#party pushing the buttons of the nicest dude in the group

[firbolgfriend]

I got your fucking whoreoscope for you right here. You will suffer beyond imagination.

[rossfckinlynch-blog]

PSA

SOOOOOO i’ve been writing fanfiction for quite some time now, and today i finally decided to post a little something i’ve been working onnnnnn let me know what y’allllll think about it

Warnings: drinking/cursing

Chapter One: Hey Bartender 

       I woke up on August 24, 2017 the way I did any other Friday morning. At 11:30, my alarm went off. I hadn't gotten until 4 am the night before, so a good 7 and a half hours of sleep would be enough for the day. I drug myself from my bed and draped open my bedroom curtains. Although I'd been living at the beach for almost two months, I never grew tired of the ocean view I got everyday.

         I quickly changed into a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt, and ran a brush through the mess on my head. I smacked my thin framed glasses on my face and made my way to the kitchen. In kitchen I found my husky, tattooed roommate sitting at the table, drinking his black coffee and eating his Fruity Pebbles.

         My daily routine was going as it always had, but in a way, it felt off. Something about today felt different, a good different.

         "Morning." I yawned to him, pulling a coffee mug out of the counter for myself.

         "What time did you get in?" I heard him ask before shoving a spoon full of cereal into his mouth.

         "Around 4."

         I poured myself a cup of coffee, grabbed my Salted Caramel creamer, and took a seat across from him.

         "Why so late?" He asked. "I thought you were done at 2."

         I sipped my coffee before answering him.

         "I closed down around 3, but decided to help Joe clean up everything, then he walked me home." I replied, and his eyes narrowed.

         "I thought I told you I didn't want Joe walking you home, or you being there alone with him." He said, his voice harsh.

         "Calm down, Dad." I laughed. "Joey's harmless."

         "For now." He raised his eyebrow. "At the end of the day Joe's a man, and I know how men think."

         I raised a brow back at him.

         "You know how gay men think." I corrected him, causing a smile to form on his face.

         I had met Chase in March of 2017. I had taken a weekend trip to the beach with my mom, sister, aunt, and a few family friends. Although I wasn't 21 yet, I had a fake ID and got into all of the bars. The bar Chase worked at, which I work now, was attached to our hotel. I quickly befriended Chase and when the weekend was over I revealed my secret, I was only 20 and he had been serving me for the last three days.

         He laughed about it, and felt connected to me enough to fill a secret in about his own self. The handsome, strong, inked up bartender that my sister and aunt's friends had spent the weekend swooning over was into dudes. I'd never had a gay friend before, and I thank God every day for now having one.

         After that March weekend, Chase and I kept in touch. We'd take weekend trips to visit each other, and when I finally turned 21 in June, he was there to help me bring it in. In our months of friendship, we'd talked about things we wanted to do with our lives, and mistakes we'd made in the past.

         Remembering my fantasy of one day living at the beach, spending the summer figuring myself out, Chase got me a job at the bar we met at, and asked me to move in with him a week after my birthday. It was an easy yes for me, being the beach was only an hour away from my friends and family at home. So, mid-June I packed up my things, and drove my red pick-up truck down to the shore.

         Since then, I'd fallen in love with the bartending life. It was summer, in my favorite place on Earth, working (most nights) alongside of one of my best friends. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

         "What do you work tonight?" Chase stood from the counter, dumping his remains in the sink before immediately washing the dishes he'd just used.

         "Supposed to be 5-2." I told him. He told me he'd been scheduled the same shift. When it came to working together, Chase and I had been just as in-sync as we were in real life. Thanks to this trait, we spent a lot of weekend nights on the same schedule.

         "Was thinking maybe I'd gym for a little, then come back, eat and nap before work." He told me.

         "Sounds good to me." I nodded, taking one last swig of my coffee before handing it to him to wash.

         "Great." He smiled, and I made my way back to my bedroom.

-----

         The “off feeling” continued when I got to work. For a Friday night, there was an odd amount of people at the bar. The dancefloor was tight, and most of the seats at the bar were taken. But, when a group of 7 came in and was able to fit, I knew it wasn’t a regular Friday night. They were on Chase’s end, so he served them, but I watched closely because they looked like a familiar bunch.

         “’Scuse me!” A voice chimed, pulling my attention away from Chase.

         I turned to see a girl waving a $5 bill over the bar at me.

         “What can I get for ya?” I asked in my nicest voice, even though the money waving had really pissed me off.

         “A vodka sprite.” She said with her nose in the air.

         I grabbed a glass and made her drink, setting it down on the bar in front of her.

         I took the 5 she had laid and put her $1.25 in front of her. She scooped up her change and walked away. No “thank you”, no tip, not even any eye contact.

         “Bitch.” I whispered under my breath, then turned to help another customer. A few minutes had gone by, and I felt Chase walk up behind me.

         “The blonde over there, black and tan button up.” He said calmly. I looked around the bar, and found the guy he was talking about, sitting among the party who had just walked in.

         “What about him?” I asked.

         “Bought you this.” Chase told me, and I looked down. In his hand he held what looked like Jameson and Ginger Ale.

         “No way.” I shook my head, laughing, then looked back at the blonde.

