely free to snap back at. He hangs up after twenty minutes or so, when Mindy's break ends, and when Josh brushes past him to join Wanda in the living room, it doesn't even faze him. Well, maybe a little. But just a tiny bit.

He continues his conversations with Mindy over the next few weeks, finding himself dialing her cell phone whenever his skin starts to crawl and the urge to run and jump out of the nearest window becomes too great. He finds her to be actually pretty easy to talk to, aside from the whole constantly insulting him thing, and it isn't like he isn't insulting right back.

Josh starts to become suspicious, what with the sudden absence of Drake's dates along with the cell phone that's become attached to his person, but Drake dodges his questions as best as he can.

"So who is she?" Josh keeps asking, and Drake almost wants to tell him, just to see the look on his face. He doesn't though, because these sudden urges to hurt Josh in any way he can are freaking him out more than a little.

It isn't like Drake doesn't know what's happening, exactly, it's more like…he doesn't want to think about it. His relationship with Josh has always been one of those things, just…the way it is, like Megan being mean and Walter being goofy and his mom being girly and overprotective. Drake can't remember a time when he didn't relate practically everything in his life back to Josh in some way, and now the idea that Josh maybe doesn't do the same is heartbreaking in a way that Drake just doesn't want to deal with. As in, at all.

The longer Drake stays in the house with Wanda and Josh, the itchier he gets. He stops sleeping as much and eating becomes a chore. He goes out to clubs and stays out until the break of dawn, crashing into the guest bedroom minutes before the rest of the house rises for school and work.

Of course, the first person to call him on it is Mindy.

"Do you really think that you're going to get anyone to feel sorry for you this way?" she snaps, forgoing a hello.

Drake scowls. Mindy's voice on the end of a phone line has been his alarm clock for the past three days, and it's really getting old. "What are you babbling about?"

"Josh called me," she replies bluntly.

Drake's stomach drops to his knees and he leaps out of bed, subsequently getting his legs tangled in the sheets and propelling him forward, crashing into the floor. He fumbles for the phone, hearing Mindy's tinny voice bitching, and finally gets it to his ear while still crumpled in a pile on the carpet. "He what?"

"What the hell did you do? Drop the phone?"

Drake tries to free himself from the bedspread and fails, foot getting caught in a pillowcase. "Uh, yeah, we'll go with that."

"He called me," Mindy repeats. "Or he tried to, anyway. He must've went through your call history – anyway, he left a message on my voicemail."

"He – he knows that – that we – "

"No, idiot," Mindy snaps, irritated. "I didn't pick up. And I don't have a personalized voicemail message, just one of the automated ones with the phone number."

"Oh yeah." Something else registers in his head and he blinks, scooting backwards and dragging the rest of the blankets from the bed with him. "What did he say?"

"He babbled a bit about secret girlfriends and…someone named Wendy? Or something. I don't know. The gist of it is that he's either really worried about you, or really nosy. Probably both."

"I can't – " Drake sputters, shaking his head. "I can't believe he'd call you. Without knowing who you are, I mean. That's so…" like him, he thinks. Annoyingly genuine. Damn it!

"I can only guess that you've been drowning yourself in alcohol and…tarts, lately," Mindy sniffs. Drake rolls his eyes and props the phone between his ear and shoulder, concentrating on freeing himself from his blankety prison. "And by 'tart,' I am not talking about dessert."

He finally disentangles himself, hopping to his feet and searching around for his clothes. "You know it's – Jesus Christ, it's seven am here, Mindy."

"It's seven am here too, moron," Mindy snaps. "We're in the same time zone."

"I thought you worked in the mornings," Drake mumbles, finding an errant pair of jeans buried beneath one of his amps.

"Christmas is this Thursday," Mindy replies. "I've got a whole week off." She sounds vaguely angry about this. "Stupid labor laws."

"You're such a freak," Drake says carelessly, tripping over a power cord and nearly nose-diving into his dresser.

There's a pause. "Look," Mindy says, in her 'I'm trying really hard not to throw something' voice. "I don't know what it is that's going on with you, but I'd rather you not drink yourself into a coma. I really don't have time to attend a funeral right now."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Drake says. "Are you…expressing emotion? Emotion that maybe, sort of means that you possibly kind of…like me?"

"I'm a doctor," she says quickly. "It's in my nature to make sure that…you know, people don't die. You shouldn't read into it anymore than that."

"Damn. You don't have to be so harsh, my heart is fragile, you know."

