Fratboy Harry and Other Stories

Drunk Me Is Like Regular Me

You sat on the sofa next to Harry as you scrolled through your Netflix queue. Neither of you were particularly in the mood for a movie, but there wasn't much else to do. After deciding against watching your favorite drama for the millionth time and vetoing Harry's suggestion of a Monty Python movie marathon, you tossed him the remote.

"You decide," you said as you headed for the kitchen. "But no Python. I think I've heard enough about how awfully nice it is to have a penis."

You heard Harry snicker in the other room before calling out to you. "What are you doing?"

"Making a drink," you replied. "I feel like getting drunk."

"You feel like getting drunk, but no penis jokes?" he quipped.

"I'm warning you, Styles."

"Heyyy."

You returned to the living room, a glass in each hand and a smirk on your face to let him know you were teasing him. When you handed him his glass, he took it with slight hesitation, his eyebrows furrowed.

"What is this?" he inquired.

"A Sloe Comfortable Screw."

"Seriously?" he scoffed.

"That's what it's called!" you exclaimed with a giggle, sitting next to him. "It's Sloe Gin, Southern Comfort and orange juice."

Harry inspected the contents of his glass before side eyeing you.

"It's good," you insisted after taking your own sip. "Try it."

"Alright then."

He brought the glass to his lips, taking a cautious sip followed by a generous one.

"Not bad," he admitted.

With a satisfied grin, you sat back, resting your elbow on the back of the couch.

"You know, I've yet to see you drunk."

"You've seen me drunk before," he said.

You shook your head, "No, I haven't. I've seen you a little tipsy at best. But never drunk."

Harry chuckled, his dimple dipping into his cheek.

"Tell me," you said, sitting up, "what is drunk Harry Styles like?"

He quirked a brow before taking another sip of his cocktail. He took his time swallowing, slowly lowering his glass to grin at you.

"Drunk me is like regular me, except with more grammar errors and a deeper meaning to everything."

You threw your head back laughing. "I can't wait to see that."

Harry lifted his glass. "Make me another one of these and you just might."

"Is that a promise?" you beamed with glee.

"We'll see," he rolled his eyes. "So what are we watching?"

"You were supposed to decide."

"We don't have to watch a movie," he shrugged.

"Okay...what do you wanna do then?"

Before he could respond, you stood up fast, nearly spilling your drink. "Oh!"

"Careful, love, that screw was meant to be slow, not fast."

"Let's play a game!" you exclaimed.

Harry shook his head, muttering under his breath. "She didn't get my joke."

"Shut up, yes I did," you said quickly.

"Then why didn't you laugh?"

"Because it was lame."

Harry threw his hand up in exasperation.

"Let's play a game, Harry," you repeated.

Harry mocked you, sitting on the edge of the sofa, his eyes wide. "Okay! What game?"

"A drinking game," you answered.

Taking the final gulp from his glass, he handed it to you.

"Fine. But I'll need another screw."

Rolling your eyes, you returned to the kitchen to make more cocktails. When you came back, a deck of cards in your hand, Harry eagerly accepted his second drink, a happy little glow about him.

"Hang on, tiger," you chuckled when he was about to take a sip. "Let's start the game."

You sat on the floor next to the coffee table and began to shuffle the cards.

"What's the rules?" Harry asked, sitting down next to you.

"Nothing major," you shrugged. "Just guess if the next card is higher or lower."

"That's not very fun."

"You have a better suggestion?" you raised your eyebrows. "I know you don't want me to make you play Never Have I Ever."

Harry eyed you again before nodding. "Fine."

You played back and forth for a while, each of you having to take several drinks. When Harry's glass emptied again and yours was getting close, you rose from your spot to make another round of cocktails.

"Wow," you widened your eyes when you stood, your head spinning. "I think it's kicking in."

"Not to me," Harry shrugged. "I feel good."

You chuckled at his obvious grammatical error, not sure if he had said it on purpose or not. But you knew he was probably feeling the effects of the alcohol.

When you returned with the third drink for each of you, you nearly fell on your butt until Harry caught you.

"Easy, baby," he murmured. "Maybe we should stop it with the drinking games."

"No," you pouted. "I still wanna see you drunk."

Harry smiled at you as he leaned over to whisper in your ear. "I think I am."

"So if we're not gonna play a game anymore, what are we gonna do?" you asked him.

"Why do we have to do something? Sometimes just being with someone is nice. You can talk. Or not. Whatever. But you don't always have to be doing something."

He leaned back then, resting against the sofa. His eyelids were heavy as he brought the glass to his lips. Catching you watching him, he grinned, lifting his glass higher as though to toast to you.

You shook your head as you giggled, aware that Harry was now past the tipsiness you'd seen him in before.

"I like this," Harry declared, lowering his glass to look inside it.

"The drink?" you inquired.

He shook his head. "No, this. The silence."

"Gee, thanks," you scoffed.

"No, I don't mean - don't take it that way. That's - no."

You raised your brows in question, having no idea what he was mumbling about. Harry then placed his glass on the coffee table, scooting his body closer to yours.

"It's like...this," he whispered, his eyes practically burning into yours as you stared at him.

"Like what?"

"Like...this..." Harry gestured between you. "Me and you, you and me. Just...being here...together."

"Oh - kay," you nodded slowly, still lost on what he was trying to say.

"Don't you think it means more when you can just enjoy...being?"

"Mmm...yeah, Harry, you're drunk."

"And you have beautiful eyes," he stated before surprising you with a kiss.