FIC: The Convention (3/?)
Jan. 31st, 2008 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nowadventuringTitle: The Convention (3/?)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
serotonin_storm
Fandom: Drake & Josh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Drake/Josh UST
Warnings: stepcest
Word Count: 2400 words
Summary: “Wake up, wake up, wake up! It's Saturday. We have to leave in two hours!”
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Edited 12/9/08.
“Josh?” Drake poked his brother's sleeping form. Josh snorted a small snore in response and rolled over. “Josh, get up.” Another snore. “Come on, Josh! Wake up, wake up, wake up! It's Saturday. We have to leave in two hours!”
“Mm, go away,” Josh grumbled.
Drake groaned. He had just known letting Josh stay up until three watching the Exploration Station was a bad move. The pregnant lamas weren't doing them any good this morning, now were they? “Wake up,” he said again, giving his brother's shoulder a push. “Wake up, or I'll go into school on Monday and tell everyone you used to wear a dress!”
Josh's shoulders tensed. “Did not,” he mumbled sleepily.
“Is that so, Miss Nancy?”
There was a groan. “You are evil incarnate. Evil, I say,” the other boy told him indignantly, finally rolling over to face him. “Look, I have an idea. Why don't I call Craig and get him to pretend to be your boyfriend. It's perfect; you two aren't even related!”
Since that was pretty much the single stupidest thing he'd ever heard, Drake had no problem scoffing at this new plan. “Like I'd go out with Craig!” he laughed. Patting Josh's leg, he smiled. “Good one.”
“What do you mean?” Josh asked, furrowing his brow. “Craig is nice. And pretty attractive if you picture him in something less – ” He paused there, apparently considering his next words carefully.
“Terminally geeky?” Drake supplied.
Josh sighed. “Yeah.
“He's not attractive!” Drake argued incredulously. Then he bit his lip. “Wait, which one is Craig again?”
“The one who's never punched you, Drake.”
“Oh,” he said, “him.” The weird one with the slicked-back hair, then; not the one with the glasses. “Well, I guess he's okay looking. But, I mean, he's no you.”
Josh propped himself up on his elbow and gazed at Drake thoughtfully. “What?”
Alright, maybe he'd stuck his foot in his mouth a little on that one. But Drake saw people objectively; it was his obligation to know who was hot, and who was not. That way, he knew which girls to woo and which guys were his competition.
“Look,” he said, attempting to explain what he'd meant. “Craig – he's not hideous. No, Eric is hideous. Oh, come on, Josh! You know it's true!” he added at Josh's offended glance. “But even if you put him in the coolest clothes on earth, Craig still wouldn't be half as hot as me. He doesn't have the hair for it. You, dude? You're totally half as hot as me now. Maybe even three quarters. And if I were into – you know, guys? Three quarters, min, would be required to go out with me. It's simple math,” he concluded. “Craig just doesn't cut it.”
“You really think I'm three quarters as hot as you are?” Josh asked, a distant expression on his face.
Drake cringed. “I guess, yeah. Whatever.”
“That's – ” Josh smiled brightly. “Man, that's really sweet of you, Drake...in an extremely narcissistic way...”
“Yeah, sure,” he said awkwardly, reminding himself to look up “narcissistic”. That word just kept coming up.
With a soft moan, Josh kicked the covers off himself and stretched. He mumbled something around around a yawn that sounded vaguely like the ramblings of a crazy man, or some of Josh's more distressed exclamations. “No habla Espan-yawn, Josh,” Drake told him fondly.
“I said,” Josh repeated loudly as he jumped excitedly and pumped his fist in the air, “let's get this show on the road!”
--
“Drake,” Josh growled two and a half hours later as they sat together in the cramped little car. “Do you actually know where we're going?”
Drake glanced at him as he turned the car a sharp left. Josh's face was turning that dangerous red color, which meant limbs were probably about to be flailing in the direction of Drake's head sometime very soon. He tried discreetly to scoot a little to the left. “Of course I know where we're going,” he said indignantly. “We're going to the convention.”
