Fox
House still couldn't quite believe how the previous day had gone. When he'd gone into Fox's shop for an ingredient for an experiment, he certainly hadn't expected to share a bed with him. Asking him to dinner would have seemed like a slightly more likely outcome, and somehow that had ended up happening after.
Later that evening he went back to Fox's place, dressed nicely (for him) and smelling good.
Later that evening he went back to Fox's place, dressed nicely (for him) and smelling good.
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He almost blushed, and looked down at his food. "This place seriously has the best butter chicken."
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"You have good taste," Fox smiled, warning even more to the other man the more they talked.
"Tell me more about your work," he nudged. "Is it, like, some sort of clinic, or... How does it work?"
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He took another drink of his diet coke and then said, "Yes, a clinic. My space is small, but honestly a lot of what I do is house calls. The only way people know how to find me is word of mouth, really."
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If it wasn't for the careful and practiced composure of being a spy, Fox would have blushed. Instead a tiny smile curled the corner of his lips as he pushed his hair back.
Surely that wasn't always your job though. The way you talk about medicine, it's clear you have a deep past with the practice. Were you a surgeon, maybe? Neurologist? Something big, important, hard to accomplish," he guessed.
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"I see," Fox said, a bit worried that might be the root of Greg's interest in him. Another puzzle. He hoped that wasn't true though, he was finding he quite liked spending time with the other man.
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"I can imagine that," Fox said, looking thoughtful, his head tilting as though analyzing him. "A rebel. ...Shitty childhood?" he guessed. "My money's on daddy not being very nice."
More tricks left over from a past life of having to read people and understand their motives.
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"Lucky guess," Fox shrugged.
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"I don't mean to be rude doing it, it just happens. You start seeing people, really seeing, and it's hard to make yourself look away," Fox admitted.
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"I care," Max shrugged. "It's a useful skill I don't really need anymore. It's just an excuse to pick at people. I don't need to be on guard all the time anymore."
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"I don't lie," Fox assured him. "Omit, maybe..."
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Then he smiled. "So how is this date going?"
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"Oh, are we on a date?" Fox joked. "This isn't a check up?"
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"Well, I did think it was odd you'd not even checked my pulse," Fox smiled.
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"Anything I could do to quicken it?" he asked.
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"I'm not that kind of girl, Greg. Still our first date," Fox said with a laugh, smiling as he gently tugged his arm away.
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"And what counts as 'first date stuff'?" Fox asked with a laugh.
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