"Well," she replies crisply. "Thanks for that. Now I've done my part, this conversation can end now."

"You don't wanna chat with me anymore?" Drake said, feigning a pout. "I so look forward to it. Highlight of my day, really." He hears a click and the dial tone reaches his ear. He flips his phone shut and groans, shaking his head.

Close call. Too close.

--

There's this tradition that Audrey and Walter started right after they were married – ice skating. Every year around New Year's Eve, they dig out all the barely-used winter jackets and haul everyone off to the indoor skating rink by the boardwalk, always promising 'loads of fun' and hardly ever delivering.

Drake has never enjoyed this particular tradition, since every year basically consists of all of them stumbling around and leaving with sore legs and sour moods (except Josh, of course, who calls it a wholesome callisthenic workout), but there's one reason that he's actually looking forward to it. That reason is Wanda – or rather, the lack of Wanda.

"I have allergies," she whines. "Couldn't we…go rollerblading instead?"

"But…it's tradition," Josh replies, looking wounded.

Drake grins. Josh loves traditions.

"Oh, just go without me, I'll only drag you down."

Josh looks torn between his excitement over ice skating and his guilt over leaving his fiancé behind. Drake scoffs, disgusted. "What are you allergic to, anyway? Ice?"

Mindy shoots him a glare, then seems to remember that Josh is in the room, and melts it into a smile. "Look, I'm fine, really. Go and have fun, Josh."

Josh relaxes and plops down beside her on the couch, goofy grin in place. "Okay, baby."

Drake looks away, gulping hard as they kiss. Baby is so much worse than honey-bear or sugar. So, so much worse.

The ice rink is just as Drake remembers it, even after a three-year or so absence. Rickety, old, slightly dangerous looking and…really dirty.

"Megan," Drake says. "Don't fall down out there. You might get pregnant." Audrey smacks him. "Ow!"

"Mom, this is gross," Megan complains. "Can't we just go see a movie or something? That's a bonding activity, and it doesn't involve any possibilities for communicable diseases."

Walter looks up from where he's lacing up his skates. "Come on, guys, what's with the gloom? This is gonna be fun!" He stands up and promptly falls back down to the bench, wobbling on the thin blades.

"This has to be illegal," Megan grumbles, wrinkling her nose as she puts her foot in an ice skate gingerly. "I could sue you, probably."

Josh is already out on the ice, making clumsy circles and laughing. "What's taking you slow pokes so long?"

Drake shoots a wary look at the mottled ice. "Are you sure this is safe? I know it's not sanitary."

"Come on, Drake." Josh gives him the eyes and before he can blink, Drake's skating after him. "Race ya to the other side!" and Josh is gone, laughing.

"Crap. Not fair!" It takes him a few seconds, but he gets the hang of it enough to half skate, half stumble over to where Josh is waiting, chuckling at him. Drake reaches out to grab the glass that lines the rink and glares. "Yeah, real funny."

"You'll get the hang of it." Josh starts skating backwards – backwards! – and grins, beckoning him with one hand.

"Oh no. I like it here by the wall. Walls are nice."

"What are you, chicken?"

Drake's eyes spark and he lunges, only to catch the front of his skate in a divot in the ice, causing him to topple forward onto his stomach. "Fu…dge." He can hear Megan giggling from the other side of the rink, and when he looks up at Josh, he can see a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not a word."

"Not a word. No words here!" Josh grabs his arm and tugs him up, causing him to stumble slightly into Josh's chest. Drake blinks for a moment, stunned, then immediately wrenches back, a tremor racing down his skin. "You're doing fine," he hears an unfazed Josh assure him.

"Uh…yeah." Drake runs a wobbly hand through his hair and turns to skate back toward the wall, even shakier than he had been before. "Look, you can go and skate your heart out, dude, and I'll stay here and map the wall for awhile."

Josh pouts slightly, but Drake ignores him, resting against the wall momentarily. He looks down at his feet and sees Josh skate away, back towards their family, out of the corner of his eye.

He keeps one hand on the wall and pushes forward, trying to get used to the feel of it. He takes his hand away experimentally and immediately tips to the side, causing him to reach out for the wall again. He looks over at Josh and the others, feeling slightly relieved that Megan doesn't seem to be faring any better than he is. That's something, at least.

He looks over at Josh again, who is skating circles around his father, laughing loudly. His head is thrown back and his cheeks flushed from the artificial chill in the stadium. His hair curls over the back of his jacket, which is at least two sizes too small, since he hasn't actually worn it in about five years or so.

