We Danced Anyway [Larry Stylinson // Travel 🖤 AU]

Chapter One: Jason

He had fought against it tooth and nail; one step away from literally kicking and screaming and throwing a tantrum, but he was twenty-one and it seemed a bit infantile to literally drop to the floor and shriek.

"Please just go. He's your father."

"It's never mattered to him. Why should it matter to me?"

"It mattered to him financially, at least. He's taken care of you, whether or not he's-" Anne waved her hand in the air, desperate to find the appropriate words, "physically present in our lives. Besides, it's a free vacation to a gorgeous resort in Mexico. He's offered to pay for everything."

"What if I don't want to go to Mexico?" He sighed, rolling his eyes and refusing to exit the bed covers. Juvenile, yes, but better than a tantrum.

"Harry," his mother grunted, yanking the bedding away. "He's your father."

"Why do you even like him? He left you."

"Our marriage ended because your father prefers the company of men. There are a lot of things we could have changed about ourselves to make it work, but your father couldn't make himself any less gay more than I grow a cock."

"MUM!" He screeched, pulling the covers back up. No. No way.

"Plus he gave me you two. I could have come out of everything a lot worse off."

Harry didn't reply. How could she still defend the man? He and his mother had split up before he could even speak and he hadn't seen them in ten years except for a few hours on the occasional holiday. Hell, Harry even called him by his first name because he'd never even acted like their father.

"Please? He invited all of us, but your sister is far too pregnant to travel and I don't have anymore vacation time left."

"I'm. Not. Going." He spat forcefully, his breath warm on the underside of his navy patchwork comforter. From within the depths, he heard his mother heave a resigned sigh and stand.

"Fine. You're an adult. I can't make you." He imagined her checking the time, then patting where his head was before turning to leave. "I'll call you father and let him know you won't be attending."

No, Harry thought, feeling his phone buzz at his side. I'm not going to fly thirteen hours in coach to watch my father marry some old queen I've never even met.

Hearing his door shut, he reached down to check his phone.

Hey.

His mouth slowly melted into a soft grin.

How was your day?

Harry had only been living at home for three weeks in the annoying gap between his old, single lease ending and finally moving in with his boyfriend after two YEARS of dating.

Everything was falling into place. Harry had finally gotten the confectionary off the ground and with both his and Jason's leases ending, it felt like it was time. His boyfriend was well-off and had a very lucrative job working for Google at their Manchester headquarters, but had recently bid for a major promotion. Everything was going to be perfect and he wouldn't have to worry about his lecherous, nonexistent father or how he would provide for the family he'd grown up in.

Sure, his father had sent them an exorbitant amount of money every month following his absence from their family. They'd never struggled for anything - except for an actual dad. Anne had done it all, chauffeuring them around to school and lessons and clubs and teaching the kids how to drive and shave. And now, two decades after moving out, Harry's father was getting remarried. To some random man he'd been dating for less than a year that Harry hadn't even seen or met or knew anything about. He was certain his mother had told him the guy's name, but for the life of him, he couldn't recall.