The Haunted Pub

by Melanie Tushmore

  Sammy smirked. "The brat wriggled away from him, and ran back in there." He indicated to the pigeon loft with a jerk of his head.

  Ryan didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like the thought of going back in the pigeon loft either, but he wasn't about to leave Ginger on his own.

  First things first, though. "Sammy," he said. "Can you please cover the bar? Rachel is getting swamped, and she's off in an hour."

  Sammy didn't look pleased. "And what happens in an hour? I'm not working on my own, Ryan."

  "When you get down there, call Pete and ask him to come back before seven. Explain it's urgent. He's probably at Tony's, so he won't be far away."

  "All right, fine," Sammy muttered.

  "And Matt." Ryan addressed the bigger man. "Are you prepped for the evening run? Solstice is on tonight, so it's bound to get busy later."

  "Yeah," Matt answered guiltily. "I'll go get ready." He moved off, with Sammy close behind him.

  A loud crash from the pigeon loft demanded Ryan's attention.

  Ginger. Fizz. Right.

  He stepped inside, rounding the open doorway to Fizz's room. Ginger stood in the centre, holding his hands out like he was trying to instil calm. Ryan could see random objects lying on the floor: a torn pillow, feathers, the old stereo, now smashed and broken. Fizz was on the far side of the room, almost against the wall. He brandished a small lamp like a weapon, its broken wire trailing on the floorboards. He looked like a cornered animal, ready to fight.

  Ryan's heart pounded. He was scared, but he had to help. Ginger was usually so good at calming people down; an expert at diffusing drunken pub brawls before they happened. Maybe because Fizz was his cousin, he wasn't thinking clearly. Backing him into a corner obviously wasn't helping matters.

  Ryan stepped into the room. "Hey," he said softly. Ginger looked round at him, obvious relief in his eyes. Ryan knew he'd do anything for that look. "It's okay," he said, fingers gently brushing Ginger's arm. "I think you're scaring him. Step back a minute."

  Ginger looked upset at that suggestion. "But he needs a doctor."

  "I know," Ryan said. "But let's stay calm, yeah?" He pressed Ginger's arm, just a gentle push. Ginger thankfully took the hint, and stepped back. The skin on Ryan's fingers burned from the contact, but he had to ignore it. He turned his attention to Fizz. Instead of approaching him, Ryan went to Fizz's bed. He sat down on one side, leaving plenty of room. "Fizz?" he said, patting the mattress. "Come sit with me."

  Ryan wasn't sure it would work, but Fizz immediately fixed his eyes on Ryan. He dropped the lamp and it clattered onto the floor, its bulb smashing on impact. Fizz didn't appear to notice as he hurried to the bed. He dropped onto it, settling beside Ryan, and wrapped his arms around him. Ryan tried to stay sitting up, even as Fizz attempted to pull him down. Ryan bit his lip.

  Here we go again.

  He was relieved he'd managed to placate Fizz, but now they were back to square one. Looking up at Ginger, Ryan tried to speak calmly. "I've sent Sammy down to the bar to help Rachel. Hopefully Pete will be back soon, so that's the bar covered. Matt's in the kitchen." He squirmed as Fizz rubbed himself against his body. "And... er, Ash is on his way," he added, voice cracking slightly.

  "Ash?" Fizz breathed. "He's coming?"

  Ryan cleared his throat. "Yes."

  "Good," Ginger grumbled. "He can tell us what the fuck's going on."

  "Daniel," Ryan said firmly. He twisted his face away from Fizz, trying to keep eye contact with Ginger. "I spoke to Ash, and he knew nothing about the pills."

  "That's right." Fizz chuckled, hands ruffling through Ryan's hair. "He didn't know."

  "Yeah." Ryan tried to hold Fizz's hands still. "So don't go biting his head off," he said to Ginger. "Ash hasn't done anything."

  Ginger stood there, scowling, his hands on slim hips. "I still don't like it."

  "Let's try to sort it out together, okay?" Ryan pleaded. "See if you can find the pill packet. There's got to be some information on it."

  Ginger blinked, then glanced down at Fizz's strewn belongings. "Right," he said, snapping into action. At last, Ryan thought. Maybe if they found the pills, it would explain something about Fizz's strange behaviour. He tried to ignore the niggling worm of doubt in his mind.

  * * * *

  Ryan supposed they were extremely lucky that when Ash arrived, Ginger was on the phone to a medical helpline. At least Ginger's mobile phone worked in the room. Ginger hadn't been able to determine anything helpful from the pill packet, or the little leaflet of manufacturer's guidelines, so he'd called up the information number listed. They hadn't been much use either, and had transferred him to a medical helpline instead.