Drake takes a deep breath and slowly lets his gaze travel down the length of Josh's body, all lean muscle and long limbs. His mouth waters and his eyes glaze over slightly, warmth sweeping over his body and settling in his abdomen. He lets out a long, trembling breath and grabs at the wall, feeling light-headed.

Josh suddenly looks over and catches Drake looking, causing his cheeks to instantly flame. But Josh just shrugs and sends him a grin, turning and zooming so close to Megan in a sudden burst of speed that she shrieks and tips over. Drake laughs a little, a prickly feeling behind his eyes.

His phone buzzes on his hip and he practically jumps out of his skin, fumbling to keep his balance on the unfamiliar ice skates. He grabs at it and pulls it from his coat, seeing Mindy's number on the display.

Crap.

"Uh, it's my manager," he calls, waving his phone. Josh waves at him, and Audrey nods, hands and arms occupied from hanging on for dear life to Walter's arm. Megan is floundering by the wall and ignores him. He slides back, keeping to the wall, barely managing to make it back to solid ground without falling again.

He stumbles over, incredibly awkward in the skates, and manages to make it to the edge of the carpeted area, collapsing on a bench. He flips his phone open, out of breath and scowling. "Hello?"

"What took you so long?" she demands.

"I'm kind of busy right now," he shoots back. "Did you need something from me or what?"

"I'm in town right now," she says. "For New Year's. Can you come over?"

There's a harsh, jagged quality to her voice that gives him momentary pause. For all their conversations, they never really discussed anything meaningful, but Drake isn't completely oblivious (shut up) and he knows that something big's going down in her life right now. Why else would she waste time on him, Drake wonders. The only possible explanation is that she's at least a little screwed up.

He shoots a look over his shoulder at his family, laughing as they fail spectacularly at skating. He should be out there with them right now, but there's a barrier between him and them that wasn't there before, an invisible line that he didn't know he'd been crossing. He catches sight of Josh, pulling Megan around by her hands, and a bolt of unexpected anguish makes him gasp, feeling the line of fire race across his chest, choking him momentarily.

"Where are you staying?" slips out of his mouth, and he winces.

"The Embassy, downtown, south of Sixty-third."

"Gimme a little bit. I'll be there soon."

--

It takes him a little bit to convince Audrey and Walter to let him leave. He knows his mother is feeling nostalgic with the anomaly of everyone living at home once more, but he has spent the past three months at home, more or less non stop. He makes up some story about some party or another and escapes, dodging questions from Josh and suspicious glances from Megan.

Mindy's waiting for him in the lobby when he gets there, curled up on a couch with her legs tucked beneath her. She looks remarkably and uncharacteristically disheveled, her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail and dressed in a pair of ratty sweatpants with a large duster that hangs down below her knees. She doesn't smile, but she grabs his hand and clutches it tightly, dragging him into the bar in the hotel. She sits down at a booth and immediately drops her forehead to the table, groaning.

"Uh…Mindy?" Drake is taken aback by her demeanor, unused to her not being in control of the situation. "Hey. Mindy?"

She props her chin up in her hand. "How do you do it?"

"Do…what?"

"This." She gestures at him. "This…careless attitude you have about everything. I can't…I can't understand it." She shakes her head, perplexed.

"Uh, I'm a little lost myself."

"I mean it. How do you…force yourself to relax?" She clenches at the table's edge, and Drake notices for the first time how tired she looks. "I – I feel like there's this winch at the base of my spine, and there's some bastard winding and winding, and I can't – cannot – escape."

"Um." Drake tries to find a reply to that but comes up empty. "Winch?"

"A pulley. Like on a crane." Mindy corrects him without a touch of sarcasm or venom, and that's when Drake knows something's really wrong.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. Nothing." She puts her head back down on the table. "Life sucks," she moans into the ceramic.

"Yeah, it kind of does." He's still unsure of what to do, so he lays a hand on her neck, softly touching the skin below her hairline. Her muscles are rigid, and he frowns slightly, feeling her practically vibrating with tension. "Jesus, Mindy."

"I know," she moans.

"Is it work?" He finds a creeping sensation that feels vaguely like concern, and silently freaks out about it a little before moving his other hand to her neck, just keeping them on her skin lightly. "Something happened?"

She's silent for a moment. "No, work is fine," she says after a second, voice distant. "Everything's fine. I just – " she laughs harshly, without humor. "I think I'm having a nervous breakdown. I have all the symptoms."

