[ A "terrific" number of identities? The plunder...? Wise is terribly curious, but he decides, with an intellectual cautiousness likely befitting his name, that he doesn't want to know. Asking questions is the first step to getting involved in something you shouldn't be involved in — he knows that full well from his line of work as a Proxy. He resolves not to ask too many questions. Questions get people in trouble, that's how the game always goes.
His own thoughts are quite far away from what might happen when a pretty young man invites a beautiful older man into his room in the dead of night. Not that it's never occurred to him — not that his thoughts haven't lingered before, indulgently, on Hugo's handsome face or the elegance of his long limbs and fingers — but Wise wouldn't be himself if he let himself be overly moved by personal desire, and he really hasn't entertained it in years. Not since their time at Helios Academy ended so bitterly, in such spectacular fashion —
Wise keeps his mind on what he's doing with his own hands. It's well and good that Hugo asked for tea; if he wanted coffee, Wise would have had to duck out to the kitchen to make it, but he has a small kettle ensconced away in one of his storage boxes for late-night cups of warmth at his computer, so he's quiet for a moment, setting things up as Hugo gets settled on his couch and begins unwrapping his chocolate. Inwardly, Wise hopes Hugo isn't especially picky about his tea; the cheap packets of plain black tea that he keeps on hand for himself aren't nearly good enough for the likes of Victoria Housekeeping. But beggars can't be choosers, and —
...Wise's train of thought comes crashing to a halt when Hugo pulls out the thumb drive with a flourish. ]
What's that?
[ ...So much for not asking. It can't be helped. He never could resist a mystery. ]
no subject
His own thoughts are quite far away from what might happen when a pretty young man invites a beautiful older man into his room in the dead of night. Not that it's never occurred to him — not that his thoughts haven't lingered before, indulgently, on Hugo's handsome face or the elegance of his long limbs and fingers — but Wise wouldn't be himself if he let himself be overly moved by personal desire, and he really hasn't entertained it in years. Not since their time at Helios Academy ended so bitterly, in such spectacular fashion —
Wise keeps his mind on what he's doing with his own hands. It's well and good that Hugo asked for tea; if he wanted coffee, Wise would have had to duck out to the kitchen to make it, but he has a small kettle ensconced away in one of his storage boxes for late-night cups of warmth at his computer, so he's quiet for a moment, setting things up as Hugo gets settled on his couch and begins unwrapping his chocolate. Inwardly, Wise hopes Hugo isn't especially picky about his tea; the cheap packets of plain black tea that he keeps on hand for himself aren't nearly good enough for the likes of Victoria Housekeeping. But beggars can't be choosers, and —
...Wise's train of thought comes crashing to a halt when Hugo pulls out the thumb drive with a flourish. ]
What's that?
[ ...So much for not asking. It can't be helped. He never could resist a mystery. ]