  Ryan kicked himself for not thinking of that sooner. He had called up a doctor's helpline a few months ago, in the middle of the night. Matt had been suffering from stomach pain, and was convinced his appendix was about to burst, or something equally dramatic. The helpline had been very thorough, but after all that fuss, Matt's pain had turned out to be nothing more than trapped wind.

  Ginger was on his phone, pacing the floor, in the middle of explaining Fizz's symptoms. He scowled at Ash as he entered the room, but Ash didn't seem to notice. "Hey," he said breathlessly, staring down at them.

  "Hey," Ryan replied. "Did you run here?"

  "Yeah, pretty much," Ash gasped. "Well, I started running, then realised how incredibly unfit I am."

  "Join the club," Ryan said.

  "Um, so...?" Ash stared at Fizz.

  That's the pleasantries over with, then, Ryan thought. Fizz had dozed off, now lying on Ryan's chest. Ryan had been fighting an onset of drowsiness himself. He felt like he didn't ever want to get up again. "Fizz?" he said, shifting gently. He could feel the boy breathing, and luckily, the breaths seemed fairly even. "Fizz?"

  "Hmm." Fizz stirred, clutching onto Ryan.

  "Ash is here."

  Fizz's eyes flew open, searching wildly. When they found Ash, a smile spread over his face. "Ash." He pushed Ryan away, quite forcefully, and held his arms out for Ash.

  Ash looked confused. He glanced at Ryan, then at Ginger. Ryan also looked to Ginger, just to check he wasn't about to leap forward and batter Ash to a pulp. Ginger scowled in their direction, but thankfully remained on the phone. "Yes," he ground out. "No, we don't think he's taken anything else..."

  "Ash," Fizz pleaded. "Come here."

  Ash threw off his jacket, and stepped forward. He crouched as he neared the mattress, leaning toward Fizz. "Hey. Are you... okay?"

  Ryan watched Fizz wrap arms around Ash, a smile over his face. He closed his eyes, and simply melted into him as Ash hugged him back. "I'm better now."

  Ryan couldn't help feel a little jealous at the sight. These two were so obviously into each other, and the breathiness of both their voices was going straight to his cock, making him feel horny again. Dammit.

  Feeling embarrassed, Ryan edged away, trying to give them room. He looked at Ginger, still talking on the phone. From the clipped words he was using, Ryan could tell he was getting impatient with the other person's apparent lack of answers.

  Ryan tried to think. What else hadn't they covered? Fizz had been fine until he'd taken his pills, so it had to be a medical issue, surely? Was the boy was having a mental breakdown? Ryan glanced at Fizz, wrapped around Ash. He didn't look like he was having a breakdown. But then, Ryan wasn't quite sure what a breakdown was like. Fizz was a little weird, after all. Maybe this had been brewing for a while.

  Well, when all else failed... "I'm going to put the kettle on," Ryan said decidedly. He really needed a cup of tea. Maybe slip some whiskey in, too. Seeing as Matt had never produced that tea Ginger had asked for, Ryan thought he'd make it himself.

  He pulled himself up, perhaps a little too quickly, as he got a head rush, swaying on his feet. Ginger stepped in, steadying him with a hand to his arm. Ginger's hand was hot. Ryan's arms were bare, and the touch zinged through his body. His cock definitely noticed.

&nb
sp; "I'm fine," Ryan said curtly, shying away from Ginger's touch.

  Ginger looked surprised, but didn't reply. Still on the phone, his eyes watched Ryan, yet Ryan couldn't take it. He walked away, desperate to escape the pigeon loft. How could the place feel stuffy even when it was cold?

  He hated that room.

  Ryan hurried into the kitchen. He filled the kettle, then tried to set it back on its stand. The kettle wouldn't quite fit, and Ryan wrestled with it a moment before slamming it down hard. Stupid thing. He flicked the switch on, irritation rolling through him. Breathing in deep, Ryan willed himself not to lose it.

  Get a grip, Ryan. Get a grip.

  He leaned against the sink, staring out of the window at white clouds, while he waited for the kettle to boil. Absently, his hand came up to brush the patch of skin on his arm that Ginger had touched. The kettle rattled away, coming to boil.

  "Ryan?"

  At the sound of his voice, Ryan turned. Ginger stood in the doorway, watching him. He still held the mobile near his ear. Ryan took another breath in. Oh, boy. The water inside the kettle bubbled, almost whistling as the kettle switched itself off.

  "Yeah?"

  Ginger opened his mouth, but paused before he said anything. A buzzing, bodiless voice from the phone asked him a question. "Yes, I'm still here," Ginger said. "Can you hang on a sec?"