"You can diagnose yourself?" Drake makes a quick decision and stands, moving to the other side of the booth and sliding in next to Mindy. He returns his hands to her neck, softly applying pressure to the muscles in her shoulders. "That seems a little strange. Conflict of interest or something."

She sighs a little. "I need to you help me," she practically demands, though the effect is muted with her being facedown still. "I need…to know how you do it."

"It's not like, a conscious thing," he says. "It's just…how I've always been. I don't really sweat the small stuff."

She gives a little groan. "That is completely and wholly unhelpful."

He lays his hands on the back of her shoulders, marveling at the sharp lines that make up her body. "Why did you call me, then?" he asks curiously. "You've got family here in town, right? Wouldn't they be more calming than me?"

"A tiger's more calming than you," she grumbles.

"My point exactly."

She moves her head to the side so she can peek up at him. "I don't know, okay? I'm…not myself right now."

"Obviously."

Her eyes fall shut. "Thank you for coming, anyway."

"Yeah, well." He thinks of Josh at home, probably with Wanda, and decides he doesn't regret leaving.

"I needed someone who doesn't know me," Mindy says. "You don't, not really."

"Can't argue with that." He looks down at her and sees how exhausted she is, and marvels for a second. Mindy Crenshaw, falling apart at the seams. "I think you should see someone. I mean, I'm not exactly an expert here, but you need some…Valium or something. I dunno."

She's quiet for another minute before sitting up, turning in the seat so one leg is propped up and they're face to face. "Look, I need you to do something for me," she says suddenly.

"Do I have a choice?"

She ignores him. "I need you to pretend," she says carefully, forming each word slowly and deliberately.

"Pretend what?"

"Anything." She sighs. "I just…need to not think, you know?" She closes her eyes momentarily and opens them again. "Can you help me with that?"

Not thinking sounds so incredibly blissful to Drake right now, and he agrees without thinking. "I can do that." She makes a hitching noise in her throat and kind of falls forward, slanting her mouth over his.

The kiss is almost affectionate and throws Drake for a loop momentarily. He starts to respond after a moment and feels something like compassion, bringing his hand up to her cheek and brushing down the length of her jaw.

And then freezes when he feels the shock of cold, smelly liquid being dumped all over his head.

Mindy and Drake jerk away from each other, sputtering. Drake blinks dumbly, wiping his face and realizes with a start that he's soaked in beer. "What in the hell…" he looks up and stops dead, every muscle in his body freezing in place.

Josh is standing over their table, eyes wide and looking as surprised as Mindy and Drake do. He's wearing some weird-looking vest and carrying an empty waiter's tray. Drake notices vaguely an empty glass on the table, rolling over and crashing onto the opposite seat.

"Josh," Mindy says, sounding a little stunned.

"I – you two – there's – the beer. I spilled the beer!" Josh sputters. "I can't – there's – there's rules, you know! Rules!"

"Rules?" Mindy repeats.

Drake opens his mouth to say something, but cannot form words. He just sits there, frozen, eyes glued to Josh, who is jerkily trying to mop up the spilled beer with the edge of his vest. "Yes, rules, about…about things, and you can't just – just ignore the rules!" Josh is still babbling. "It's just rude and unethical and wrong – wrong! Dirty, bad, and wrong!"

"Josh, did you just dump beer on us?" Mindy says, slowly coming to her sense. "And why on earth are you wearing a waiter's uniform?"

"I – I – "

"Josh," Drake finally manages. "Dude, listen – "

"No! No." Josh drops the tray on the table with a clatter, and the look on his face is like a punch to Drake's stomach. "Just…" he flails a little with his mouth open, before jerking slightly and striding away in the opposite direction.

"Oh my God," Mindy says. "That…" She shakes her head, leaving it unfinished. "I'm covered in beer. He dumped…beer on us."

"I…" Drake stares in the direction that Josh has gone, feeling as low and sick as he's ever felt in his entire life. "He must've followed me," he says numbly. "I was with him, before – and he's been curious, he called your cell…he thinks I have a secret girlfriend."

Mindy sighs. "And he saw us…well. It probably didn't exactly dissuade that theory."

Drake can barely hear her over the roaring in his ears. "I…I have to..." he doesn't finish the sentence, just rises and races off after Josh, brushing past the gaggle of waiters that are scurrying frantically over to the booth.

