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Achilles Apollo walked into the bar without hesitation and took the hood of his coat off. Immediately, his shoulders relaxed, even before finding Finnegan waiting for him on a table in the corner.
The bar he had invited Finnegan to was a small hole on the wall, but classy enough for Apollo. Most importantly, it was a place little known among the general public, and well known for its discretion among people like him. Like them. The background music of smooth jazz and rain accompanied him through the sparsely populated tables.
“You were right,” Finnegan said as a greeting with a faint smile, “there is something about this place that is… not like home, but different.”
“Did you take precautions coming here?” Not that he expected agents to be on the trail of Finnegan, but one could never be too safe. Not in this city.
“Of course,” Finnegan took a quick look behind him as if he were expecting an agent lurking behind him. He dragged his chair closer to Apollo and whispered, “did you see… something on the way?”
“Nah, you can relax. That’s what we’re here for.”
When Apollo squeezed his shoulder, Finnegan tensed and shrunk in his seat for a second, only to relax against his touch. The man had already been a nervous sort when Apollo had first met him, but seeing the ways Blough City was getting to him… it hurt in a way he hadn’t expected. Apollo had helped him out of humanity, some might even call it kindness, but he wasn’t supposed to care.
He took the hand away and not a second later a waiter came to take their order. The other few patrons at the bar weren’t looking at them, but there was a feeling in the air of being aware of each other – no scrutiny, only the general sense of solidarity that all were people who lived in a city that was trying to squeeze them like bugs.
The two men waited in silence and, once their drinks had arrived, drank them quietly for a little longer. Only when he was sure no one was paying any attention to them, he leaned into Finnegan's personal space.
“There might be a way out soon.”
Finnegan tripped on his words, wanting to say everything and nothing coming out. Apollo put a hand over his, calming him down before he called too much attention to them. After all, no place in Blough was completely safe, not even this little bar. Finnegan blushed very visibly, but at least he stopped squirming.
Apollo took his hand away, feeling a bit warmer himself. He explained in short, spaced sentences what he had learnt about and Finnegan listened, grasping his knees until his knuckles went white. A movement caught their eye; two men that had been slow dancing returned to their table, too close to them for comfort.
Without giving it a second thought, Apollo reached for Finnegan’s hand and cocked his head towards the corner that had become an improvised dance floor. Finnegan gulped, but nodded and let himself be led.
They caught the end of one song and then another one started, as melancholy as the last one. They held each other close, swaying their bodies while the music played. Their dance was agnostic to the rhythm, but it didn’t matter. Apollo treasured the way Finnegan’s lithe body fit against him, how his arms held to his torso as if it was a lifeline.
Several minutes passed until Apollo brought himself to lean into Finnegan’s ear and continued talking in whispers. He didn’t comment or react when Finnegan shivered against him, but he took note of it on a part of his brain that was exclusively dedicated to the way Finnegan reacted to him.
After all was said, Finnegan smiled and leaned further into Apollo’s arms. Apollo smiled and held the other man tighter. The music had changed, but they kept on just swaying together to a ballad that only existed in their hearts. They knew that the other people in the bar understood, and could feel them deliberately giving them space. In a city like this, the opportunities for true intimacy were few and far between. And Finnegan’s heart was lighter than it ever had since Apollo found him alone in the rain. Apollo wanted to keep him that way for as long as he could.
Eventually, they had to stop and go back to their seats. They had to finish their drinks and prepare to leave before the bar closed. Bars in Blough City never opened as late as one’s soul needed.
Apollo had words at the tip of his tongue but didn’t know how to say them. They were too personal, too deep even for a bar like this. Soon everything would be different, he hoped. If things went their way just this once, they would soon be in a place that did not take bites of its people’s souls for breakfast. And, maybe, then…
“Come to my house?” Finnegan asked out of the blue. “One last drink. Not that I have anything fancy, or good if I’m honest, but…”
“It’s risky,” Apollo replied without much heat. His heart was pumping, his brain calculating all the risks, but, at the same time, all the ways they could minimize them.
“I know,” Finnegan nodded and smiled. “Come anyway?”
Apollo told himself he hesitated, for Finnegan’s sake if nothing else, but he also knew that was a lie. When he had first met him, when he then found him alone and stranded, he had racked his brain trying to find an answer for why he had cared about what happened to this pathetic man. The more time they had spent together, the more answers he had found, each better than the last. Finnegan was, in the end, a good man, and that was something you didn’t come by every day.
He only had one answer to Finn’s invitation.
"Only if I can cook you breakfast tomorrow."