  Ryan exhaled. Well, if Ginger wasn't going to talk to him, he might as well get on with making the tea. He moved away from the sink, opening the overhead cupboard, and took out four clean mugs. "Yes, I understand..." Ginger said to the phone.

  Ryan picked up the box of PG Tips, and threw a teabag into each mug. He picked up the kettle, pouring in hot water, then found a tea spoon to poke at the bags. He watched the tea brew, staining the water dark brown. Keep calm.

  "Look, just a sec," Ginger said, then, "Ry?"

  Ryan forced his eyes to remain on the tea. "Mm?"

  "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine," he answered, perhaps a little too quickly. He opened the fridge, grabbed the milk, and unscrewed the top. He sniffed it out of habit, checking if it was all right. Having passed the test, the milk was added to the mugs.

  "Yes, I'm still here!" Ginger snapped at the phone.

  Ryan picked up the tea spoon, squeezed out the tea bags, and deposited them in a neat pile on a saucer. He added a spoon of sugar to his tea, stirring it in. The spoon clinked against the mug.

  "Look, forget it." Ginger ended the call. He chucked his phone onto the counter with a loud clatter. "Fucking waste of time," he muttered.

  Ryan looked up at him. "What did they say?"

  Ginger shrugged. "Not a lot. Just kept saying we'd better take Fizz to casualty if we're worried about what he's taken."

  "Oh."

  "Yeah."

  Ryan put down the tea spoon. He chose one of the mugs with no sugar, and slid it along the counter.

  "Thanks," Ginger said, though he didn't pick up the mug. "Um, look, I don't think I want hot liquid or anything breakable near Fizz. He was throwing stuff at me before."

  "Oh." Ryan blinked down at the tea. "Right. Sure."

  "Maybe just give him water, in a plastic cup?"

  "Okay. No problem." Ryan picked up two of the mugs, carried them to the sink, and sloshed the tea away. That was a waste of two teabags. He left the mugs on the sideboard, still marvelling at how clean it was since Fizz had taken to washing up all the time. Poor Fizz.

  "Ryan?"

  "Hm?"

  "I'm sorry... about snapping at you before."

  Ryan shrugged it off, though his heart was pounding. "Don't worry."

  "I feel like... I dunno." Ginger huffed out a sigh. "I felt really weird earlier, and I don't know why. I haven't been sleeping well, and I had a really bad headache. I know that's not an excuse… I didn't mean to take it out on you. I'm sorry."

  Ryan felt relief course through him, swiftly followed by a swathe of stronger emotions. He looked at Ginger, trying to keep himself together. He didn't trust his voice, so he nodded. It was moments like these when he worried he was simply going to burst. When those golden-brown eyes stared back at him, seeming to wait for something, Ryan couldn't bear it any longer.

  "Daniel, I—"

  "Ryan!" Ash called from down the hall. "Guys? Ryan!"

  Ginger dashed away, and the moment was lost. Ryan tamped down his disappointment. Ash had called them. What was happening now?

  He followed Ginger, and they ran back to the pigeon loft. Ash was wrestling with Fizz on the mattress. He looked up, panicked. "I don't know what to do! He keeps trying to—"

  He didn't have to finish. It was obvious what Fizz was trying to do from the way he'd wrapped himself around Ash, still thankfully fully clothed, although maybe not for long. His hands were under Ash's shirt, pulling, groping. Ash kept shifting around, not actually moving away, but trying to block Fizz's hands without hurting him.

  Ryan glanced at Ginger, who looked halfway between furious and upset. Ryan made the decision to step in, before Ginger got too angry. "Okay," he said, approaching the bed. "Let's stay calm. I'm going to sit down too."

  "What will that do?" Ash grumbled. Fizz groaned beneath him, rubbing himself against Ash like an animal in heat.

  "I—I don't know," Ryan said truthfully. "Give you a break, maybe? I mean, he didn't get this bad with me." He sat down, grasping one of Fizz's hands gently. "Fizz? It's Ryan. Hey, calm down, okay?"

  Fizz's eyes opened. Their dark depths swirled, then focussed on him in a challenging look. Ryan wasn't sure he liked that look much. It didn't seem like the Fizz he knew. "Fizz?" he said, holding the boy's hand. "Everything's okay."

  Fizz's other hand abandoned Ash. In a movement too fast to follow, Fizz smacked his hand across Ryan's face, pulling himself free from Ryan in the process. Ryan's eyes closed on impact, completely caught off guard. A high-pitched ringing sounded in his ears, then died away. Stunned, Ryan found himself slumped against the wall. His eyes blinked open.