Josh is striding out of the doors in the lobby when Drake catches up to him, still in his waiter's vest. "Josh!" Drake calls, frantically grabbing at his arm. "Wait, wait. Just stop for a second."

Josh wrenches his arm away. "Rules!" he yells, and turns back toward the doors.

"I know, okay? I know. I'm sorry." Drake runs in front of Josh's path, causing him to veer off to the side. "It's not what you think!" Drake shimmies to the side, blocking his path again, and the two do an angry dodge-and-catch game, drawing the attention from more than a few people in the lobby. Josh finally growls and pushes past Drake to get outside, a storm brewing on his features. Drake takes off after him. "Josh, would you just listen to me?"

Josh shakes his head, muttering angrily beneath his breath. "I – "

"Josh, please."

"I really can't do this right now," Josh says angrily. "I need…to be away. Away from you."

Drake sucks in a breath, stung. "I – Josh, I'm sorry. I was gonna tell you." He jogs along the side as Josh storms through the parking lot of the hotel. "I was, really. I just – it happened so quick and I – and it was so weird and out of nowhere and – "

"And why didn't you?" Josh suddenly stops, causing Drake to almost crash into him. "Tell me?"

"I – I didn't want to hurt you," Drake says, realizing suddenly that he's never said anything more true in his life. "I never want to hurt you, ever." Josh scoffs and storms off again, tearing the vest off and throwing it on the ground. "Josh, wait!"

"Just…" Josh holds up a hand, flinching away from him and jogs over to his car, tearing the door open. "Not. Now."

Drake watches helplessly as Josh gets into the driver's seat and pulls the door open angrily, clumsily shutting his pant leg in the door, causing him to reopen and close it again. Josh pulls out of the space and tears out of the parking lot, leaving Drake in the dust, covered in beer and absolutely stricken.

He stands there and stares after his car for several minutes, unable to form any coherent thoughts. Suddenly he's sixteen again, soaking wet and staring through the door of his chemistry classroom, watching everything he's ever needed drift away, undeserving of the only constant good thing he's ever had. He stumbles and falls backward onto a parked car, wobbling on the ice, unable to keep from falling without Josh to hold him up.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels a hand on his arm and he whirls around, causing Mindy to jump back to avoid being smacked. "Sorry," he nearly shouts, blood pumping through his veins furiously. "Sorry."

"Is he okay?" she inquires calmly, shivering. They're both still soaked, and Drake can feel the bite of the breeze through his wet clothes.

"I have no idea," he says honestly. "I'm so stupid. So, so stupid. Of course he would follow me – of course. Stupid."

Mindy sighs, shaking her head. "It's not – I never should've called you." She bites her lip. "You should go talk to him."

"He's not – he doesn't want to talk to me," Drake says, his voice breaking slightly. "I – damn it."

Mindy is quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry," she says sincerely.

"It's – um." Drake pauses, thinking. "It's not your fault," he says slowly. "I – "

Mindy shrugs a little. "Just go, okay? You know you're going to."

"I – Mindy – "

She shrugs again. "I'll be fine." He narrows his eyes slightly. "I'm not an invalid – go find your brother. Moron."

He shakes his head, utterly unable to care anymore. "Thanks."

"Whatever."

--

Drake breaks every traffic law known to man driving home, only to find a Joshless house upon peeling into the driveway.

He does, however, find Wanda. And promptly wishes he hadn't.

"You," she fumes, as soon as he walks through the door. He blinks at her once, twice, and knows that he really is upset when he can't even laugh.

Wanda is covered – absolutely covered, head to toe – in glitter. Not just any glitter, but multi-colored glitter, too, and it shines and sparkles in the lights. It sticks to every inch of exposed skin and is threaded through her bundle of curly hair, and Drake knows instantly that she'll be combing that crap out of it for weeks. It's even all over her glasses, and she's wiping at them furiously with her shirt, which is covered in glitter as well and therefore is only making it worse.

"You…you did this," she spits. She pushes her glasses back on her face and glares, looking like an irate disco ball. "How dare you. When Josh finds out about this, you – you'll be sorry!"

Drake doesn't have the time or the energy for this, and he simply sighs, dropping his keys in the bowl. "No, I didn't," he says slowly, moving into the living room and collapsing on the couch.

"Like I can believe you!" Wanda stomps her foot, sending a cloud of glitter flurrying into the air.

Audrey rushes into the room, carrying a handful of towels. "I – I brought…washcloths!" she says, rather helplessly. "Oh, Drake, you're home, thank God. Wanda had an accident with the craft box." She gives a stifled laugh, quickly turning away when Wanda looks at her sharply.

