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

Chapter Three: Something Fruity, but Different

Harry arrived at the bar, pleased to see that his father possessed the foresight to choose a gay-friendly resort, judging from the amount of men in hot pants and leather vests. He struggled not to roll his eyes, but already felt a bit on display in his white top, reaching up to button it a bit further.

He didn't want to hook up. He wasn't down in the bar to take somebody back to his room. He just wanted to tip the bartender enough to be sure he was drowning in alcohol to the point he was too pissed to stand and would be safely escorted or carried back to his villa whenever he inevitably passed out. Enough to drink away all thoughts of Jason and his absent father and that stupid future stepfather he'd never seen or met.

"Buenos noche, Señor...?"

"Styles," He answered, knowing only a miniscule amount of Spanish.

"Que te queres?" The bartender asked, smiling as he braced the bar with both hands. His name tag read 'Jorge' and his black hair was slicked back. His shirt was hideous, but Harry suspected it was probably a uniform, as every other employee at the bar seemed to be wearing the same brand of beach casual rubbish.

"Oh. Erm, I... Well..."

"It's alright," Jorge chuckled, suddenly speaking perfect English. "What brings you to Acapulco?"

"Bad breakup."

"Ay, that's never good," he shrugged. "Anything I can get you to..." he seemed to be searching for the proper expression, "dull the ache?"

"What do you recommend? If I were home, I'd just have a Cosmo."

"Cosmo... so you're looking for something fruity, but different?" He asked, but Harry could barely hear him, simply nodding in agreement.

He'd barely begun scanning the crowd, still full of mainly swishy queens and the few clearly uncomfortable straight couples who hadn't read the resort description correctly. He bit the laughter away on his tongue, but nearly bit it off as his view settled on a single man who - like him - stuck out like a sore thumb.

He was short, slight and dainty - everything Jason wasn't. He'd clearly paid careful attention to his appearance, manicured and gorgeous but desperate to make it look effortless. He came across as a man who wanted to seem far more aloof than he truly was, scanning the bar with a relaxed yet amused expression. A gorgeous, pleasant arrogance. His shirt was dark gray, topped with a navy beanie, both accenting deliciously tanned skin. Harry was speechless for a moment.