“And where is the convention?”
He flinched; that was the question he was hoping wouldn't get asked. “Somewhere in San Diego?”
“Agh!” Josh croaked. “San Diego! How specific! That's very specific of you, did you know that, Drake? Extremely – specific – ” He started panting, clutching the dashboard.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Okay?” Josh choked out. “Well, let me see. I'm stuck in a car with you, on my way to a convention where the main purpose is for us to pretend to be lovers, and you don't even know where we're going! We're just drivin' around, searching blindly because my idiot stepbrother has never heard of Map Quest! So yes,” he glared. “I'm just fabulous.”
“Fabulous?” Drake repeated, forcing back a laugh.
“Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to be rugged and butch?” his brother asked sarcastically.
He looked Josh over out of the corner of his eye. “Nah,” he smiled. Josh sunk down in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering. “Hey!” Drake said suddenly as he spotted something up ahead of them. “That car is rainbow striped!”
“Yeah, so?” Josh sulked.
“Well, aren't rainbows, like, a gay thing?” he asked.
“I guess,” Josh said. “But don't stereotype people, Drake, there are other – ”
He veered the car towards the bright colors before Josh could finish speaking. He didn't need a lecture right now. He needed to get to the convention and impress Carrie – no, wait, Chelsey, he corrected himself.
And then there it was. Strung across the front of a building was the sign, “Annual Bisexuals From Across The Globe.” “Hah, I found it!” he gloated and stuck his tongue out in Josh's direction. Then he went in search of a parking space amid the crowd of cars.
--
“Put your arm around my shoulder.”
Josh looked at him briefly as they weaved their way through the mass of people. “Oh, let me think about that – no.”
“Josh!” he yelped. “We had an agreement.” It wasn't like Josh to back out at the last minute. It was like – well, it was like him. He counted on Josh to be reliable enough for the both of them.
“Drake, do you see all these people?” Josh asked. “How are we gonna get around them if we're joined at the shoulder, huh?” He ducked left around a group of brightly dressed guys, and Drake followed closely.
“Alright, good point,” he admitted. It was hard enough to navigate with only his body to worry about. Josh was tall; he'd only make it worse.
“So what's the plan?” his brother asked.
“Okay,” Drake said, looking down at the pamphlet he'd grabbed as they walked. “We're going to get signed in, then I'll call Chelsey, and we'll meet her.”
“They have food at this thing, right, Drake?”
He shrugged. “I guess.” Honestly he hadn't really worried about it.
Very suddenly, Josh stopped moving altogether. Drake ran into his back with a little, “Oof.”
“Hey Drake?” Josh said slowly. “How much are the tickets?”
“Tickets? I didn't think you needed tickets for these things!” he said.
“No, we're just gonna waltz right in here!” Josh said, slapping his shoulder. “Look at us, waltzin' illegally!”
“I thought conventions were, like, free!”
“Of course they're not free!” Josh sighed. “It's normally around twenty dollars more if you buy at the door rather than pre-order.”
“How many conventions have you been to, Josh?” he asked.
“My dad and I went to some Galaxy Wars conventions when I was younger,” Josh answered.
He nodded and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. After rifling through it, he discovered the grim truth. “Josh,” he said. “I only have ten bucks.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “Go call Chelsey. I'll get everything squared away.”
He gave Josh an appreciative smile as he walked off, then ducked into the quietest corner he could find. He scrolled down on the contact list of his cell phone, stomach dropping a little more with each “Chelsey” he passed. Chelsie Adler... Chelsey Avery... Chelsy Lind... Chelsey Morgan... Chelsey Samson...
God, what had she said? “I'm Chelsey...” he said aloud, trying to fill in the blank. “Chelsey Ahhh... Adler?” No, that didn't sound right at all, so, “Chelsey Avery?” Much better. “Yeah, Chelsey Avery.” He pressed "send" and listened to it dial in his ear.