"It exploded," Wanda hisses. "Literally. And like Drake doesn't already know."

Audrey sets the towels down on the table. "Wanda, surely you don't think that someone did this on purpose?" Wanda crosses her arms and seethes.

Drake sighs. "I didn't do it, okay?" he says tiredly. "I was out all night anyway. I haven't been home since this afternoon."

"Wanda, I'm sure it was just an accident." Drake leans his head back on the cushions, marveling at his mother. This has Megan written all over it. "Really. Now look, I'm going to get some warm water, and we'll wipe most of it off. I'll wash your clothes out in the yard, and we'll do our best with your…hair…" Audrey says weakly, stifling another grin as she looks up at Wanda's crazy mane, made even crazier by the sparkly glitter.

Wanda nods tersely and waits until Audrey leaves the room before turning to Drake. "Look, you little shit," she says fiercely. "I know you don't like me, and I don't like you either. But I'm going to marry Josh, no matter how many pranks you pull on me. So if you think this is gonna stop me, you've got another thing coming." She turns and flounces off in a dramatic exit, made significantly less by the trails of glitter that flurry around her with every movement.

Drake stares after her listlessly, unable to feel anything other than exhaustion.

"Nice, right?" He turns to see Megan sauntering into the room, satisfied grin firmly in place. "I debated between glitter and spaghetti sauce, but I think I made the wiser choice."

"Glitter's much more annoying," Drake agrees in a monotone.

Megan collapses next to her brother. "So you're pathetic," she says. "And you reek. You shouldn't let Mom whiff you, she'll pound into you for drinking."

"I wasn't drinking," Drake says fruitlessly. Megan shrugs.

She turns to look at him after a moment. "She won't last, you know. Honestly."

"You didn't hear her?" Drake turns to look at her sullenly. "I'm a little shit, and I've got another thing coming."

"Yeah, whatever." Megan rolls her eyes. "It's up to Josh more than her."

"I think he really cares about her, Meg."

"Uh huh." Megan looks unmoved. They sit in silence for a moment, both of them listening to Wanda talking shrilly to Audrey, down the hallway in the bathroom. "He'll be back soon," Megan finally says, quietly.

Drake turns to look at his sister, who looks back evenly. He laughs a little, without humor. "Whatever you say."

--

Drake retreats to the guest room – which he still doesn't think of his, not really – to hide, basically. He feels numb, a combination of weariness, anger, regret and guilt overloading him until all he wants to do is crawl up in a hole and forget that people named Josh Nichols or Mindy Crenshaw even exist. He collapses into bed, desperately wanting to shower and wash the stink of alcohol away, but not wanting to brave the glittered-Wanda-infested bathroom.

He doesn't know exactly how long he lays there, or what time it is when he finally stops hearing Wanda's faint voice, bitching through the walls, or the sounds of Audrey, Megan and Walter moving around. He remembers apathetically that it's New Year's Eve, and probably past midnight at this point. He knows that they probably had some sort of celebration planned, overridden by Wanda's glitter emergency, but he can't bring himself to care about missing what is basically a useless event anyway.

The house is quiet and Drake allows his mind to drift, halfway between awake and asleep. He goes from cursing Mindy's name to Josh's, to his own, and then back around again before finally forcing himself to close his eyes in a weak attempt to at least try and sleep.

At some point, he does drift off slightly, enough to be startled back into consciousness at the sound of his door opening. His first thought is that his mom is checking up on him and he groans. "Go away," he mumbles.

Whoever's at the door freezes, and Drake looks over, peering through bleary eyes. A lean, tall figure meets his eyes and Drake immediately sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "Josh."

"Hey, Drake."

"Oh God, man, I'm so glad you're here," Drake rambles, not really thinking about what he's saying. "I thought you hated me, and I – man, I'm – I'm so relieved that you – "

"Drake, stop," Josh says gently. He hesitates a little, then comes into the room and shuts the door behind him. "We need to talk."

"I know. I know, man." Drake blinks a little and sits up, scooting up to lean against the headboard. "Listen, I am so sorry I didn't tell you about Mindy, but – but it wasn't what you think it was. Honestly." Josh is silent, moving over to sit on the bed gingerly. "We had a…thing, on my tour. She lives in San Jose, she's a nurse or something. But she called me tonight, and she was feeling shitty and…that's all it was. It didn't mean anything else than that."