         He was handsome, very handsome. He sat conservatively at the bar, sipping on what looked like a whisky and coke.

         “What did he say?” I hinted at Chase for details.

         “Asked what the cute bartender in the denim shorts usually drank.” He laughed. “I told him a bottle of Miller Lite would do.”

         I started cracking up, because Chase was also in denim shorts, and Miller Lites were his drink of choice.

         “Then, when I realized he and I weren't on the same team..." He joked. “I told him your drink and he asked if he could buy you one.”

         “Should I go thank him?” I asked, taking the drink from his hands.

         “Um, yeah!” He exclaimed. “I’ll take this side for a little, go.”

         I took a huge swig from my drink, and made my way over to where Blondie was sitting.

         I wondered what I would say to get his attention, but as I made my way over he looked up, and our eyes met.

         "Is it rude if I say I've never met a girl who drinks whiskey like I do?" He smiled, before I had the chance to thank him for the drink.

         "Not rude. Just seems like you haven't been associating yourself with the right kind of girls." I joked.

         I decided to play it cool, and asked the guy next to him if he was ready for a refill.

         "Please." The brunette responded. "My credit card's running a tab back there."

         "What are you drinking?" I asked, continuing to ignore the blonde.

         "Rum and coke." He told me, and I nodded. I turned my back to them and made his drink.

         "I'm Ross, by the way." I heard the blonde's voice shouting over my shoulder.

         "Cassie." I finally looked back at him.

         "Nice to meet you." He replied with a grin on his face.

         "Likewise." I nodded.

         "Thank you for the drink." I smiled, taking a quick sip from the glass.

         "My pleasure."

         He downed the last of his drink, but didn't push his glass towards me. That action all but made me putty in this guy's hands. My biggest pet peeve with being a bartender was when people waved their money at me, or pushed their drinks towards me as if I didn't realize the glass was empty.

         "Another one?" I asked, reaching to grab his glass.

         "Yeah, please." He said. "Jack and coke."

         I filled his cup, putting in a little extra than I normally would before returning it to the coaster in front of him.

         "That one's on me." I winked at him.

         He smiled as he thanked me, then held his glass to mine. We clinked, and drank. We spent a majority of that night, clinking many drinks that were bought between the two of us. We got more acquainted, and I had introduced him and his group to Chase.

         I had discovered that the party he had come in with were his siblings, and his sister's boyfriend. They were in town for a show, and decided to make a small vacation out of it.

         The more we talked, the more attracted I found myself to him. There were times where I would've done anything for just a few seconds alone with him.

         The night came to an end and before any of us knew it, it was 2:00 and it was time to shut down. Chase called "last call" and those left at the bar finished up their drinks. Ross, his sister, and the rest of the boys began getting themselves ready to go.

         I tried to pretend not to pay attention to the fact they were leaving, and that I was concerned if I would see him again.

         "Before I go..." I finally heard Ross speak up. I turned eagerly to face him, and this was the first time I saw him standing up. He had to be at least 6'1, and he was now wearing a leather jacket.

         "Will you be here tomorrow?" He asked.

         "Yeah." I nodded. "I work at 11."

         "Okay. We've got some sibling stuff to do tomorrow, but I'll probably be back in to see you at some point."

         "Okay." I smiled, a poor attempt to hide my excitement.

         "Nice to meet you!" A drunk Rydel called to me as her boyfriend, Ellington, practically carried her out of the bar.

         "Are you guys good to get home?" I worried. They'd been at the bar since 11, and seemed as though they were drinking a lot.

         "Yeah." He laughed. "Riker called us an Uber."

         Riker was Ross's oldest brother.

         "Okay, good." I reached forward to grab their empty glasses.

         "Tomorrow." He put his hand down on the bar.

         "Goodnight, Ross." I winked at him, then said goodbye to his brothers, and they left. I turned around to get rid of their glasses and Chase appeared next to him.

         "You can put your tongue back in your mouth." He nudged me.

         "Fuck off." I laughed, throwing their glasses into the sink to wash.

         "Do you like him?" He poked, cleaning off the bar behind me.

         "No." I shook my head, lying a bit. "I just met him."

         "But you wanna fuck him, right?" His face was now right on my shoulder.

         "You know, not everyone wants to fuck every attractive guy they meet." I joked. "That's just you."

         "Oh, whatever." He groans. "I know you, and in a matter of days he'll be just another notch on your bedpost."

         I turn around and punched Chase's gigantic bicep as hard as I could. Of course, he barely felt it, and continued wiping and cleaning the bar.

         "Get me a shot." He told me, as he began boxing up the empty cases of beer to take out back.

         I pulled down a bottle of Jameson and poured us each a shot. At that point, Chase had returned and stood next to me.

         "Here's to you fucking Blondie." He winked.

         "And to you minding your own business." I spat back, and he laughed. We cheered our shot glasses, and slug them down. We finished cleaning, and taking shots, and stumbled down 3 blocks and into our apartment sometime around 3.

         Chase and I said goodnight to each other, and I headed to my bedroom. I thought fondly of Ross. Although I had just only met him, I started to piece together why the day had felt so out of the ordinary to me. And I hoped that in some way, it had something to do with him.