A Different Kind

He couldn’t remember whether this was his fifth pint or his sixth and he had completely lost track of how many shots he had done, but he also couldn’t really concentrate on anything other than the blonde he was sitting next to. The way her thigh felt as he ran his palm further and further up her leg towards the hem of her dress. Everyone was laughing and no one was noticing his hand. She was of course, but she pretended not to. She didn’t want to seem eager. All she wanted was a quick fuck, and his name. To be able to say she’d gone to bed with Harry Styles, well, what more could a girl ask for?

They were in a pub somewhere in Hackney but Harry didn't know the name of the place. It was popular though, there were at least eighty people crowding the room plus the countless others in the beer garden outside. Workers scurried between patrons collecting empty glass ware and wiping down tables, the house band was playing ACDC and Harry hadn't been asked to sign an autograph even once. All things considered he was quite enjoying the night.

“And then she said, ‘I hope that’s not a drum stick in your pocket and you’re just happy to see me!’”

Everyone laughed. Harry didn't know whether or not the joke had been funny because he wasn't listening but he laughed anyway. He hardly knew the people around the table but he wanted to get to know one of them much better. Harry had been introduced to the blonde during the week and she had invited him out with her and her friends to ‘get to know one another’. There were seven at the table, Harry, the blonde, two couples and one single bloke who seemed to think himself a bit of a ladies’ man.

Swallowing his fear of rejection, Harry slid his hand further up the girls thigh than he had before, his pinkie finger slipped under the hem of her black dress. He squeezed gently, focusing on how soft her skin felt, how warm she was. He looked up from her leg to meet her eyes, finding her smiling suggestively at him.

“I have to go to the bathroom, will you walk me?” Her name was Jess and she currently had red lipstick smeared on her front two teeth, one of which was slightly crooked, but Harry was far too drunk, and far too excited, to notice. At first it seemed like a strange request and then Jess winked and Harry understood. Fighting his intoxication to get out from the crowded booth seat and hold onto her hand, he somehow managed to stay upright. “We’ll be back, alright.” She announced to the rest of the group.

Harry followed her quite blindly for what seemed like twenty minutes, although it had only been thirty seconds. The way her bottom bounced as she walked had him entranced and there was a dull aching in his groin. Harry bit his lip; it had been so long since he had been with a woman, months, almost three for sure. He was even starting to feel nervous; his tummy was doing flips, not usual Harry Styles tummy behavior.

“You have really nice hair.” The words were out of his mouth without any thought as she pulled him into the disabled bathroom. It was the first door along the bathrooms corridor and thankfully was unoccupied.

“That’s nice. Do you have a rubber?”

Harry shook his head as he lent in to plant messy kisses on her exposed neck and collar bone. His hands found her hips and he held her as close as she would allow while she searched her purse for a condom. Finding one, she stacked her hand bag on the top of the toilet. Jess held Harry’s face in her hands, directing his lips to hers. She could feel his penis pressing against her legs through his jeans. They were awfully tight and in the back of her mind she thought how uncomfortable he must be. Harry moaned into the kiss, then froze for a moment before pulling away.

“I don’t want to pressure you. We don’t have to do anything, I don’t even mind. We can just wait if you want.” He had a worried look in his eyes and he reached up and pushed his curls out of his face. His stomach was still doing back flips and he was suddenly over come with the fear that she might be feeling obliged to do the deed. His mother had taught him to respect women and their boundaries and fucking in the toilet of a pub didn't seem very respectful.

“Will you shut up?” Jess grabbed him by the collar of what must have been an expensive shirt. She walked gently four steps backwards and pushed him down to sit on the lid of the toilet seat. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

Harry swallowed, that was all the encouragement he needed. He looked at her body hungrily, letting his eyes linger on her breasts. He was shocked and beyond pleased when she grabbed the top of her strapless dress and pulled in down, exposing both of her boobs. Her nipples were large and dark and Harry was delighted. Jess straddled him, one knee either side of his waist. His fingers went straight for her nipples, teasing them and twisting them and tugging them until they stood hard - her breasts were more than a handful and so, so soft.

Jess busied herself with Harry's belt and zipper. Drunk as she was, she undid them both easily. They were kissing again when she pushed the top of his pants aside and was able to hold his penis in her slender hand.

“I think I really like you.” Harry drunkenly stated when she pulled away to focus on unrolling the condom. He felt like a thousand butterflies were in his belly and maybe if she liked him too, they would settle down.

“Okay.” Jess was pinching the top of the rubber, pushing it down over his head when his stomach did and another flip. Except this time it flipped so violently that the last three hours of alcohol spurted out of his mouth and landed squarely in his lap. At first they were both so shocked they didn't move. Jess’ entire front was splattered with vomit and Harry's’ jeans were soaked. Then she jumped up and started screaming.

“You fucking disgusting cunt!”

Jess grabbed her hand bag, tucked her tits away and stormed out, leaving Harry still in shock with a condom half on and his clothes covered in spew.

Jess was shaking her head and swearing under her breath and about to start crying. She couldn't go back to her table, she couldn't be seen covered in Harry Styles vomit. There was a fire exit door at the back of the pub she knew, it was against the rules but she was beyond caring. She passed three girls coming out of the ladies bathroom that stared at her and pointed. One laughed which only made her walk faster.