Josh stays quiet, picking at a thread on the bedspread. "I just don't understand why you wouldn't tell me," Josh says quietly. "I thought…"

"I – I didn't want to tell you because it didn't mean anything," Drake implores. "Really, dude. It was just…a frustration thing. She's got stuff going on, I've got…" he trails off.

"What?" Josh sighs shortly. "See? There, you're doing it again. Since when do you keep secrets? From me?"

Josh looks so earnest and hurt that Drake crumbles a bit inside. "I – I don't mean to keep it from you, I just – "

"It's not that you have a – a thing with Mindy," Josh says after Drake doesn't finish his sentence. "Really. Mindy and I have been over for a long time. It's just that – you know, it's common courtesy to tell a guy when you date his ex, no matter how long it's been. And it's like, double common courtesy to tell your brother."

Drake flinches. "I know, okay? I know."

"So…why, Drake? Why couldn't you tell me? Why don't you…tell me things anymore?" Josh bites his lip momentarily. "It's like you're this whole other person lately, and I can't figure out what's wrong with you." Drake stays silent. "Drake, come on. It's just me."

"I…" Drake can hardly speak past the huge lump in his throat. "Josh, man…" he says helplessly.

"What?" Josh inches forward slightly, laying a hand on Drake's knee.

Drake's eyes fall shut involuntarily at the touch, and he shudders. "Josh, please," he says. "Just…don't hate me."

"What?" Josh frowns. "Why would I – "

Drake cuts him off with his mouth, clenching his eyes shut tightly and moving without thinking. He feels Josh jerk in surprise, growing rigid, but he's too far too gone to stop now and he crawls over the bed, awkwardly keeping his mouth pressed against Josh's as he scoots over and throws his arms around Josh's neck, twisting his hands in the collar of the shirt he's wearing, desperately trying to get closer, closer.

Josh slowly, inch by inch, relaxes beneath Drake's touch, and his mouth opens hesitantly, shaking with nerves. Drake seizes the opportunity and crawls closer, sinking into Josh's warmth, his kindness and his light, surrounding himself with the quirk and the intensity and the innocence and everything that makes Josh Josh.

Drake hears a throaty moan that he realizes belatedly has escaped from his own throat, and suddenly feels strong hands on his thighs. It feels weird and new in a thrilling way and Drake scrambles to get closer, tighter, more. He hears a grunt and suddenly he's on his back with Josh on top, and a rush of heat renders him temporarily blind.

Josh pulls away slightly, gasping for breath, and Drake has the presence of mind to gather words. "Jahh – uheh, I – um." He closes his mouth abruptly and swallows. Well, he tried.

"Drake," Josh says, voice raspy. "Wait, wait."

"Mmm." Drake clears his throat, eyes glazed. "Wha'?"

"What are – you and I – "

Drake frowns and pulls Josh's head down again. "No," he manages and pulls him back into a kiss.

Josh responds for an agonizing few seconds before pulling away again. "Wait. Wait a minute."

"What?" Drake tries to scoot backwards slightly, but finds himself pinned by Josh's weight.

"I just – I need a minute." Josh looks down at Drake, face dark with lust, before shaking his head slightly and moving backwards onto his haunches. "We – we – "

Drake lays there and looks up at him, breathing heavily, air too thick. "Josh…"

"I – Wanda," Josh says suddenly. "And – and Mindy."

"No Mindy," Drake says incoherently, then clears his throat. "I mean, I'm not with Mindy."

"But you – "

"I told you it didn't mean anything."

"It sure looked like something," Josh grumbles.

"Josh," Drake says seriously. "It meant nothing. She's not even…" he lets out a frustrated breath, grappling for words. "Compared to…"

"Oh," Josh breathes.

"Yeah," Drake replies. "Oh."

"Well…" Josh leans forward slightly, then jerks backwards. "Wanda!"

"Wanda," Drake repeats flatly.

"I – " Josh shakes his head, trailing off. "This is crazy."

Drake feels something leaden in his chest. "Right," he says, clipped. Josh looks at him helplessly, confliction written all over his face, and Drake's heart lurches. "Wanda," he repeats. "Okay. It's okay."

"Drake…"

"No," Drake interrupts, forcing the words out. "I – you don't hate me right?" Josh shakes his head feverishly, eyes wide. "Then…then it's okay. You can – " Drake can't finish and he looks away, clenching at the bed sheets until his fingers turn white.

Josh's face falls. "I can – you don't care?"

