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Josh never expected it to last this long.
When they first crossed the line from brothers to something else, he had braced himself for heartbreak. Drake wasn’t the commitment type—he never had been. Girls came and went like changing seasons, and Josh had always assumed he’d be just another phase, something Drake would eventually get bored of. But a year had passed, and Drake was still here.
Still sneaking into his bed late at night. Still kissing him in the shadows of their shared room. Still looking at him like he was something special. It made Josh crazy. They were careful, of course. No one could know. Megan would tear them apart. Their parents would never understand. And the world? The world would eat them alive. So they hid. Maybe it was selfish—maybe it was wrong—but Josh didn’t care.
As long as he could have Drake, even if only in secret, it was enoughh
xx
It was late, and they were both drunk. Not tipsy. Not just a little buzzed. But drunk—the kind that made the room spin, that turned thoughts into slurred confessions. The dangerous kind.
They had stumbled into Josh’s bed after an impromptu drinking session that Drake had convinced Josh to take part in. Their movements were uncoordinated and clumsy, shirts discarded somewhere on the floor. The world outside was quiet, the only sounds in the room that of their heavy breathing and the occasional creak of the bed. Afterwards, Josh was warm. Happy. Content.
Drake was curled against him, his head on Josh’s chest, his fingers lazily tracing patterns over his stomach. His breath was warm against Josh’s skin, his body heavy with sleep. Josh sighed, running his fingers through Drake’s messy hair. “You’re gonna have the worst hangover tomorrow, dude.”
Drake chuckled, voice slow and drowsy in a way that made Josh's stomach flutter. “Worth it.” Josh smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Drake’s head. They didn't often have moments like these. The soft moments. The quiet ones. Josh was alright with that. Because deep down, he was always waiting for it to end. But then—
Drake shifted, burying his face against Josh’s chest. “M’gonna marry you someday.” He mumbled. Josh froze. His heart stopped. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before responding
“... What?”
Drake hummed sleepily, tightening his hold on Josh’s waist. “Mm. You heard me.”
Josh’s throat went dry. “Drake, you—”
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” Drake mumbled. “Dunno what I’d do without you, Joshie.”
Josh felt like the air had been sucked from the room. Drake wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be. Drake didn’t do commitment. Drake didn’t do forever. Drake had never even called him his boyfriend. And yet...Here he was, drunk and soft, whispering about marriage like it was inevitable. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Josh swallowed hard. “Drake. Do you even… mean that?”
Drake made a soft noise of protest, like the idea of him not meaning it offended him. “Course I do. You’re it for me, Josh.”
Josh clenched his jaw, his chest aching. “But—you're... You. No offense."
Drake huffed, pulling back just enough to look at Josh through bleary eyes. “Yeah? And yet I’m here. With you.”
Josh searched his face for any sign of hesitation. Any trace of a lie.But Drake seemed so sincere.
Drake grinned, cuddling further into Josh's side. “Dumbass. I don’t need anyone else.”
Josh exhaled sharply, something inside him breaking.
“… You're drunk.”
Drake’s smile softened. He leaned in, pressing a lazy, drunken kiss to Josh’s lips.
“When I'm sober I'll tell you again. I’m gonna marry you someday.”
Josh didn’t cry. But it was close.