“Hello?” Chelsey's voice chimed on the other line. With a bit of relief he realized he'd picked the right one.
“Hey there, Chelsey,” he said smoothly. “It's Drake Parker. Remember me?”
“Calling to back out, Drake Parker?” she asked. A voice in the background laughed.
“No,” he said. “I'm calling to ask you where we meet. My...boyfriend is getting our tickets right now.”
“Is that so,” she said thoughtfully. “Okay, meet us at the soda machines on the second floor. Don't go up too high or you'll hit the rooms.”
“Rooms?”
“Yes, this is a hotel. You and your boyfriend going to rent one afterward?” she asked playfully.
“Very funny,” he snapped without meaning to. “We'll be there.”
“Looking forward to it,” Chelsey said, and the line disconnected.
“Hey,” Josh called, choosing that moment to saunter Drake's way, examining some papers in his hands. “We have to wear name tags,” he said, holding up the laminated cards.
Drake wondered if he actually paled visibly. “Like, with our names on them?”
“No, with our social security numbers,” Josh joked. “Don't worry about it, bro. I put down fake last names.”
He took the name tags from his brother's hands. “Josh Peck.” That was alright. “Drake Bell?”
“It's musical,” Josh said by way of explanation.
“Then why didn't you go for Drake Guitar? Drake... I don't know, but I don't even play the bell. No one plays the bell. It's a bell!”
“It's also a last name,” Josh insisted. “Stop complaining. It's better than Jefferson Steelflex.”
“Is not,” he pouted.
“Steelflex,” Josh repeated meaningfully. “Steelflex.”
“What?” he demanded. “I think it's manly.” Josh just shook his head. “Look, Chelsey said to meet them on the second floor by the soda machines. And,” he added, narrowing his eyes, “we are not renting a room afterward, got that?”
Josh closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Crazy, crazy man...”
--
He scanned the faces. “That might be her over there,” he said, pointing to a brunette a few feet away.
Josh swiped a hand over his face. “Drake,” his voice said, muffled through his palm. “Why are we at a convention for a girl you can't even identify?”
“I can identify her,” he insisted. “She just...looks like a lot of other girls – I think that's her!” He peered closer. No, wait – he remembered that her eyes were green. This girl had ridiculously bright blue eyes. “Never mind,” he muttered.
Josh groaned. “You owe me, you got that? I've done a lot of things for you, but this – this – this is something else!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Drake agreed half-heartedly. “You're the best brother in the world, I love you, blah blah blah.”
“Don't – say – brother,” Josh hissed slowly.
“Jeez, sorry,” he said, holding up his hands.
“Excuse me?” a soft voice from behind him said. He turned. A small, curvy blond smiled up at him hesitantly. “Are you Drake Parker?”
“I sure am,” he said flirtatiously.
The girl blushed. “I'm Chelsey's friend, Amber. She asked me to come find you. We're right over there,” she said, pointing. She gestured for him to follow. “Come on, Josh,” he said, pulling at Josh's sleeve.
Sure enough, there sat Chelsey at the table, legs crossed under her little black skirt. She stood when she saw them. “Drake,” she said with a small inclination of her head. “Welcome to my t-shirt stand. I do expect you to buy something.”
“Oh. I – uh, I have ten dollars,” he said, pulling out his wallet. He heard Josh huff from behind him.
“Alright,” Chelsey said with slightly more enthusiasm. “Pick your poison. We have plain “GLBT” tees, and then we have some more creative ones. Just look around.”
Awkwardly he picked up a black t-shirt with a interlocking pink and blue triangles. Besides the fact that it probably had some weird hidden meaning, it wasn't so bad. “I'll take this one,” he said.
Chelsey smiled. “Good choice.” She took the shirt from him and folded it neatly, then took the ten dollar bill from his hand. “So where's your little boyfriend, Parker?”
