roommates » joshler [book #2]

seven » and most things in between

okay, whoever put josh in charge of party planning made an awful mistake.

an apartment is not equipped to handle the equivalent of a teenage high school house party— and yet, that's exactly what's going on in apartment 21. 

"i thought," tyler says to him, "i thought they'd have grown up by now."

"this is jack we're talking about," josh has to shout over the music, which is blasting, and really it's quite the surprise that they haven't had a neighbor complain yet, "will he ever grow up?"

they both watch the aforementioned boy run past with a bottle of hot sauce. "touche," tyler concedes. 

the main thing that josh is worried about is something a bit heavier than the average beer and liquor, which they have out on the tables already. bad move, maybe, because drunk jack is quite a sight. 

"almost a replacement for brendon," josh says, and the name brings a flood of memories to him— that final, tense midnight car ride where brendon drove him back to tyler's. it was cold that night, and all josh had on was boxers and a pink shirt too big for him, his feet sliding around in sneakers that lacked socks. a headache had drilled through his anxious brain to the point where he'd nearly thrown up on the apartment stairs. 

"almost," tyler agrees, and touches his arm lightly. josh shivers, ripped out of his memories. "you okay?"

"yeah." just... remembering, he thinks to himself.

it's hard, remembering things. he doesn't know if he likes it. on the one hand, he hates having gaps in his memory, but on the other hand, how many times has filling in those gaps caused him to end up on the floor in jags of tears?

this is a party. he can't cry now. so he reaches over tyler and grabs a bottle of champagne off the table. he doesn't want to seem depressed by drinking straight whiskey, so this seems like a fairly cheerier alternative. he takes a long sip, and burps. hey. it's bubbly, too.

"josh?" 

he turns around, eyes widened at the sight of (...fuck, what's his name? tyler had introduced them, back at brendon's, but how long ago was that? skinny, with dark hair that hung to his jaw... good jawline, damn, what was his name?) mikey. "hi!"

"wow, it's been ages," says mikey, and josh agrees, realizing he doesn't think he's ever talked to the boy. all he knows is he's got a boyfriend. or had. let's hope they're still together, or else josh is about to make this very awkward.

"yeah! how are things? you and pete?"

luckily, mikey smiles in response to that. "we're great. better than my brother and his boyfriend, anyway. not to bring up drama or anything."

"i live for drama," josh confesses, even though at this point he's had quite enough of it for the rest of his life. "but not right now. how's the party? enjoying yourself?"

"oh, for sure," mikey grins. there's a smirk hidden in there, although josh doesn't know why. "you have some wild guests here."

"yeah?" josh quirks an eyebrow.

there's a crash as the bathroom door flings open and bounces off the wall, swinging back shut. mikey glances around and then back at josh, fully smirking now. "i mean, they're doing coke in the bathroom, so i'd say yeah, pretty wild."

— oh, for fuck's sake.

this is what josh was worried about. this is why he was so hesitant to let tyler host this. because he fucking remembers. he knows what tyler had done, he knows tyler's past— hell, he knows his own past, and this...

"who?" he asks, the word falling out almost angrily. mikey blinks twice, surprised by josh's sudden change in demeanor. "mikey, who?"

"j-just—" he glances back over his shoulder, forehead wrinkling as he searches for a name. "gerard. he's—"

"your brother?" josh asks in half-disbelief.

the smirk is gone, replaced by desperate guilt. "i've tried to get him to stop, but he's—"

mikey trails off, unable to finish, but josh has heard enough. "i get it." he reaches out, covers mikey's hand with his own. "you're fine. have fun. i just gotta... gotta talk to some people." he gives mikey's hand a reassuring squeeze, then heads off, into the direction of the bathroom.

how did he fucking know this would happen?

he rolls back his shoulders and straightens out, steeling himself for what lays ahead. he's been clean for god knows how long now, longer than tyler has. he can deal with this. the temptation is long, long gone.

the bathroom door bounces open again when josh nears it. and yes, there's gerard, bent over the counter with a finger pressed to his nose. he straightens up when he hears josh walk over, and his face flushes red.

"joshie," he grins, one hand pressed to his rosy cheek. "how're you? wanna bit?" he gestures to the remaining white powder, and josh's gut twists with a sense of need that he hasn't felt in ages. desperation claws its way up his throat. no, no, no, he can't do this, but he needs it, he's going to die if he can't just—

gerard grabs his hand. "c'mon," he slurs messily, "i didn't bring alla this for nuffink, did i?"

it's almost comical how bad josh wants it— his eyes must be glazing over, mouth half open, maybe he's even drooling? but he can't, he knows this, as long as he keeps repeating it to himself it will be true.

"gerard," he says, voice hard and not shaking at all, "man, i appreciate you and all, but i really don't want this at my party. and i don't want to kick you out, so if you could—"

there's a pause where gerard blinks twice, his confusion identical to his brother's, and his cheeks grow even redder to match his hair. "oh. okay. i... i gotchu." he looks at the counter, and picks up his debit card, scraping the mess back into a plastic bag. "i'm, uh, ah. i'm sorry."

"it's all good," josh nods, his gut roiling, "i just wish you wouldn't get caught up in all that."

he can do this. he will not go back to old habits, he will not break his clean streak.

he will be fucking okay.

a/n: 1k words? really ace? very impressive i know