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“Last call, lads,” said a grinning Niall Lynch, sidling up to some American tourists at the end of the bar.
“Oh, are you serious?”
“Jeez, what time is it?”
“What is it you all say over there? ‘You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here,’ aye?” Niall remained friendly enough, gathering their empty pints in front of them and starting to wrap up for the evening. “Thanks for stopping in.”
His two eldest sons were working the rest of the bar, cleaning glasses, wiping up as folks left. Matthew was off in the back, cleaning up with his wife, Aurora. The Lynch Pub was a well-oiled machine, busy throughout the year as a steady stream of tourists seemed to be looking for a pint and a hearty meal on the edge of Dublin.
Toward the back of the space, they pushed a few tables away to make way for the band. One of Ronan’s school friends, Noah, had a fairly decent group. They played a mixture of the oldie favorites to appease the regulars and some new alternative things that Niall didn’t so much appreciate, but the young folks seemed to like.
He grabbed a crate of dirty glasses, about to head to the back to load it up and check on his wife, when he clocked it. Ronan was leaning against the bar, cheeks rose-colored, holding back a smile. He was talking to an American boy, one Niall had first served before he switched over to handle the rowdy lot that came in after him. The kid had to have been around Ronan’s age, young and bright-eyed like a man who still had dreams for the future. He was tan with sandy, dusty colored hair, and a matching smile as he spoke back.
“Jesus, would you look at that,” Niall whistled low to Declan, who was wiping up the bar beside him. “Ronan’s found himself an American.”
Declan snorted and rolled his eyes. “Better than an Englishman.”
Niall barked a laugh. “Aye, that’s true,” he said, “though, your London gal, Jordan, turned out to be alright, didn’t she?”
Declan ducked his head to hide his own smile and flushed cheeks.
Nothing made Niall happier than seeing his boys happy. He’d been a bit worried about Ronan when he chose to stay close to home, opted out of university life and worked the bar. He wasn’t ambitious like Declan, he wasn’t flexible like Matthew, he was a homebody, stuck in his routine, and, if Niall were to guess, probably feeling a bit lonely. He worked the farm during the day and the pub at night, just like his father. Niall loved his boys, but he wanted a bit more for them. Maybe this was the right opportunity for Ronan to loosen up, have a bit of fun, branch out.
The crowd had thinned out because of course it did, but those who knew better of Niall Lynch announcing last call also knew to linger. A lock-in wasn’t always a guarantee, but the anticipation from the lingering guests in the room left the space buzzing. The band had stopped playing for a few, but they had yet to pack up. They were waiting for Niall to make the call.
And well who was he to ruin a night of fun for his boy? He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Ronan smiling like that.
Off to his left he locked eyes with Noah and nodded once. Noah grinned and the band began to play again just as Declan slipped under the bar to lock the doors. Niall looked over at Ronan, who was looking back, surprised. He shrugged and winked and headed into the back to look for his wife.
–
“I thought he said y’all were closing,” Adam said with a laugh. He had to nearly shout over the noise of Noah’s band. Ronan was fixated on the honey smooth cadence of his accent. He blinked a few times before he found the words to respond.
“Uh, yeah, guess we’re not.” He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning back at Adam.
“But a bunch of people left.”
Ronan sighed. “Ever heard of a lock-in?” When Adam shook his head, Ronan continued, “It’s an Irish thing, I guess. You kick out all of the tourists and keep in the good ones, you lock the doors and keep the pints flowing.”
“They locked the doors?!”
Ronan smirked and nodded.
Adam looked deep in concentration as he took in this new information. Only two pints in and Ronan could tell his face was a little flushed, his accent a bit more pronounced than when he first walked in. “But I’m a tourist.”
Ronan shrugged. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” he whispered as if they were both in on a secret together. He grinned when Adam smiled wide. “Do you want another one?”
“Yeah, sure, surprise me.”
Ronan nodded once and headed over to the taps. He was pouring another pint of amber ale when Declan took up the space beside him. “You’re off the clock.”
“Huh?”
“You’re off,” Declan said again slowly. “Matty’s coming up to help out.”
Ronan felt like this was a trick, but he almost didn’t want to question it. He’d rather head back to Adam. Still, he wondered if his dad was mad at him or something. “Why?”