  I can't believe he hit me.

  Ash scrambled from the bed to get away. Fizz crouched in the covers, growling, like he was ready to spring on Ryan any second. Shit, Ryan thought. Was he really about to get beat up by Fizz, of all people?

  "Jamie, fuck! What did you do that for?" Strong, warm arms wrapped around Ryan from behind, and he was yanked back. Ginger pulled him away, out of danger, and helped him to stand. Ryan was still in shock, first from the brutal slap, and now from being held by Ginger. His cheek throbbed. Ginger's hands were on his shoulders holding him steady. "Ryan, you're bleeding."

  "Huh?" Ryan touched his face, feeling it was wet. When he looked at his fingers, glistening red blood covered them. "Oh."

  "Shit," Ginger muttered breathlessly. "Shit, shit, shit."

  "I'm okay," Ryan said. He wasn't entirely sure if he was, but he wanted to keep Ginger calm. Why was he bleeding? Fizz must have scratched him. How on earth did he have nails long enough? Ginger pressed something to his cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan could see it was Ginger's bandanna, the one usually tied around his leg, or hung from his belt loop.

  "Sorry," Ginger apologised, seeing Ryan had noticed. "It's mostly clean. You're bleeding loads."

  Ryan held onto the bandanna, applying pressure. "Thanks," he mumbled.

  "What the fuck?" Ash was by his side. He watched the bed warily, where Fizz was still crouched, glaring at them. "What's up with his eyes?"

  "Huh?" Ryan didn't understand.

  "His eyes," Ash hissed. "His eyes are brown."

  Ginger frowned. "What?"

  "Fizz's eyes are blue," Ash said.

  "You just said they were brown?" Ginger countered.

  "His eyes should be blue," Ash said quietly, glancing over at Fizz. "Now they're brown. They're actually brown. Tell me what drugs there are, prescription or otherwise, that change a person's eye colour from blue to brown?"

  "What?" Ginger glanced back at Fizz, and hissed, "Are you sure?"

  "He's
right," Ryan said, realisation dawning. "Fizz should have blue eyes, but his eyes were brown just now."

  "I am right," Ash said. "I know I'm right, but what does it fucking mean?"

  Ryan dared to look over at Fizz. He stayed crouched on the bed, keeping his eyes on them all the while. "I don't know. I just don't know."

  Chapter 15

  "Ryan," Fizz called to him. "Ryan, I'm sorry."

  Ryan tensed against Ginger. Fizz didn't sound all that sorry. In fact, he didn't sound much like Fizz at all. Fizz was normally shy, quiet, and sincere to a fault. This voice was sly, mocking. Had those pills really done that to Fizz? Ryan's thoughts whirled in panic. His cheek throbbed in time with his heart; he could feel the scratch marks sting.

  Ginger prised Ryan's hand away from his face, peeking under the bandanna. "Shit." He quickly pressed it back. "You're still bleeding."

  "It's okay," Ryan said absently. He tried to think, but he felt tired, like he had a headache coming on. "I—I need to get out of this room."

  "Yeah, me too," Ash murmured.

  "Okay, right." Ginger guided him out of Fizz's room. Ryan hadn't expected that, but he wasn't about to complain. He thought he could get used to the feel of Ginger's body against his, under different circumstances, perhaps. Ash was right behind them. Almost as soon as they left the pigeon loft, Ryan's head cleared of its fog. However, being in such close proximity to Ginger clouded his senses in an entirely different way. Ryan's heart thudded deeply, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

  Ginger took him into the bathroom, and stood over him. "Ash," Ginger said, not taking his eyes off Ryan. "In the kitchen is a green first-aid box, on top of the fridge."

  "Right." Ash darted off.

  Ryan stared at Ginger, his hands itching to touch the man in front of him. He couldn't even feel bad about the scratch now, if this was what it had given him. Ginger frowned slightly, eyes focussed on Ryan's cheek. "Let's have another look. If this doesn't stop bleeding we'll have to get you up to A&E, too."

  "I'm sure it's fine," Ryan breathed. Being this close but not touching was killing him. Ryan wanted to press his body against Ginger's the way Fizz had been pressing against him earlier. That brief physical contact had flipped a switch inside him, and he needed to touch. Ryan felt the heat coming off Ginger, could even smell the different scents on him, knew what each of them were. The slightly peppery aftershave, the sweet, synthetic smell of hair dye and shampoo, and underneath all that, the delicate musk of sweat that went straight to Ryan's head. He remembered the way Fizz had nuzzled at his neck, and it took all his willpower to stay still, to not move forward and do the same to Ginger now.