Sidemen Shots

Run-down Bar ~ Wroetobehz

Based very heavily on Let's Go Home Together by Ella Henderson and Tom Grennan.

It had all started with a fight.

Now, normally, Harry would leave at even the slightest hint of conflict. This time however, the rugged idiot at some run-down bar was able to push him over the edge. Far too easily, in Harry's humble opinion.

He'd been out drinking with Lux and Freezy, and on the way out, Lux tripped on his shoelace, accidentally pushing Harry forward in his haste for balance. The push had sent Harry flying into some guy, having just stood up with a mate of his to head back to the bar for a round of drinks for his group.

"Oi, watch it." The man shouted, sounding every bit as pissed as he looked.

Harry giggled, evidently way too drunk at this point.

"Sorry mate."

The man rolled his eyes, muttering to both himself and his friend as he shoved past Harry in order to get to the bar.

"Bloody well better be."

As stated before, Harry was way too drunk right now.

"Prick."

Harry didn't even know why he said that. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth; he should have just left it and proceeded to leave the building.

The man turned, somehow looking angrier than he had before. He clearly wasn't having a very good day. Now that Harry thought about it, that would explain what the man was doing in this crappy bar in the first place.

"What did you say?"

Harry gulped; he didn't like conflict. So he didn't understand why he replied with:

"I called you a prick."

Behind him, he heard Freezy make a noise that sounded like a mix between a whine and a groan, burying his face in Lux's neck so he didn't have to witness one of his closest friends get their face pummeled in.

Harry himself had his eyes screwed shut, his hands balled into fists at his sides as he awaited the first hit.

He flinched when the sound of a loud, hearty laugh reached his ears.

Lux, confused, watched the man turn and elbow his friend, smiling brightly.

"I like this one." He said, pointing at Harry.

When he didn't receive a fist to the face, Harry dared open one eye.

At the man's happy expression, Harry opened his other eye and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm Ethan."

Harry blinked a couple times, slowly, before answering.

"H-harry."

"Well then, time for drinks!"

"I-" Harry watched, bemused, as the man - Ethan - continued to head for the bar, his friend shuffling alongside him silently.

Harry turned slowly, about to aim his signature look of confusion upon his friends, only to catch the two of them sneaking out of the door, giggling hysterically. They were, maybe, just a little bit, too drunk also.

"Well fuck." Harry had been about to head after them but then he decided he liked this bar too much to leave just yet.

(It definitely wasn't because his vision had started spinning and he now didn't know which direction they had even taken off in, nope.)

Glumly, Harry edged his way to the bar, slumping down onto a stool and resting his head in his hands.

Five minutes later, he decided he should have another drink. So he did.

1 turned into two, two into three, three into 1, 1 into Tuesday.

(At this point, Harry didn't think he could define coherent, let alone think a coherent thought. Nothing made sense to him at this point.)

Randomly, the alcohol had stopped tasting like alcohol. Ever since the bartender placed a glass in front of him and pointed somewhere to Harry's back right.

If Harry was a bit more sober, he'd realise the drink he'd been sipping at for the last five minutes was a tall, simple glass of cold water.

Harry felt movement to his right; someone was taking the stool next to him. He grimaced as he looked down at the bar and spotted a tattooed hand, gripping at the bar for balance.

"Tha' t'too's rank mate." He slurred, honest.

"Is it?"

"Yeah. Looks horrid. I hate it, get a new one."

A chuckle. "Will do."

"It has to be nice though."

Harry caught a nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Of course."

He turned to face the person next to him, only just noticing it was the man from before, Evan.

"I'm serious."

Evan's smile dropped, his expression turning as stern as Harry's.

"Me too."

Harry perked up instantly. "Good."

Evan grinned, letting out a single, loud laugh.

"You're so weird." As Harry's bottom lip pushed forwards in a pout, he added: "I like it."

At that, Harry made the unconscious decision not to pretend to black out. (How else was he supposed to let people know he wasn't interested?) Evan seemed like an alright guy, he wanted to get to know him a bit more.

That didn't stop his brain from making the conscious decision to insult the other man. Or at least try to.

"At least I don't have a stupid name." He pulled a face. "Like Evan." He added.

Evan's eyebrows furrowed, his lips pulling into a frown.

"You're right; Evan's a stupid name."

Harry got barely a second to celebrate his smarts before it dawned on him that Evan had just insulted his own name.

"But your name is Evan."

At the face Evan pulled, Harry began to doubt himself. "Isn't it?"

"Mate, my name's Ethan."

Harry felt his face heat up a little in embarrassment.

"Oh, sorry."

"It's fine." Ethan looked back over at his table, finding his friends all watching him intently, just as they'd promised.

He looked from his friends to Harry, then over to the bleak dance floor in the middle of the room. There was an old man twerking his heart out, a couple of younger girls slow dancing, and one of Ethan's own friends lying face up on the ground, glasses held loosely in one hand.

He sighed. "Wanna dance?"

Harry turned his head in the direction of the dance floor. He looked back at Ethan with a clear look of disbelief.

"You're mad."

And yet, he was already shuffling his way onto the dance floor.