Drake Is Not Sure He Approves This Message...
Okay, so remember how I said that I wanted to write RPS and I figured people would talk me out of it? No one did. And in fact, people encouraged me. SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE. I particularly blame 
brixisxonfire for not verbally abusing me when I hatched the plot and aki_hoshi for reading the first 300 words and saying "FINISH IT." *sigh*
Title: What We Do
Ship: Drake Bell/Josh Peck (RPS – do not judge me)
Word Count: 785
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex. Drugs. Rock and Roll. (Literally – I'm not being tongue-in-cheek.) Oh, that reminds me – rimming, too.
Summary: White Album. Balls. Sour Diesel. 69.
Author's Note: Dear lord baby Jesus, please do not let me go to hell for this. Beta byaki_hoshi.
What We Do
Darling, only a fool couldn't see through us, know what we do.
It's dark, but neither of them bothers to turn on a light. It's not so dark that they can't see each other, and that's enough for them. Drake is sitting on a chair, absently strumming his guitar. Sometimes he plays right along with the music and sometimes he adds licks and harmonies that The Beatles never intended. Josh watches his hands. Always his hands. Maybe it's the weed making his focus so narrow, but he doesn't think it is. He seems to always focus on Drake's hands, whether they're dancing across piano keys, lazily picking guitar strings, wrapped around his cock or buried in his ass.
He shifts a little. The room is smoky and dark and filled with the sound of Drake singing "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." As he sings, "you were perverted, too," he looks up at Josh with a leer. Josh swallows hard and glances down to the shadow under Drake's guitar, where he can catch just a hint of balls when Drake leans back.
Josh is lying on his back on the bed with his head hanging over the foot. The blood going to his head is making him even woozier. But Drake looks fucking beautiful upside down.
They probably shouldn't be doing this here, now. They're on Official Business, after all, and if someone knocked on the door and found them naked and baked, it would probably make the papers.
But then Drake sets the guitar aside – Josh can see everything now – and looks up, saying, "What do you say, man? Wanna do it in the road?" And then he giggles hysterically because a high Drake is a Drake with a very inflated opinion of his sense of humor.
Josh rolls his eyes a little, but his can feel his cock growing interested. Drake strolls over to the edge of the bed and stands so close that his cock brushes against Josh's hair. Josh's mouth waters. He thinks for a moment that Drake is gonna teabag him or something – not that it would be an issue if he wanted to – but then Drake leans down and kisses him upside down like Spider Man and he's even more beautiful upside down and kissing.
Then Drake does the most amazing thing. He crawls over Josh's entire body, giving him a slightly crazy bird's eye view of his entire, beautiful, crawling underside and Josh wishes he'd smoked less because he wants to remember every single second with perfect crystal clarity.
He forgets about anything else, though, when Drake's mouth closes around his cock. He grabs Drake's skinny hips and pulls him closer. Since Drake is shorter, his cock is a little too far away for Josh to suck on it properly, so he lifts his head up, and… Perfect.
His mouth is in just the right place to eat Drake's ass, and although the position is going to give him a fucking neck cramp later, at that moment he's too high and too horny to care.
Several times, he debates telling Drake to stop, because Drake's hole is all loose and ready and it would be nice to fuck him now, but "I'm So Tired" is playing, and the lethargy is contagious. Besides, he'd have to take his face out of Drake's ass to say anything, and that's the last thing he wants to do.
So he lets it ride, lifting his hips in rhythm with Drake's sucks and strokes, and stabs his tongue into Drake over and over again, sharp movements that he's going to feel later. But he likes that. Reminds him what his tongue's been up to.
He comes down Drake's throat, his cry muffled by Drake's body. It's fucking good, and he wants to fall into that wonderful post-smoke, post-orgasm sleep, but Drake's cock is still hard against Josh's chest. So Josh rolls him over, sucks him down to the base and shoves two fingers up his loosened ass. Drake shoots off almost instantly.
Josh rotates himself enough that he can rest his sore neck on a pillow and grab Drake, pulling him close. They sleep for a bit, waking up when the CD stops.
Josh knows that they'll put on the second disc, Drake will be moved by "Birthday" to pick up his guitar and do that Elvis-y, hip swiveling thing. Josh will light up again, trying to smoke the munchies away because he doesn't need the calories. And long about the time "Sexy Sadie" comes on, they'll fuck again.