“Whoa, cool your jets love, what’s happened here?” Jess stopped just short of the door when the female voice spoke. Coming out of a door opposite the exit marked ‘Private’ was a curvy brunette wearing a flannelette shirt. She reached out to Jess, to rub her shoulder. “Don’t cry, you’ll be right.”

“He fucking spewed on me! I thought it was my one fucking chance and then he just chucks up everywhere!” Now Jess was in tears and couldn't get her words out properly. “I wanna go home!”

“Righto. I’ll help you to a cab.” Jess let the woman lead her out the back door.

Meanwhile Harry was on his knees in the same bathroom cubical, leaning over the toilet bowl, emptying the remaining contents of his stomach. His knees were sticky and wet and his pants were still unzipped. After one last heave, Harry sat back and lent against the cubical wall. He felt humiliated. He had gone out with the intention of making new friends and chatting up the blonde but he had embarrassed himself again. When would he stop playing the fool and actually make a good impression?

The toilet door was still open but Harry didn't notice the brunette walk in until she was standing over the top of him, reaching down to pull him to his feet.

“ You've made a right good mess of yourself buddy. Can’t let anyone get pictures of this.” Her voice was soft and kind and it made Harry smile even though he had started crying. With her hands firmly under his arms the woman tugged his to his feet. “C'mon love, Let’s get you into a shower.”

“I’m so stupid!” He moaned. “No one ever likes me! I always mess everything up! Now they’ll take pictures of e and laugh and I’ll be a joke and everyone will say nasty things on Twitter.”

She put one of his arms over her shoulder, careful to keep her hair out of the way, and lead Harry down the hall and towards the back door where she’d met Jess a few minutes earlier. No one passed them in the hall way but the curly haired lad was not up to caring. He just wanted to sit down and cry and wallow in his drunken sadness. When they reached the ‘Private’ door, Harry watched the woman pull a set of keys out of her jean pocket and unlock the door. To his dismay, behind the door was a flight of stairs.

“I won’t let them get any photos. C'mon, you can shower upstairs.” She smiled, “Careful on the stairs, if you fall down I’m leaving you here.”

Somehow Harry found the sobriety to make it up the stairs. Once they reached the top of the flight however it was lost and he began stumbling and falling. Before no time, Harry found himself being sat down on another toilet seat. But this wasn't a public toilet. There were pink bath mats on the white tiled floor and a bunch of flowers in a vase by the sink and perfume bottle and make up on the counter along with all manner of feminine bathroom products. What confused him even more was a sudden tugging on his left foot and when he looked down, the brown haired woman who had helped him up the stairs was now crouched in front of him taking off his shoes.

“Please don’t steal my shoes! These ones are my favorites.” His voice came out in an exasperated plea.

“I’m not stealing them. You need to shower and you can’t shower with shoes on.”

Her eyes were blue. That’s really all he could comprehend about her face; two ocean blue eyes surrounded by a sea of wavy brown hair.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked.

“Dana. Alright, stand up and clothes off. Hurry up, I won’t look.”

Harry did as he was told, and handed his shirt to Dana who threw it into the sink straight away. His pants were sticky and he almost fell over trying to get them off. Harry sat back on the toilet lid and flung his legs out dramatically in front of him.

“Help?” Dana bent to start pulling of his soiled jeans. “Is this your bathroom Dana? Why do you live in a pub?”

She laughed a pretty laugh, tugging Harry's second leg out of his pants. “Yes it is and I own this pub. It’s always been in my family. Your undies are gross too.” It was more of an afterthought than an instruction but Harry was happy to relieve himself of the underwear as well. “Oh. Oh okay. Cool. Well, in the shower.”

She didn't know where to look and had beetroot red cheeks. Harry sat in the tub, leaning back and settling himself. Averting her eyes, she turned the water on, at first Harry yelped when the cold water hit his skin but he was still too intoxicated to do anything about it. The shower only lasted three minutes but that was more than enough time for Dana to rake her eyes over every exposed inch of Harry Styles; from his messy dark hair to the dark hair between his legs. She loved all of his tattoos except for the butterfly that she thought just looked silly. The way the water ran over his arms and his chest and his penis, she couldn't help but wonder what he was like in bed. Suddenly Harry laughed, Dana didn't realize she had become so focused on his body but it was an effort now to look away.

“I don’t even know you. You could be some crazy lady or you could be paparazzi or anything. This is so fucking dumb, I must be crazy.”

“You’re too drunk to care.” She smiled, turning her back to him to shut off the water. “And I already told you, I run the pub; I can’t do that and be paparazzi. Ain't nobody got time for that.” Dana laughed at her own joke as she went to fetch harry a towel. “I totally should have thought of that though, I’d sell your nudes for thousands.” When she turned back around to offer Harry a towel he was unconscious. He looked so beautiful and peaceful she didn't dare to wake him. That, and there was a certain novelty in having a famous person drunk and unconscious in ones bath tub. She decided to leave him be. After covering his body with two towels for some warmth, Dana collected the vomit covered clothes and left the room.