“‘Cause you’re no help anyway. You’re too distracted ,” Declan laughed and made an obvious gesture toward the other end of the bar where Adam was.
Ronan’s cheeks warmed. Was he that obvious? “Fuck you.”
“Oi! I’m just trying to help you.”
“Quit it,” Matthew came up behind them, wrapping an arm around both brother’s shoulders and settling in between. He tilted toward the end of the bar and cooed, “Oh, is that him?”
“Fuck off!” Ronan shrugged out of his younger brother’s grip and tried to keep his face from reddening any further.
“Come on, we’re happy for you,” Matthew said with a grin, keeping his arm around Declan’s shoulders and pulling him in close. Declan wrinkled his nose and shrugged away to deliver another pint to someone else at the bar.
“There’s nothing to be happy about, shut up.”
“Aw, there’s loads to be happy about! What’s his name, then?”
Ronan did not answer his brother, but simply turned on his heel and walked away. Sometimes he really hated how nosey his family was, but in the end he really loved them. If anyone in his family didn’t like someone he was dating, he wouldn’t date them. Hell, he wouldn’t even consider them. Despite his constant bickering with Declan, Ronan still would take his opinion into account as well.
Being twenty-three and working at his father’s pub with his immediate family had its good days and bad, but mostly good. It was nice to know that with a look or a gesture they could communicate wordlessly across a room full of people.
Ronan was always under the impression that he would take on this place when Niall retired, if he ever did. Declan had just finished university and was helping out during the peak tourist season; he had a real nine to five in the proper city. Matthew was looking at starting university next year, but he had just come back from backpacking around the country with some friends.
Ronan was the only one who felt drawn to this place, to staying here. He always felt like there was a reason for it, something keeping him close. If anyone asked him, Ronan wouldn’t say he believed in fate, but tonight, perhaps, he did.
Adam was an American tourist in town for a research program at University of Dublin. He was a Harvard graduate, looking to get his doctorate in something so complicated and academic that Ronan wasn’t sure he would ever be able to understand. Adam happened upon Lynch’s Pub on a whim, just needing a place to unwind for the night.
All of the cards were stacked against them and Ronan didn’t do flings or casual things. But he wasn’t thinking long term right now, he was just thinking that he liked making Adam smile at him and he very much wanted to keep talking to him.
Somehow, he made his way back down to Adam and managed to settle the full pint glass in front of him without his hands shaking too much.
“Thanks,” Adam’s smile made Ronan focus on his mouth, his full lower lip, what it would be like to feel those lips against his.
He swallowed down that train of thought, cleared his throat, and ducked down to grab a cider, popping the cap off on the side of the bar and clinking the bottle against Adam’s glass.
“Sláinte.”
They took a drink. Ronan’s eyes wandered to the band. Noah was sitting with an acoustic guitar in his lap, leaning so far back he could topple over. He was shouting more than singing an old tune that the rest of folks sang along to, grinning so wide he couldn’t get some of the words out.
“Um, do they need something?”
Ronan followed Adam’s line of sight to his brothers, whispering to each other and cackling. He picked up a stack of coasters and flung them down the bar. “No, they’re just a couple of idiots,” his voice got louder to make sure they heard him, “who need to learn to mind their own business!”
Adam smirked, taking another sip of his pint. “Sorry, I feel like I’ve been keeping you.”
“Hm? Oh, nah, you haven’t. I’m off now anyway.” Ronan ducked under the bar and sat on a stool beside Adam. They sat beside each other for a moment or two, thighs pressed together, pint glass and bottle clinking as their hands brushed. They looked ahead at the band, but Ronan’s entire focus was on the warmth of Adam’s body next to him.
“So, you got a girlfriend back home?” Ronan tripped over himself trying to add in, “or a boyfriend?”
Adam smiled, licked his lips and shook his head. “No, neither.”
Ronan’s heart was racing, pounding against his ribs. “How long are you in town for?”
Adam let his arm drift and brush against Ronan’s as he lifted his pint to his lips. Ronan watched him swallow. “Six months,” he said, pupils wide, lips red. His eyes drifted to Ronan’s mouth as Ronan’s drifted to his.
That was both a lifetime and a blink. But here in his family’s pub, staring at Adam Parrish, time seemed to slow down for them. If six months was all he had, he was going to make the most of it.