Wolfstar at the pub.
Sirius flounces to the bar. He knows what he looks like, silver rings and too tight leather pants, cut off tee that shows off too much flat, tattooed stomach, eyeliner smudged and smoky. He orders the drink with the silly name, fruit and ice and fizz and a little umbrella and waits until his tall, scarred boyfriend orders a bitter, no nonsense pint.
they switch glasses in the booth















