Fuck is a Bad Word || Brendon Urie x Reader

A Beneficial Job

Yo. The chapters I've kinda been writing aren't exactly supposed to be the really interesting ones. . . I know it will get more suspenseful or something. I'm just writing the calm before the storm.

Enjoy. . . for now >:)

The next morning, you rushed your way to Screamin' Beans and Steamin' Mugs, careful not to trip on your own feet. You were panting, racing, entirely out of breath, and prompting your lungs to squeeze out what was left.

I'm late. You thought to yourself exasperatedly. I'm very, very late.

In the midst of all of the confusion you felt, you had forgotten to set your alarm. It was already well past the time you were expecting to meet Brendon, and you didn't want to have many bad impressions.

Finally you arrived at the homely cafe and threw the door open, your eyes quickly scanning the room for any sign of the attractive singer or his hoodie.

There was no sign of him. You scanned again. Nothing. Had he left because you were late? Did he think you weren't coming?

You sighed and plopped yourself into a padded chair and rested your chin on your hand.

"This sucks. . ." you muttered.

"I know. . ." a voice answered.

Your head immediately shot around to where the voice was coming from: a chair at the same table you plopped yourself at from a man mimicking your exact composure.

"Brendon?! I. . . I thought-"

"That I left you? I thought I was going to have to apologize because I just got here, too."

You stared. "We were both late. . .?"

"Yep."

"How does that even happen?"

He laughed.

"Did you accidentally sleep in, too?" You asked.

"No, no. I had something last minute come up."

"I see. . ." You trailed off before standing up with him.

"Let's get some coffee at least. I'm sure we both need it." He led the way to the ordering counter which, surprisingly, had no wait.

You, once again, ordered a [preferred size] [favorite coffee], and Brendon ordered two medium Cappuccinos because why not. In that moment, he reminded you of a very watered down version of Kassidy. The medium coffees weren't too large, but still much bigger than they probably should be. . . But who are you to judge? Coffee is an important, vital thing that must be consumed to it's max capacity.

When the worker gave the total, Brendon tried to offer and pay for both of you, but you stopped him.

"I'll actually pay for this one."

"No it's ok. I was the one who invited you."

In that moment you pulled out your wallet. "Ah, but I work here and I get a discount. It's a very beneficial job."

He let a small laugh out of his nose and let you proceed to save the day.

You gathered your given order number and you both sat down at a table.

For a moment you both didn't say anything, but you took a glance at him. He was leaning back in his chair with his black-rimmed glasses on, a leather jacket, and a Fall Out Boy T-shirt. He was staring at the table without any real expression. You decided to break the silence.

"So, where are you staying?"

His eyes widened a little bit as if he didn't expect you to talk to him, and then straightened his back the smallest amount. "With some family friends. I was actually just expecting to stay here for a few days to check out the city, you know? But they're prompting me to stay longer."

You nodded in understanding. He didn't seem bothered by the topic, and quite frankly, the way he put it made you a little bit curious about his "family friends". . .

"Another question. . ."

He looked at you with expectancy.

"How are people not realizing that you're Brendon Urie right now? Seriously, you're famous and no one has noticed."

"You just gotta pretend like you're not famous. Put on the shirt of another band and no one recognizes you."

"Lies." Your coffee was placed in front of you and you gave a nod of thanks. "People notice band members wearing the shirts of other bands all the time."

"You still have to act like you're not important. But I'm not trying to hide from anyone, so it shouldn't matter."

You narrowed your eyes. "Uh, huh. . ." Your hands were now gripped around your coffee and you put it up to your lips, letting the warm caffeinated drink fill your mouth.

You looked up and noticed he was taking a drink of his, as well.

When he put his big drink down, he started a new conversation. "What days do you work here?"

"Every day but weekends. Morning shifts, too. I need money to support myself, after all. College is not the nicest thing in the world."

He nodded. "You don't mind if I come here in the mornings, do you? I do need a place for coffee."

"Just a question, but wouldn't the people you're staying with have a coffee brewer?"

"But the coffee here is better," he protested.

"Sure, sure. I know that feeling."

And then suddenly, you would be spending all of your mornings with one of your favorite band members. This was definitely a beneficial job in more ways than one. . .

You knew that he would have to go back to where he lived some day, but right now, this was okay for you.

You smiled and laughed with him for the rest of the time there before you had to part from each other, but you knew you would see him the next day.

This was just fine.

And yet you were still curious about his family friends. . .

The family friends that he didn't tell you much about, and didn't seem willing to. . .

I DO NOT OWN PANIC! AT THE DISCO OR FALL OUT BOY. END OF STORY. I NEVER WILL. (It should be obvious).

it would be kinda creepy if I did tbh.

Anyway, thanks for reading and thanks for all the reads on the story!

*secretly adds Pete Wentz to story*