Josh cleared his throat and pushed past Drake. “Hi,” he said, extending his hand across the table. “I'm Josh, Drake's date.”
Chelsey looked almost bemused, “Hello there.”
“He told me a lot about you,” his stepbrother continued as Chelsey once again took a seat on the other side of the table. “You two met down at The Premiere?”
“We did indeed,” she agreed. She rested her chin on her hand and gazed up at them. “So did he tell you he came here to hit on me?”
Josh's face colored. Drake narrowed his eyes; he didn't like that, for some reason. It seemed off-limits. “I – I,” Josh stuttered momentarily. “Of course I knew, silly lady!” he finally said brightly. “Just, uh, helpin' out a friend here.” He draped his arm across Drake's shoulder and pulled him close.
“A friend,” Chelsey said thoughtfully.
“Who I have sex with!” Josh added quickly. “Lots of sex.” Drake resisted the urge to wince. Josh had been doing so well until Chelsey had flustered him.
The small girl appeared once again, thankfully bringing the strained conversation to a halt. “Chelsey?” she said. “Phillip wants us down on the first floor. Some sort of event problem. Lilian is going to watch the t-shirt stand for you.”
Chelsey stood, smoothing her skirt down with one hand. “You boys coming with me?” she asked, handing Drake his t-shirt.
“You betcha,” Josh said. He still looked embarrassed, but also strangely determined. “But one thing first.” He turned to Drake. “I really like that t-shirt,” he said. Then he gulped, grabbed the back of Drake's neck, and kissed him full on the lips.
Chelsey stared at them for a moment, then turned sharply on her heel. Drake looked at his brother, flabbergasted. “I thought you said kissing was off-limits,” he whispered furiously.
“Well, I changed my mind,” Josh whispered back, head held high. Then he went stalking after Chelsey, leaving Drake by the t-shirt stand alone.
Drake sighed. He could tell that this was going to be a very long convention.
< Part 1 | Part 2 | TBC
Author:
serotonin_stormFandom: Drake & Josh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Drake/Josh UST
Warnings: stepcest
Word Count: 2400 words
Summary: “Wake up, wake up, wake up! It's Saturday. We have to leave in two hours!”
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Edited 12/9/08.
“Josh?” Drake poked his brother's sleeping form. Josh snorted a small snore in response and rolled over. “Josh, get up.” Another snore. “Come on, Josh! Wake up, wake up, wake up! It's Saturday. We have to leave in two hours!”
“Mm, go away,” Josh grumbled.
Drake groaned. He had just known letting Josh stay up until three watching the Exploration Station was a bad move. The pregnant lamas weren't doing them any good this morning, now were they? “Wake up,” he said again, giving his brother's shoulder a push. “Wake up, or I'll go into school on Monday and tell everyone you used to wear a dress!”
Josh's shoulders tensed. “Did not,” he mumbled sleepily.
“Is that so, Miss Nancy?”
There was a groan. “You are evil incarnate. Evil, I say,” the other boy told him indignantly, finally rolling over to face him. “Look, I have an idea. Why don't I call Craig and get him to pretend to be your boyfriend. It's perfect; you two aren't even related!”
Since that was pretty much the single stupidest thing he'd ever heard, Drake had no problem scoffing at this new plan. “Like I'd go out with Craig!” he laughed. Patting Josh's leg, he smiled. “Good one.”
“What do you mean?” Josh asked, furrowing his brow. “Craig is nice. And pretty attractive if you picture him in something less – ” He paused there, apparently considering his next words carefully.
“Terminally geeky?” Drake supplied.
Josh sighed. “Yeah.
“He's not attractive!” Drake argued incredulously. Then he bit his lip. “Wait, which one is Craig again?”
“The one who's never punched you, Drake.”
“Oh,” he said, “him.” The weird one with the slicked-back hair, then; not the one with the glasses. “Well, I guess he's okay looking. But, I mean, he's no you.”
