Two Men in a Bar

First Meeting

It was a cloudy afternoon, and it was quite humid.  The day was like any other day. Work, find something to do, blend in, pretend, socialize, drink. Like a random intrusive thought that popped up in the back of your head, there was no particular order for the Sniper. On the plus side, once work is over, he has free range to do whatever he wants. The Sniper got used to it, but his routine can be pretty daunting and troublesome. It's a love-hate type of thing, and even he wouldn't know how to explain it. Even so, what better way to enjoy the evening than by going to your favorite air-conditioned sanctuary?

The bell to the entrance rings as a Sniper and Photographer walk into a bar. After a few minutes of loitering like he usually does, the Sniper took a seat and lit up his favorite cigarette.

Not a moment later, a smaller framed man sidled up next to him, flagging the bartender down. Once the bartender made his way over, the Photographer leaned over and started on his order. "Bourbon on the rocks, please." The Photographer gave the bartender a friendly smile.

Giving the man a quick side-eye, the Sniper was caught off guard. He was definitely expecting him to say a martini or manhattan. Even the bartender was a bit surprised, explaining to the man that it might be too much for him. The Photographer said otherwise and restated his order.

Taking the hint, the bartender apologized, wrote down his order, and moved onto the next person; the Sniper. "Old fashioned, neat." The Sniper replied before the man even asked what he wanted. In which the bartender nods and walks away.

The Sniper didn't pay the Photographer any mind afterward but couldn't ignore what his eyes flitted over. He glanced back at the Photographer's exposed arm. A well-detailed rose and handgun was engraved on his porcelain skin. The Photographer's tattoo was more than enough to retain his attention.

The Photographer was dressed to the nines. His fancy suit was one of the noticeable things that made him stand out, and his gloves reminded the Sniper of what they tend to wear on a daily basis. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe it wasn't. All the Sniper knew was that he had this sort of mysterious aura looming around him.

This was unprofessional on the Sniper's part, as today, he was supposed to stay focused and monitor his surroundings. The last thing the Sniper wanted to do was gain unwanted attention. Unfortunately, it was all in vain, considering that the Sniper gaze didn't go unnoticed.

Slight second lead pov:

Taking in the Sniper's appearance, the Photographer maintained eye contact, swirling his drink in hand. The man seemed to be slightly bigger than him, and much to his dismay, his face was certainly easy on the eyes. Was the man checking him out? He wouldn't blame him; I mean, have you seen who the body belongs too?? The Photographer realized his arm workout finally paid off. Humoring him, he tilts his head with a devilish grin. "Like something?" He quips.

The Sniper didn't pick up on his tone but agreed. The Photographer was oblivious to the fact that his tattoo was visible and instead appreciated the man's curiosity with his physique.

Well, this was new and quite refreshing in some way. The Sniper was usually the first to initiate any small talks—mission-wise, at least. This had the Sniper intrigued, was the man also involved in the same occupation as him? The Sniper had to ask, and that's what he did. He straightened his posture and thought of a remark to say back. He made sure he was subtle enough to not be obvious but also mix some words around to play it safe. "You seem like a man who knows his craft. Are you into shooting by any chance?" The Sniper questioned.