"Me? Pissed? Sadly, Sevvy, you're mistaken. I simply like to have fun." Sirius' lips pulled in a tight, huge smile as he roped his arm over Severus' shoulders. Sirius didn't care about being poised or what society wanted him to be. The only reason someone would go out to a bar - well, someone other than Severus - was to have fun. Drink. Be merry. Isn't that one of the ten commandments or something?
Reaching for his next drink, Sirius took his eyes away from Severus and downed it, settling back onto his stool. "I'm appealing," he started, turning to look back. "Just because you don't find me appealing, doesn't mean normal people don't." He stuck out his tongue, hoping Severus would realize his obnoxiously adorable joke.
He leaned in and crinkled his nose. "Not as well as me - na, na, na, na, na." Dark Arts was fun. So was potions. Sirius liked that he was DADA, though, considering the world was more entertaining that way. Suddenly he became more aware of the dangerous and slightly cruel route he was going down and paused - no, he wasn't a kid anymore. Torturing Severus wasn't his desire anymore. They'd fought side by side. They might not be friends, but they were comrades. And that was what mattered.
"Oh buck up, you've still got a few hours before either of us pass out, piss drunk." He grinned. "Besides," he paused to down another drink; "I'm still drinking. Soon enough anyone could drag me home and drain me of my life force if they wanted."
So wait. Midweek. Sirius was bored. Hence, drunken Sirius.