Josh propped himself up on his elbow and gazed at Drake thoughtfully. “What?”
Alright, maybe he'd stuck his foot in his mouth a little on that one. But Drake saw people objectively; it was his obligation to know who was hot, and who was not. That way, he knew which girls to woo and which guys were his competition.
“Look,” he said, attempting to explain what he'd meant. “Craig – he's not hideous. No, Eric is hideous. Oh, come on, Josh! You know it's true!” he added at Josh's offended glance. “But even if you put him in the coolest clothes on earth, Craig still wouldn't be half as hot as me. He doesn't have the hair for it. You, dude? You're totally half as hot as me now. Maybe even three quarters. And if I were into – you know, guys? Three quarters, min, would be required to go out with me. It's simple math,” he concluded. “Craig just doesn't cut it.”
“You really think I'm three quarters as hot as you are?” Josh asked, a distant expression on his face.
Drake cringed. “I guess, yeah. Whatever.”
“That's – ” Josh smiled brightly. “Man, that's really sweet of you, Drake...in an extremely narcissistic way...”
“Yeah, sure,” he said awkwardly, reminding himself to look up “narcissistic”. That word just kept coming up.
With a soft moan, Josh kicked the covers off himself and stretched. He mumbled something around around a yawn that sounded vaguely like the ramblings of a crazy man, or some of Josh's more distressed exclamations. “No habla Espan-yawn, Josh,” Drake told him fondly.
“I said,” Josh repeated loudly as he jumped excitedly and pumped his fist in the air, “let's get this show on the road!”
--
“Drake,” Josh growled two and a half hours later as they sat together in the cramped little car. “Do you actually know where we're going?”
Drake glanced at him as he turned the car a sharp left. Josh's face was turning that dangerous red color, which meant limbs were probably about to be flailing in the direction of Drake's head sometime very soon. He tried discreetly to scoot a little to the left. “Of course I know where we're going,” he said indignantly. “We're going to the convention.”
“And where is the convention?”
He flinched; that was the question he was hoping wouldn't get asked. “Somewhere in San Diego?”
“Agh!” Josh croaked. “San Diego! How specific! That's very specific of you, did you know that, Drake? Extremely – specific – ” He started panting, clutching the dashboard.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Okay?” Josh choked out. “Well, let me see. I'm stuck in a car with you, on my way to a convention where the main purpose is for us to pretend to be lovers, and you don't even know where we're going! We're just drivin' around, searching blindly because my idiot stepbrother has never heard of Map Quest! So yes,” he glared. “I'm just fabulous.”
“Fabulous?” Drake repeated, forcing back a laugh.
“Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to be rugged and butch?” his brother asked sarcastically.
He looked Josh over out of the corner of his eye. “Nah,” he smiled. Josh sunk down in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering. “Hey!” Drake said suddenly as he spotted something up ahead of them. “That car is rainbow striped!”
“Yeah, so?” Josh sulked.
“Well, aren't rainbows, like, a gay thing?” he asked.
“I guess,” Josh said. “But don't stereotype people, Drake, there are other – ”
He veered the car towards the bright colors before Josh could finish speaking. He didn't need a lecture right now. He needed to get to the convention and impress Carrie – no, wait, Chelsey, he corrected himself.
And then there it was. Strung across the front of a building was the sign, “Annual Bisexuals From Across The Globe.” “Hah, I found it!” he gloated and stuck his tongue out in Josh's direction. Then he went in search of a parking space amid the crowd of cars.
--
“Put your arm around my shoulder.”
Josh looked at him briefly as they weaved their way through the mass of people. “Oh, let me think about that – no.”
“Josh!” he yelped. “We had an agreement.” It wasn't like Josh to back out at the last minute. It was like – well, it was like him. He counted on Josh to be reliable enough for the both of them.
