Just Wanna Be Yours (BoyXBoy)

Chapter 1

Surprisingly, it was a crowded night at "The Fog".

Ashton scanned around the small space, trying to find a free spot, but there was no use. Three chairs were free from the other side of the bar he was standing behind, but the tables that were scattered around the place were totally full.

Ashton had a weird feeling today, so he decided that the music should be accordingly weird. And so, the Smiths, Oasis, Radiohead and the Beatles ruled the playlist.

"Chips!" Dave said from behind me, placing the plate on the small window that separated the bar from the kitchen. There were no waiters in "The Fog". Ashton was the bartender, the waiter, the DJ and even answered the phone calls. When there were problems, or if hints of violence started in the pub, Ashton would whisper Dave's name through the window and Dave would come out of the kitchen. Dave had a comforting presence, and whoever saw him, suddenly was convinced that problems would be better solved with speaking. Dave was a big guy, his eyes sticking out and a big scar was stretched from his left ear to his neck. Even though the scar was a reminder of a sixth grade fall off a swing, it had an amazing influence on people.

Ashton took the plate off the window and shouted, "Who ordered the chips?!"

A man sitting on one of the tables with his friends got up and came to the bar. Ashton placed the plate on the bar, pointed at it and smiled, "Enjoy".

"Thanks" he said, going back to his table.

The tables were meant for small groups of friends, or for couples who somehow decided this would be a great place to get to know each other. The Bar was usually for the singles. Those who spoke too much and those who spoke too little. Today came Ashton's favourite silent people. The ageing and balding guy who kept sending perverted looks at the girls in the pub, the sweet guy from across the street, who kept himself busy with his cell phone while sipping from his glass, and the slim guy who sat there with a notepad and wrote a few words every couple of minutes.

The bar was really narrow. When you have such a small pub, you have to consider that a narrow bar equals another chair in the front tables. The place was owned by Ashton's uncle. His uncle was the only family he was left with beside his two little siblings, and Ashton worked here for money. Someone had to get money so they would have something to eat. So Ashton was here at the bar almost all the time. When he wasn't there he was with his brother and sister at home, that wasn't too far away from there. You could say Ashton was happy, but he was tired, he was always so tired. Sometimes he just wished he could get away, he wished that there was something to take his mind away from worrying all the time, worrying for his brother and sister, worrying for money, worrying that nothing bad would happen.

Harry groaned from the bar. "What now, Harry?" Ashton asked with a smile.

Harry was an old man who came here every night. "You seem hopeless tonight, Ashton. It's not like you. If someone should be hopeless it would be me, the food here is disgusting" he said, pushing his plate away from him.

"Hey! I can hear you, you know!" Dave shouted from the kitchen.

"The food has no taste at all. What can I do?" He said, thinking. "And even if it had taste, if I would hear another Pixies song, I would bring my flame-thrower and put this place on fire!" he said drunkly.

"And where did you get a flame-thrower from?" Ashton asked amusedly.

"I'll get one", he said "Maybe a friend will buy me one as a gift, it's my birthday today. Maybe when I get home I'll find a wrapped flame-thrower at my door?"

"It's your birthday, Harry? Why didn't you say so?" Ashton asked.

"There, I said it, now would you give me a present?" Harry asked, smiling.