He knows it, because it's certainly not the first time, and there will never be a last time. Not if Josh has anything to do with it. Because this… It's just too fucking good to give up.
brixisxonfire for not verbally abusing me when I hatched the plot and aki_hoshi for reading the first 300 words and saying "FINISH IT." *sigh*Title: What We Do
Ship: Drake Bell/Josh Peck (RPS – do not judge me)
Word Count: 785
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex. Drugs. Rock and Roll. (Literally – I'm not being tongue-in-cheek.) Oh, that reminds me – rimming, too.
Summary: White Album. Balls. Sour Diesel. 69.
Author's Note: Dear lord baby Jesus, please do not let me go to hell for this. Beta by
aki_hoshi.What We Do
Darling, only a fool couldn't see through us, know what we do.
It's dark, but neither of them bothers to turn on a light. It's not so dark that they can't see each other, and that's enough for them. Drake is sitting on a chair, absently strumming his guitar. Sometimes he plays right along with the music and sometimes he adds licks and harmonies that The Beatles never intended. Josh watches his hands. Always his hands. Maybe it's the weed making his focus so narrow, but he doesn't think it is. He seems to always focus on Drake's hands, whether they're dancing across piano keys, lazily picking guitar strings, wrapped around his cock or buried in his ass.
He shifts a little. The room is smoky and dark and filled with the sound of Drake singing "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." As he sings, "you were perverted, too," he looks up at Josh with a leer. Josh swallows hard and glances down to the shadow under Drake's guitar, where he can catch just a hint of balls when Drake leans back.
Josh is lying on his back on the bed with his head hanging over the foot. The blood going to his head is making him even woozier. But Drake looks fucking beautiful upside down.
They probably shouldn't be doing this here, now. They're on Official Business, after all, and if someone knocked on the door and found them naked and baked, it would probably make the papers.
But then Drake sets the guitar aside – Josh can see everything now – and looks up, saying, "What do you say, man? Wanna do it in the road?" And then he giggles hysterically because a high Drake is a Drake with a very inflated opinion of his sense of humor.
Josh rolls his eyes a little, but his can feel his cock growing interested. Drake strolls over to the edge of the bed and stands so close that his cock brushes against Josh's hair. Josh's mouth waters. He thinks for a moment that Drake is gonna teabag him or something – not that it would be an issue if he wanted to – but then Drake leans down and kisses him upside down like Spider Man and he's even more beautiful upside down and kissing.
Then Drake does the most amazing thing. He crawls over Josh's entire body, giving him a slightly crazy bird's eye view of his entire, beautiful, crawling underside and Josh wishes he'd smoked less because he wants to remember every single second with perfect crystal clarity.
He forgets about anything else, though, when Drake's mouth closes around his cock. He grabs Drake's skinny hips and pulls him closer. Since Drake is shorter, his cock is a little too far away for Josh to suck on it properly, so he lifts his head up, and… Perfect.
His mouth is in just the right place to eat Drake's ass, and although the position is going to give him a fucking neck cramp later, at that moment he's too high and too horny to care.
Several times, he debates telling Drake to stop, because Drake's hole is all loose and ready and it would be nice to fuck him now, but "I'm So Tired" is playing, and the lethargy is contagious. Besides, he'd have to take his face out of Drake's ass to say anything, and that's the last thing he wants to do.
So he lets it ride, lifting his hips in rhythm with Drake's sucks and strokes, and stabs his tongue into Drake over and over again, sharp movements that he's going to feel later. But he likes that. Reminds him what his tongue's been up to.
He comes down Drake's throat, his cry muffled by Drake's body. It's fucking good, and he wants to fall into that wonderful post-smoke, post-orgasm sleep, but Drake's cock is still hard against Josh's chest. So Josh rolls him over, sucks him down to the base and shoves two fingers up his loosened ass. Drake shoots off almost instantly.
Josh rotates himself enough that he can rest his sore neck on a pillow and grab Drake, pulling him close. They sleep for a bit, waking up when the CD stops.
Josh knows that they'll put on the second disc, Drake will be moved by "Birthday" to pick up his guitar and do that Elvis-y, hip swiveling thing. Josh will light up again, trying to smoke the munchies away because he doesn't need the calories. And long about the time "Sexy Sadie" comes on, they'll fuck again.
He knows it, because it's certainly not the first time, and there will never be a last time. Not if Josh has anything to do with it. Because this… It's just too fucking good to give up.