Anklebiters - Joshler

Loverboy

Before this fan fiction starts I would just like to remind you that there is a very large amount of topics surrounding drug use, alcohol, mental health issues and toxic relationship. This is a trigger warning for the whole story, please stay safe.

Prologue - 2007

He entered the unusually quiet house, cradling a case of beers with the guilty burn of a fake-ID in his back pocket. "That's the last time I do your bidding, Boyd!" Josh called out as he shuffled up to the bathroom where the stench of hairspray plagued his nostrils through the closed door. "Do I really look like a-" Josh struggled to pull the ID out. "Clarence Worley to you?"

The lock clicked and the white door opened up to reveal a ravishing Brendon Urie who was dressed in a white dress shirt underneath a black vest. He wore pants that clung a little bit too revealingly to his body- at least enough to make his roommate of two years go rosy. "Hey man, if it weren't for 'Clarence Worley' do you think you would have been able to get into our gig last week?" Josh pouted. "Come on, why do you always have to stage me up? I haven't even had a chance to get ready!"

"Don't worry, Dun. Since when do you spend hours getting ready anyway?" Brendon teased, making his way out of the bathroom and giving Josh's ass a firm slap as he walked by.

"I'll have you know that I take pride in my appearance!" Josh squeaked, obviously startled by the older boy's advances. No matter how many compromising situations they experienced together, Josh never expects the casual flirtation that Brendon is always so open about. Especially when Brendon would spend days obsessing over his band-mate and causal fling, Ryan Ross, who he clearly had strong feelings for but dreaded the thought of admitting it to them.

Josh didn't know much about Ryan, after all, he was Brendon's friend, not Panic! at the Disco's friend. He was cool with it though, but that didn't mean that he wasn't rather desperate to get an interview with the elusive guitarist. Brendon had seen other journalists continuously try and fail to snatch any useful information from the older man and he had faith that he had what it would take to tackle his diversions.

Brendon disagreed.

Brendon had been in the scene a lot longer than Josh had and said that the younger male was already in over his head- he wasn't trying to be rude, just honest. Then again, it was Brendon who had just sent out the underage boy to get alcohol for his party to celebrate their previous show. Apparently, it would only be a few people coming over, but then again- when Brendon said 'a couple' that usually meant over 50 at a minimum.

Later, guests began to trickle in one by one or in pairs, smiling at Brendon and congratulating him on his work. They never spared a glance at Josh and he understood why: he was a nobody. How he even ended up living with the rising star named Brendon Boyd Urie is still totally bizarre to him. But Josh wasn't the type to sit on his ass and cry, he looked at the party positively- this was the perfect opportunity to put his name out there.

After following Brendon like a lost puppy, gawking at the number of well-known celebrities who were congregating in his living room, Josh went to the kitchen to crack open one of his, no, 'Clarence's' hard-earned beers.

While Josh leant against the counter, he watched a bright orange hue waltz into the kitchen. He took a sip from the beer, smiling as the girl he knew to be Hayley Williams sat up on the kitchen counter. "Are you lost, ma'am? I thought heaven was East from here." The comment earnt a giggle from Hayley, along with a nudge on the shoulder.

"I know way too little about you for you to be hitting on me, loverboy."

He shrugged, "well, usually they call me Josh."