(Temp. Form. Fae verse.)
Their meeting was to be of the friendly sort, no romance, no expectations, none of that extra emotional baggage that came with a regular date. Just two guys having drinks and shooting the bull. What could possibly go wrong?
Ceres had already arrived at the bar, dressed in jeans and a dark red button down with the top two buttons undone. He had slid into a booth to reserve it for himself and the man he was supposed to be meeting. What was his name again? Worth? Yeah that sounded right.
The dim lights buzzed softly overhead, barely audible over the rock music that blared and the many conversations of the occupants. It had been a while since he had last been to a bar with the intent of spending the evening with a specific person. Usually he went to pick up whoever he could find that was willing to get some strange. Hopefully his "date" wouldn't object to the fact that the bar was a gay bar. He couldn't stand regular bars, too many judging eyes for his taste in liqueur and in partners.
Just where was that guy anyway? Wasn't their date planned to start a half hour ago?
(Ceres-1)