Sun, Sand and Sambuca (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter One

"What?" Harry yelled at the girl over the bar, trying to be heard over the music. Bodies were jostling all around him as he leant against the sticky counter, straining his ears as the girl grinned.

"I said!" she shouted, unfazed by the thumping bass line. "Cash or card!"

Harry looked back at his gaggle of mates, squinting in the spinning, flashing lights as they threw themselves about the dance floor. The air-con wasn't great in the underground bar they'd found themselves after the last placed kicked them out after midnight, and the guys were basically a slippery, sweating throng of limbs and pumping fists.

He looked back at the sea of drinks he'd ordered up before him, and tried not to groan. He'd get charged for using his card abroad, but he doubted he had enough cash to cover the amount of alcohol he was about to unleash on Seamus' stag do.

Reluctantly, he pulled his card from his wallet, and the bartender yanked the reader out from the wall to rob him of his money. He debated necking one of the shots he'd lined up on the tray to numb the pain, but cracked open a plastic bottle of water instead. As the responsible one in the party, he realised he needed a break to rehydrate if they had any hope of reaching it back to their hotel alive.

The girl bopped to the music as she waited for the machine to connect. She was petite with a multitude of piercings and tattoos, clad in ripped denim shorts and a t-shirt that read "Nobody knows I'm a lesbian", which Harry thought was quite funny considering the kind of bar she worked in. Her blonde hair was streaked with lime highlights and tied up in two messy buns either side of her head.

She caught his eye and winked, not bothered that the card machine was taking an age to connect, taking other peoples' orders that she barked in Spanish to the two cute local boys working beside her. Harry watched as they showed off with the cocktail shakers, throwing them up and catching them behind their backs before pouring the brightly coloured liquids into various shaped glasses adorned with fruit and little umbrellas.

Harry glanced over his shoulder again, keeping an eye on Seamus and the others singing their hearts out to some nineties club classic that he'd never learnt the name of. When he turned back, the bargirl was holding his card up in his face, along with a receipt with far too many numbers on.

He grinned apologetically at her as he took it back, not bothering to try and talk, just tucking the card back in his pocket, and preparing to cart his drinks off to the half a dozen men drunkenly flinging themselves about with whistles round their necks. He wasn't quite sure why Seamus had been so keen on recapturing their teenage years with his main stag night out, but seeing as he was the groom-to-be Harry had been obliged to listen to his wishes. Even if those wishes consisted of their fourth round of sambuca shots.

He was going to pretend he'd already done his at the bar – he'd even nabbed an empty glass off the cute lesbian to prove it.

He hefted up the tray, giving the people behind him enough time to shift out of his way, and started to edge back towards his group. He was concentrating on his own motions so hard, he didn't react quick enough when the hot blond guy spun around and crashed straight into him, upsetting almost half the glasses on the tray and toppling a couple of drinks over completely. All over Harry.

"Fuck!" howled the blond in dismay, genuinely mortified when he realised what he'd done, shooting his hands out to grab some of the other drinks threatening to go. "Oh mate I'm so sorry!"

Harry had frozen in shock from the cold and sticky surprise now seeping through his shirt and jeans, but when he looked up to assure the guy it was just an accident and not to worry, he froze all over again. He had the most beautiful eyes Harry had ever seen. A dazzling silvery grey, under golden lashes and above sharp, high cheekbones. Harry felt his stomach drop.

"It's-" he stuttered stupidly. "It's okay, really."

Finally, his best mate Ron shoved his way through the crowd to his rescue, and looked down at the spilled drinks with a grimace. "What happened?" he called over the music.

"It's my fault!" bemoaned the blond stranger, taking the tray out of Harry's hands and passing it to Ron. "You take the survivors, I'll re-buy the collateral damage for your boyfriend."

Ron blinked under the swirls of pink and yellow disco lights. "Err..." he said.

Harry grinned at him and nodded back to the group. "You hand them out, I'll be back in a minute," he said, giving the redhead an escape which he gratefully took. Harry then chuckled at the stranger as they started to push back towards the bar. "Not my boyfriend," he shouted in his ear.

"What?" the blond shouted back.

"The ginger, he's not my boyfriend," Harry repeated louder and closer. "He's our token straight, God love him!"

The blond grinned, flashing a perfect set of teeth. He was a little taller than Harry, and from the way his damp t-shirt clung to his chest, he was in very good shape. "He's brave," he told Harry.

"Stag do," Harry explained, pointing back to the others. "He didn't have much of a choice. He's the other husband's best man, so we'll have to do it all again next week." Harry was secretly hoping Dean's Brighton weekend would be slightly more subdued than Seamus' Tenerife extravaganza had been so far, but that's what you got dealing with a loud, Irish queen he supposed.

"You the best man for this one then?" the blond asked, and Harry nodded. They were still at least a row or two away from getting back to the bar, but he wasn't exactly protesting at being pressed up against his new friend. The guy jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Me too," he cried. "See that lanky bastard who thinks he's Beyoncé?" Harry peered through the crowd and spotted a tall black guy who was indeed lip-syncing every word to 'Bootylicious' like he was Bey herself. Harry laughed and the blond laughed with him.

"It's fun being the responsible one," Harry said sagely, although claiming to be the soberest one of his mates wasn't exactly the same as being responsible. He brushed up 'accidently' again against the blond as the press of people shifted.

"I am really sorry about knocking your drinks over," said the guy apologetically, and pulled a very cute pout of remorse that Harry had to fight to kiss right off his face. "I'll buy you a whole round, if you can remember the order?"

Harry shook his head as they finally got close enough to squeeze back up to the counter. "Honestly it's fine, don't worry," but the guy wouldn't take no for an answer.