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The Parker-Nichols house was quiet, save for the faint hum of the TV in the living room. Josh sat on the couch, staring blankly at the screen, though he wasn't really watching. His thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in the confusing mess of emotions that had been plaguing him for months. Emotions that, unfortunately, had everything to do with Drake.
Drake had always been flirtatious. Hed flirted with just about every girl he'd ever met- with Josh as witness. But sometimes, there had been moments—little flashes of something—that made Josh question everything. The way Drake lingered when he hugged him, the playful teasing that felt just a bit too intimate, the winks that left Josh's heart pounding. It was maddening. Did Drake know what he was doing to him? Did he feel the same way, or was this all just some cruel game? Josh had no idea, and it was eating him alive.
Tonight had been one of those nights. Drake had invited a few friends over, and, of course, Josh had been roped into playing host. He didn't mind, not really. He was just happy to be included in Drake's plans for the night. But then Drake had started drinking. A lot. His laugh grew louder, his smile lazier, and his flirtation more reckless.
"Joshie," Drake had purred at one point, slinging an arm around his brother's shoulders. His breath smelled like cheap beer and something sweeter. "You know you're my favorite, right?"
Josh had tried to laugh it off, to play it cool, but his cheeks burned, and his heart ached. Why had God cursed him in such a way?
The party had wound down hours ago, and Josh had sent the last of Drake's friends stumbling out the door. Now, he sat alone, waiting anxiously for Drake to come down from his drunken stupor. He hadn't meant to care this much. He hadn't meant to fall in love with his stepbrother.
"Josh!" Drake's voice calls from upstairs, slurred and shaky.
Josh sighs and gets up, heading for the stairs. "Drake, just stay where you are. I'll—"
Too late. He hears the unmistakable sound of feet slipping, a yelp, and the sickening thud of a body hitting the stairs.
"Drake!" Josh's heart leaps into his throat as he sprints up the stairs, meeting Drake's crumpled form halfway down. "Oh my God, are you okay?"
Drake groans, his face pressed against the carpet. "M'fine," he mumbles, trying to push himself up but failing.
Josh kneels beside him, hands hovering nervously. "You're not fine. You're an idiot."
Drake lets out a weak laugh, his head lolling to the side to look at Josh. His eyes are glassy but still hold that familiar spark. "You always take care of me, huh?"
"Yeah, because someone has to," Josh snaps, though his voice trembles. He helps Drake sit up, his arm wrapping around his waist to steady him. "What were you thinking, drinking that much?"
Drake's head lolls onto Josh's shoulder. "I was thinking... you're really purdyyy when you're mad."
Josh freezes. His breath catches, and his grip on Drake's arm tightens. "Drake, stop."
"Why?" Drake slurs, his lips dangerously close to Josh's ear. "It's true. You're pretty. Always have been."
Josh feels his chest tighten, his heart pounding so loud he was sure Drake could hear it. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."
Drake chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against Josh's skin. "Maybe. Or maybe I've been trying to tell you foreverrrr, and I needed a little liquid courage to help meeee." Drake laughs again after speaking, as though he's said the funniest thing imaginable.
Josh pulls back to look at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke. But Drake just stares back, his expression soft and unbearably earnest.
"Drake..." Josh's voice breaks, and he shakes his head. "You can't just—"
Drake leans in, silencing him with a kiss. It was clumsy and tasted like alcohol, but it was everything Josh had ever wanted.
Josh's mind goes blank as Drake kisses him, his lips soft but uncoordinated. It was everything he'd dreamed of and yet so much more overwhelming. He melts into it, unable to resist the moment he’d longed for so desperately. For those fleeting seconds, nothing else mattered but the warmth of Drake's mouth against his.
But then reality slams into him like a freight train. This wasn’t real—not the way he wanted it to be. Drake was drunk, completely out of his mind. This wasn’t love; it was the alcohol talking. Josh pulls back, his breathing uneven, and gently pushes Drake's shoulders to create space between them.
“Drake, stop,” Josh says softly but firmly. His voice wavers, betraying the storm of emotions he's fighting to contain. “You’re drunk. You don’t mean any of this.”
Drake groans, a lazy, lopsided grin still tugging at his lips. “But I do, Joshie. I really do.” His voice is slurred, and his head lolls forward, resting against Josh’s shoulder again.
Josh closes his eyes, willing himself not to cry. He couldn’t let himself believe this—not when Drake was just saying whatever came to mind. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
He helps Drake to his feet, supporting most of his weight as they stagger up the stairs together. Drake’s drunken ramblings don't stop, each word twisting the knife deeper into Josh’s chest.
“You’re so good to me,” Drake murmurs as Josh guides him into their room and onto his bed. He figures hell just let Drake sleep in his bed rather than try and help him up the ladder to his own. “Better than anyone else. You’re my favorite person, Josh.”
Josh swallows hard, blinking back tears. He couldn’t let Drake see how much this was destroying him. “Just get some sleep, okay?” he says, his voice thick with emotion.
“Stay,” Drake mumbles, his hand fumbling for Josh’s wrist. “Don’t go. Please.”
Josh hesitates, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Drake’s plea. But he knew better. If he stayed, he’d only hurt himself more. “I’m gonna lay on the couch,” he whispers. “Goodnight, Drake.”
He slips out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. Once he's in the living room, the tears finally come. He buries his face in his hands, his sobs muffled but uncontrollable. He’d wanted this moment for so long, but not like this—not like it didn’t mean anything.
---
The next morning, Josh drags himself off of the couch, his body aching from the restless night. He finds Drake in the kitchen, hunched over a cup of coffee, his face pale and drawn.
“Morning,” Drake groans without looking up. “Ugh, I feel like death.” He made no mention of waking up in Josh's bed.
Josh forces a small smile. “Yeah, you drank enough to kill a small horse.”
Drake chuckles weakly, wincing as the sound echoes in his skull. “Thanks for taking care of me last night. I don’t really remember much after the party, but… I’m guessing I was a total idiot?”
Josh freezes, his heart sinking. He sauints at Drake, searching his face for any hint that he remembered what had happened. But there's nothing—just the easy, oblivious grin Josh knew so well.
“You don’t remember anything?” Josh asks, his voice carefully neutral.
Drake shakes his head. “Nah, just bits and pieces. Did I do anything stupid?”
Josh’s chest tightens, the weight of his unspoken feelings threatening to crush him. He puts on a smile, even as his heart breaks all over again. “No,” he lies. “Nothing stupid.”
Drake grins, relieved. “Good. You’re the best, Josh. Seriously.”
Josh turns away, his hands trembling as he busies himself with pouring a glass of water. He couldn’t let Drake see how much this was all affecting him. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Sure.”
As Drake rambles on about his plans for the day, completely unaware of the emotional wreckage he’d left behind, Josh feels his resolve harden. He couldn’t keep doing this—couldn’t keep hoping for something that would never happen.
But as he listens to Drake’s voice, so full of life and warmth, Josh knows it's not that simple. Loving Drake was like breathing—it was just second nature to him at this point.
He forces himself to smile, nodding along to whatever Drake was saying. This was his life: pretending he didn’t feel the way he did, pretending he wasn’t breaking inside every time Drake smiled at him like that. And maybe one day, he’d stop hoping for something more.
But until then, Josh would do what he always did. He’d be there for Drake, no matter what it cost him. Because some things—some people—were worth the heartbreak.