#haydstew

When Noah climbed on the bus to head down and get his groceries, he had no idea what exactly awaited him down the long walkway. With his reusable tote bags slung over his shoulder, the corporate hawking advertising on each one painted over with dramatic rainbows that were clearly done by an amateur, he moved past full seats, all the way to the only available one by some guy who’d already grabbed the window.

Noah settled in with a sigh, tucking the bags down at his feet, then, as he sat up, glanced toward his seatmate - and scoffed in amusement.

“Mr. Big Shot,” he drawled, lips quirking. “Fancy seeing you here. Ever manage to get off the phone with your lawyer and have a decent time? Or did you just keep your phone shoved up your ass the entire night?”

IRISH YOU WERE BEER…

✉️OUTGOING MESSAGE ↪️ that random guy at the bar

IRISH YOU WERE BEER…

Arthur glanced over at the man, who had his eyes half-closed, squinting at the bartender in front of them. He chuckled — while he’d been smart enough to pace himself, it seemed as if Hayden had not. “You sure about that, buddy?” He asked, bringing his glass up to his lips. “I swear to fucking god, if you puke in here though, I don’t know you.”