One (h.s.)

september 2017

The club lights were flashing at such speed that her eyes could barely keep open. The brightness of the ever colour-changing flashes disturbed her vision (and most definitely her eye sight). She made a mental note to buy some eye drops tomorrow as soon as she woke up, if she was even able to remember it or wake up and actually walk out of their flat was unknown.

Harry turned away from the bar to look at the dance floor with her. Both leaning on the wooden bar top, they stared at the cringing movements some drunk people did to attract the opposite sex.

"Hey," he nudged Charlotte, whispering into her ear, but she could have heard his voice over anything, "Your drink," he said, motioning with his head to the Mojito in his hand.

She gladly took it, even though she has had more than enough. But he has had as much as her and it was their last free night before his parents were going to come down for a visit for a whole month. And if a night out meant giving it her all and getting drunk as hell, she would do it.

She took a sip and let the cocktail slide down her throat, a refreshing change from the three shots of tequila she had with Harry. She swore she could still taste the horrible pee-coloured alcohol in her throat and it was definitely not her best choice.

"What time are your parents coming on Sunday?" she shouted over the loud music into his ear.

Harry cringed at her high pitched voice, placing a finger on his tragus. She always developed an annoying screeching voice when she had too much to drink. He just sat down on a stool and placed another in front of him, between his legs. Removing his finger from his ear, he took her forearm and pulled her towards him so that she sat in front. She leaned her back on his chest as best as she could, but when she noticed she couldn't without her drink spilling, she downed it all in one and placed the empty glass on the bar and leaned into him.

He began giving slight squeezes on her waist, while she let out little sighs that he couldn't hear. Removing one hand, Harry downed the rest of his beer and replaced his hand on her waist. When he hit a tickle spot, she squirmed in front of him and nearly fell of the stool. That had them both laughing for a little while.

The drunkenness was hitting a high level, and their visions were slightly blurred and voices were slow and words were slurred between them.

Somehow, it ended with Harry's hand on her exposed thigh and moving up and under her flowy flowery skirt. She turned her head to look at him from his chest as he leaned down to connect their lips.

Movements were slow, tongues slipping in and out and around, but with their lips dry and rough from the alcohol. Harry pulled away while his hand traced the bottom of her knickers.

"I'm drunk in love," he voiced out slowly.

Charlotte burst out laughing, pushing herself of from his chest and turning in the stool. Legs between his and hands on his thighs while she bent over laughing.

From another point of view, it could be seen as something very wrong (for example, her giving him head in a public space), if it wasn't for Harry's confused face. If his face was one of pleasure, it would be another story.

"Why are you laughing?" he shouted while pouting his lips outward, arms trying to hold her up so she didn't fall from the stool.

"You- You- just quoted Beyoncé lyrics!" she said between breaths.

"Hey! It's true! I am drunk in-"

She pressed her lips against his, giggles still escaping in between.

"God, I love you," she said into his mouth, sitting up from her stool and leaning against him on her feet.

He hugged her close while looking down at her with a smirk, "Well, I was hoping so. You are after all my wife."

"I certainly am."

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked into her ear.

"So early?" she said with furrowed eyebrows.

"Maybe we can do the hokey pokey. Our house won't be free of parents for long," he winked.

"We can certainly do the hokey pokey twice. Or maybe three times. However much I can take!" she shouted at him with drunkenness, hands flying down to touch him over his jeans.

"Oooh, Charlotte," he winced (with pleasure if that's possible) removing her hands from where he needed her the most. "Not here, let's go back home first."

"But it's too far!" she whined. Charlotte stood on her toes to whisper into Harry's ear, "We can go for the toilet, and then when we go back home, we can do it a few more times."

When she pulled away, he looked at her with lustful eyes. "Oh we certainly can," he said before smashing his lips against hers, dropping a few notes on the counter behind him.

They pulled away right when he stood up, Charlotte's hand leading him to the handicapped bathrooms.

He pushed her against the door, swiftly locking it behind her, leaving sloppy kisses along her jaw and neck, her mouth parted open in a silent moan.

"God, I love you," he mumbled against her neck.

"Well, I was hoping so. You are after all my husband," she repeated his words between heavy breaths while grabbing onto his lengthy hair.

Harry laughed into her neck and leaned his head on her shoulder, unable to control his continuous laughter because of the level of intoxication.

Charlotte could only laugh along with him, laughter being contagious after a whole lot of alcohol, pushing him towards the closed toilet seat to straddle him and laugh into his shoulder too.

•••

they do have sex after that it's just that i wanted it to end funny but i dont even think that was even funny oopsie

they have sex let's say five time when they get home

harry was a bit needy wink wink wink i hope he goes down on me one day wink wink bye