“Drake, do you see all these people?” Josh asked. “How are we gonna get around them if we're joined at the shoulder, huh?” He ducked left around a group of brightly dressed guys, and Drake followed closely.
“Alright, good point,” he admitted. It was hard enough to navigate with only his body to worry about. Josh was tall; he'd only make it worse.
“So what's the plan?” his brother asked.
“Okay,” Drake said, looking down at the pamphlet he'd grabbed as they walked. “We're going to get signed in, then I'll call Chelsey, and we'll meet her.”
“They have food at this thing, right, Drake?”
He shrugged. “I guess.” Honestly he hadn't really worried about it.
Very suddenly, Josh stopped moving altogether. Drake ran into his back with a little, “Oof.”
“Hey Drake?” Josh said slowly. “How much are the tickets?”
“Tickets? I didn't think you needed tickets for these things!” he said.
“No, we're just gonna waltz right in here!” Josh said, slapping his shoulder. “Look at us, waltzin' illegally!”
“I thought conventions were, like, free!”
“Of course they're not free!” Josh sighed. “It's normally around twenty dollars more if you buy at the door rather than pre-order.”
“How many conventions have you been to, Josh?” he asked.
“My dad and I went to some Galaxy Wars conventions when I was younger,” Josh answered.
He nodded and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. After rifling through it, he discovered the grim truth. “Josh,” he said. “I only have ten bucks.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “Go call Chelsey. I'll get everything squared away.”
He gave Josh an appreciative smile as he walked off, then ducked into the quietest corner he could find. He scrolled down on the contact list of his cell phone, stomach dropping a little more with each “Chelsey” he passed. Chelsie Adler... Chelsey Avery... Chelsy Lind... Chelsey Morgan... Chelsey Samson...
God, what had she said? “I'm Chelsey...” he said aloud, trying to fill in the blank. “Chelsey Ahhh... Adler?” No, that didn't sound right at all, so, “Chelsey Avery?” Much better. “Yeah, Chelsey Avery.” He pressed "send" and listened to it dial in his ear.
“Hello?” Chelsey's voice chimed on the other line. With a bit of relief he realized he'd picked the right one.
“Hey there, Chelsey,” he said smoothly. “It's Drake Parker. Remember me?”
“Calling to back out, Drake Parker?” she asked. A voice in the background laughed.
“No,” he said. “I'm calling to ask you where we meet. My...boyfriend is getting our tickets right now.”
“Is that so,” she said thoughtfully. “Okay, meet us at the soda machines on the second floor. Don't go up too high or you'll hit the rooms.”
“Rooms?”
“Yes, this is a hotel. You and your boyfriend going to rent one afterward?” she asked playfully.
“Very funny,” he snapped without meaning to. “We'll be there.”
“Looking forward to it,” Chelsey said, and the line disconnected.
“Hey,” Josh called, choosing that moment to saunter Drake's way, examining some papers in his hands. “We have to wear name tags,” he said, holding up the laminated cards.
Drake wondered if he actually paled visibly. “Like, with our names on them?”
“No, with our social security numbers,” Josh joked. “Don't worry about it, bro. I put down fake last names.”
He took the name tags from his brother's hands. “Josh Peck.” That was alright. “Drake Bell?”
“It's musical,” Josh said by way of explanation.
“Then why didn't you go for Drake Guitar? Drake... I don't know, but I don't even play the bell. No one plays the bell. It's a bell!”
“It's also a last name,” Josh insisted. “Stop complaining. It's better than Jefferson Steelflex.”
“Is not,” he pouted.
“Steelflex,” Josh repeated meaningfully. “Steelflex.”
“What?” he demanded. “I think it's manly.” Josh just shook his head. “Look, Chelsey said to meet them on the second floor by the soda machines. And,” he added, narrowing his eyes, “we are not renting a room afterward, got that?”
Josh closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Crazy, crazy man...”