"I care," Drake replies hotly. "Look. Just…you do whatever you have to do, okay? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." He knows he's lying, but the thing is that words tend to spill out of his mouth without his permission lately.

Josh flounders for a second, then tears off of the bed, jiggling his legs nervously and turning towards the door. "Oh. Oh, okay. Okay." He sighs shortly. "Okay."

"You said that already," Drake says dully.

"Well, it bears repeating," Josh replies defensively. "Everything's…okay. We're okay."

"Josh," Drake snaps.

"What?" Josh snaps back.

"Would you just go, already?" he bursts out. "Go back to your bedroom with your fiancé. I'm sure she could use the help combing the glitter out of her hair."

"Wha – glitter?" Josh frowns momentarily, then straightens up in anger. "You – what is the matter with you?"

"The matter with me?!"

"You – you're just lying there all…come hither, and…with those jeans," Josh spits. "And you're all sad and quiet and then all…" Josh makes a weird sputtery noise, waving his arms around in front of his face. "…and now you're all 'your bedroom! Your fiancé!' These are unfair mixed signals, sir!"

Drake stares at him incredulously. "You're insane," he finally says.

"And you're…a tease!" Josh falters. "Or something."

Drake folds his arms across his chest protectively. "Can you find your point and leave already? Go back to Wanda."

"Stop talking about Wanda!"

"Get out!" Drake throws a pillow at him angrily. "Just go, okay! Go!"

Josh catches the pillow and throws it back on the bed. "Fine. Just – fine." He scoffs angrily and turns on his heel, striding out of the bedroom. Drake collapses back on the bed, barely feeling the beginning of the hurt before Josh slams back into the room. "Oh-ho no, you're not pulling this crap with me!"

"What?" Drake says wearily. "Josh, I'm too tired for this."

"Well wake up, mister!" Josh grabs the pillow and throws it at Drake's head. "Idiot."

"Hey!"

"I'm really sick of this," Josh announces. "You're gonna tell me what's going on in your head, and you're gonna tell me now."

"My head hurts ever since you threw a pillow at it," Drake says sourly.

"That's not what I mean!"

"Well, I know that's not what you meant!"

"Well why don't you just say what you mean?"

"Because," Drake sputters. "Because you don't want what I want, and – "

"How do you know?!"

"Hello! Fiancé! Bedroom!" Drake waves his arms wildly. "Honey-bear!"

Josh scowls. "Avoiding the subject."

"Stop dragging this out."

"You won't tell me what you want because you're afraid that it's not what I want, even though you pretty much know what I want just as much as you know what you want – "

"Dude, stop," Drake commands. "My head is already sore."

Josh sighs angrily. "You're so – so stubborn!"

"You're so engaged," Drake mocks.

"Would you stop bringing up Wanda? I don't care about Wanda, I don't want Wanda – "

"Well what the hell do you want?!"

"I want you, you absolute moron – "

"Well, I want you too, you fucking happy now?" Drake bursts out, breathing heavily.

Josh stops and stares at him for a second before ducking his head and staring at the ground. "Drake," he starts.

Drake feels instant regret creep up on him. "Josh, listen – " Josh's shoulders are shaking. "Are you – what? What is it?"

Josh brings his head up and reveals a brilliant grin, and Drake realizes he's laughing. "You're such an idiot," Josh says in-between bursts of laughter, and he bends down to brace himself on his knees.

Drake stares at him, unimpressed. "I'm an idiot, yes," Drake says. "But you're a jackass."

"Maybe." Josh bursts into laughter again. "Oh man, Drake. Man. We're both idiots."

Drake collapses back onto the bed. "Can we take a breather, please?"

"Yeah." Josh flops down next to him, face down. "Why couldn't we have done this like, three years ago?"

"Because…we're stupid."

"Uh huh."

Drake lays back, turning to look at Josh in the dim light. "Josh, I really do – "

"Yeah, I know. Me too."

They lay in silence for a few moments, comfortable silence stretching between them.

"I have such a mess to clean up," Josh says quietly, breaking the quiet.

Drake bites his lip. "Me too."

"Yeah." Josh sighs. "We're okay, though."

Drake turns over on his side, laying his head on his arm. "Yeah," he says after a moment. "We're definitely okay." Josh moves his leg slightly so that it touches Drake's foot, and they both smile at the same time. "More than okay."

"Mmm."

"And," Drake says. "I'm gonna need my bedroom back."

Josh chortles. "I was waiting for you to ask."

--

End.