"I don't know what there is to not be fine with, other people's mental architecture is really not my business." 

He bristles a little instinctively, looks around the shop  — he’s glad it’s mostly empty at this time of day.

“Some people,” he says, very quietly, “would think it was their business that Gabriel Taylor is insane.”

"Other people would notice they've been thinking of you as 'both of them' for a month now," he says, just as quiet. "How many names." 

“I’m — we’re Gabriel Taylor. We always will be.”

But.

Deep breath.

“Mercury. The flashy one is Eros. And the—”

He struggles for a moment with descriptors.

“...the real one is Apollo.”

There are any number of things he could say about mythological significance; every last one of them sounds unbearably pretentious. 

"They're beautiful names," he says instead. 

He just barely smiles.

"What's the point of choosing your own name if you don't make it beautiful?"

Does he know? 

Yeah, Sasha's fairly sure he knows. 

"I — kept mine. I considered other things but it's mine. 

Are you named after the god, the metal, both?" 

He looks very briefly surprised, then nods.

"Mostly the metal. The god doesn't quite fit, even if it's more on-theme."

He nods. 

— glances around the coffee shop. "I have — kind of a lot of casual assumptions I need to reevaluate. Do we want to have this conversation in private?" 

He nods, a little tense,

and then takes a deep breath, twirls his sunglasses between his fingers, and stands.

"Do you actually want any coffee? I'll buy."

"I don't really drink coffee except when I need it for work, but if they have tea —" 

He nods and plucks a copy of the tea list off the counter. It's extensive.

He's more than half aware of what he picks but less than two thirds. 

He leans over the counter a little as he orders, gestures loosely and often, flirts lightly with the cashier but not in a way that signals any threatening interest.

Black coffee for him, tea for Sasha. He holds his while they wait, doesn't seem interested in drinking it.

Sasha keeps careful track of Eros's facial expression, keeps quiet, makes a mental list of questions he wants to ask once they aren't here anymore; he drinks his tea once it comes and doesn't ask why Eros isn't drinking the coffee, there's enough intrusive questions he has in mind and he suspects he doesn't want to know anyway. 

There’s a change as they walk out the door.

He sips his coffee as they head back, glances at Sasha every so often.

Aha. 

"Having completely different taste from one another can't be fun," he says, as quietly as he can while still making sure Mercury can hear him. 

“It’s not,” he says, making a face. “There’s overlap, but agreeing on créme brulée doesn’t help anything.”

"Fights over what movie to watch must be legendary." He's maybe halfway serious. 

"They would be, if we ever had enough time to watch a whole movie."

He opens his mouth and then closes it again. 

"I was going to suggest doing what I do but songwriting while watching a movie with a soundtrack sounds like a terrible idea actually. Do you usually switch off this fast and I just haven't noticed before?" 

"...we don't usually have a reason to."

"…I'm kind of flattered." He could be joking. He isn't. 

"It's."

"No one else has ever known."