Paul blinked once or twice, looking around him. He didn't know where he was, how he got there or, more important, why he was there. All he remembered was that he drank some beer…or maybe it was whiskey…and then he suddenly became unaware of what was happening around him. He felt like his whole brain was numb as he kept looking around with bleary eyes. There was a big room with lots of tables, high chairs and a counter. Oh, so it must be a bar.

He never had drinking problems before, but, after trying some beers some day, it slowly became a habit. It was pleasant and efficient way for him to forget about his troubles. With every sip of alcohol poured into his system, they were drowned, ripped off his soul, where they have been buried deep ever since he was young.

There were moments when he was repulsed by himself, but, sadly, they were more and more rare. He was aware that he became like his mother, and that was repulsing him the most. He had sworn he'd never be like them, he'd never make the same mistakes they did, but he failed in his mission. He was promising himself that he will stop in vain. It had already become an addiction. His organism needed alcohol now; he needed it to stay sane. He needed a strong will to stop, which he didn't have. It was helping him too much.

Paul reached the counter hardly. He leaned against it, turning his purple-haired head towards the waitress. Short, blonde and frilly, the waitress scowled at him.

"'Ey" Paul slurred. "Can you give me somethin' to drink?" the waitress nodded and disappeared behind the shelves. Paul looked around the room for the third time that night. It was amazing how many things he missed the first two times. His onyx eyes stopped on a certain person in the crowd. His handsome face, now transfigured by the alcohol effects, twisted into a nasty scowl. They were unmistakable. The basketball cap, the black unruly hair, the childish smile on his face. Ketchum. Ash Ketchum. But what was he doing in a bar. He just couldn't put Ash and a bar together. They didn't fit.

Ash Ketchum was another link of the chain that was tying him of these addictions. Even though he despised him even since they first met, Paul felt that something was special at his rival. That enthusiasm, trust, optimism and hope to become the greatest Pokemon Master couldn't be left unnoticed, and Paul was slightly impressed by this. He enjoyed seeing him working up to become the greatest of all, even though it was almost impossible with those weak Pokemon of his. The thing that annoyed him was that Ash seemed to copy his way of training, even though he never missed a chance to criticize it, saying how wrong it was. He had witnessed him: he was making some of his Pokemons attack other Pokemon for increasing its power, just like he did with Chimchar. And he had the nerve to say his ways of training were wrong.

"Hey, there's your drink!" the waitress said, placing a glass in front of him. The liquid looked pretty much like water. Paul took a generous sip of the drink. The liquid went straight to his stomach, burning his throat like he had swallowed a log on fire.

"What's that?" he asked the girl.

"Ţuică." she answered indifferently.

It was much harder than beer and whiskey, even harder than vodka. He felt like he had a whole herd of rabid Tauros in his stomach. He felt it rushing through his veins, raising to his head and hazing his sight. A smirk blossomed into the corner of his lips when his eyes fell again on Ash. He was still there, standing at a table and drinking something black which Paul though it was Cola. He swallowed the last sips of the heady liquor, cringing slightly and leading to his rival's table.

"Paul!" Ash exclaimed at the sight of the purple-haired boy. His eyes fell on the glass that Paul was still holding in his pale hand. Ash's heart cringed painfully. He knew what has happened: Paul had been drinking again. Ash had a little secret he hasn't told anyone, not even his friends. He developed a strong crush on his rival. He fell in love with him without even knowing. Ash knew Paul was drinking and it hurt him. He wanted bad to help him, but he knew Paul wouldn't accept advices from anyone, especially from his rival.

Tonight, Ash didn't think he'd fall in with Paul. He came there just to drink a Cola, then he planned to get home, but, seeing him, his plans where completely messed up. Paul put on his signature smug smirk. "What are you doing here, Ketchum?" Ash sighed.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Paul's smirk grew wider, showing his pearl-white perfect teeth.

"I have a reason to be there, but you don't. I thought children are not allowed in bars." Ash sighed once again.

"Quit drinking, Paul." he said slowly. He was looking everywhere, but Paul's face. Paul frowned.

"What was that?" he asked through his gritted teeth. Ash could sense anger in his voice. He was right: Paul won't accept advices. However…

"An advice. You're hurting yourself." Ash startled violently when Paul's clenched fist connected with the small table, making it shake awfully. Ash's empty glass tilted over and he caught it to keep it from rolling off the table and break. Many heads turned towards them. Paul's face was very close to Ash's. He could feel his warm, intoxicated breath hit his face in waves. Ash knew he had to be careful. Paul was unpredictable anyways, especially when he was drunk.

"Stop telling me what to do." he growled. "And why do you care, anyways? Huh?" Ash bit his lower lip. He couldn't merely tell me. He was aware Paul would never love him back, but sometimes he was making illusions. Sometimes he found himself making plans about how to tell Paul about his feelings. Every of them were successful, or at least they were in Ash's head. He was getting upset when he was thinking that they'll never be successful. But he couldn't feed only with dreams.

Ash swallowed hard, lifting his head to look at Paul. He was very close; he could see his reflection in his onyx eyes. "I care about you." he said honestly, lowering his head again and waiting. He was waiting for the storm to begin. Paul was going to be extremely furious. What if…? A spark of fear flew across his mind. What if he was going to beat him? He waited for something to happen, but nothing was happening. Ash was thinking if he should check if Paul was still there, when a cold hand gripped his chin. Ash startled slightly when his head was lifted, forced to look up. Before he could say something, he felt a pair of lips connect with his. Ash froze. He began to feel dizzy, part because he was kissing the boy he dreamed of for months and part because of Paul's toxic breath. The steams of alcohol were going straight to Ash's brain, making him feel numb. Paul ignored the heads turned towards them, the fingers pointed at them and the mumbles of the people and broke the kiss, his lips lowered at the level of Ash's neck, biting and sucking wildly at the tanned skin.

"Mmm…I love you, Paul." Ash stammered. Paul stopped all of the sudden, looking half scared, half angry at the boy in front of him. His stupefied mind couldn't process at its best now, but he knew he had done something wrong. Something unforgivable.

He pushed the younger boy so powerfully that he almost fell backwards with his chair. Now all the people in the bar were looking at them. Paul threw him a last furious glance and stormed off the bar.

Ash looked at the floor, confused. He shouldn't have done that. He felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes. He felt heartbroken.

No, Ash. He didn't drink enough to say he loves you.

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A/N: This idea hit me while listening to Lithium, by Evanescence. The line "didn't drink enough to say you love me" caught my attention and I thought I can make a story. :D

Please review!