--
He scanned the faces. “That might be her over there,” he said, pointing to a brunette a few feet away.
Josh swiped a hand over his face. “Drake,” his voice said, muffled through his palm. “Why are we at a convention for a girl you can't even identify?”
“I can identify her,” he insisted. “She just...looks like a lot of other girls – I think that's her!” He peered closer. No, wait – he remembered that her eyes were green. This girl had ridiculously bright blue eyes. “Never mind,” he muttered.
Josh groaned. “You owe me, you got that? I've done a lot of things for you, but this – this – this is something else!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Drake agreed half-heartedly. “You're the best brother in the world, I love you, blah blah blah.”
“Don't – say – brother,” Josh hissed slowly.
“Jeez, sorry,” he said, holding up his hands.
“Excuse me?” a soft voice from behind him said. He turned. A small, curvy blond smiled up at him hesitantly. “Are you Drake Parker?”
“I sure am,” he said flirtatiously.
The girl blushed. “I'm Chelsey's friend, Amber. She asked me to come find you. We're right over there,” she said, pointing. She gestured for him to follow. “Come on, Josh,” he said, pulling at Josh's sleeve.
Sure enough, there sat Chelsey at the table, legs crossed under her little black skirt. She stood when she saw them. “Drake,” she said with a small inclination of her head. “Welcome to my t-shirt stand. I do expect you to buy something.”
“Oh. I – uh, I have ten dollars,” he said, pulling out his wallet. He heard Josh huff from behind him.
“Alright,” Chelsey said with slightly more enthusiasm. “Pick your poison. We have plain “GLBT” tees, and then we have some more creative ones. Just look around.”
Awkwardly he picked up a black t-shirt with a interlocking pink and blue triangles. Besides the fact that it probably had some weird hidden meaning, it wasn't so bad. “I'll take this one,” he said.
Chelsey smiled. “Good choice.” She took the shirt from him and folded it neatly, then took the ten dollar bill from his hand. “So where's your little boyfriend, Parker?”
Josh cleared his throat and pushed past Drake. “Hi,” he said, extending his hand across the table. “I'm Josh, Drake's date.”
Chelsey looked almost bemused, “Hello there.”
“He told me a lot about you,” his stepbrother continued as Chelsey once again took a seat on the other side of the table. “You two met down at The Premiere?”
“We did indeed,” she agreed. She rested her chin on her hand and gazed up at them. “So did he tell you he came here to hit on me?”
Josh's face colored. Drake narrowed his eyes; he didn't like that, for some reason. It seemed off-limits. “I – I,” Josh stuttered momentarily. “Of course I knew, silly lady!” he finally said brightly. “Just, uh, helpin' out a friend here.” He draped his arm across Drake's shoulder and pulled him close.
“A friend,” Chelsey said thoughtfully.
“Who I have sex with!” Josh added quickly. “Lots of sex.” Drake resisted the urge to wince. Josh had been doing so well until Chelsey had flustered him.
The small girl appeared once again, thankfully bringing the strained conversation to a halt. “Chelsey?” she said. “Phillip wants us down on the first floor. Some sort of event problem. Lilian is going to watch the t-shirt stand for you.”
Chelsey stood, smoothing her skirt down with one hand. “You boys coming with me?” she asked, handing Drake his t-shirt.
“You betcha,” Josh said. He still looked embarrassed, but also strangely determined. “But one thing first.” He turned to Drake. “I really like that t-shirt,” he said. Then he gulped, grabbed the back of Drake's neck, and kissed him full on the lips.
Chelsey stared at them for a moment, then turned sharply on her heel. Drake looked at his brother, flabbergasted. “I thought you said kissing was off-limits,” he whispered furiously.
“Well, I changed my mind,” Josh whispered back, head held high. Then he went stalking after Chelsey, leaving Drake by the t-shirt stand alone.
Drake sighed. He could tell that this was going to be a very long convention.
< Part 1 | Part 2 | TBC
