Tilting his head at the other, Gus wasn’t sure what angle he was playing. It was still the beginning of July, but the weather was just beginning to edge against his favorite time of year: hot, drenched in sweat, and tan. But he supposed Foxwood knew him well enough that he hated being cold, and perhaps their home was enchanted with a spell that made it frigid. Deciding that was the angle, Gus offered him a wide smile as he nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.” He replied softly. There was a certainty that the elder Foxwood would know he was in the house, and he wondered if he could get away with sleeping on the floor with the blanket so as to not mess up the bed. If anything it would be more comfortable to sit on than just the carpet before he made the decision of where he was actually going to sleep in the room. (He'd argued for a couch because he didn't want the staff to have to do extra work while his family was away before of him but he had quickly lost that battle.) As for the drinking… “No, I think it’ll be good. It’s been a harrowing summer,” Basil blushed and Gus awkwardly shifted his feet. He’d been there for a few of the instances, and wasn’t ready to announce the other things to him just yet. Yet, as he eyed the decanter and the glasses, would he be able to properly throw a spell if he was tipsy? He wasn’t sure what Mr. Foxwood would do when he found him living in his home - invited, but not approved by him - but he had some ideas. He’d probably drag Gus to Irvingly and offer him as bait to capture the acromantula.
The decanter poured out two glasses on its own, and the redhead accepted the glass in his hand as he eyed the man who stepped closer to him. His own gaze softened as he offered him a shy smile. “Me too.” He murmured, and he took a step toward him without thinking, his fingers grazing against the other man’s; Gus pulled a moment later as the other addressed something in the room.
It was a tiny box carved with swirls and foreign markings he had yet to discern the meaning of, that nestled perfectly into the palm of his hand. A couple spots on it stuck out further, as if a drawer had been pulled open and refused to be pushed back in. Hearing the slight panic in his voice, Gus let out a slight strangled laugh as he eyed the box on the floor. It was hard to explain what the box meant to him - not that he was attached to it. It was the first item he couldn't break a spell on. “My summer project.” He murmured, making no movement toward grabbing it. He turned his attention back toward Foxwood, wondering how much he should say - he knew the other wasn’t fond of hearing about his time away and he didn’t want to ruin the fragility between them by speaking too much.. “My da was helping me try to break some curses on it because I’m determined to see what’s inside, but I figured it’d keep me occupied… here. So I took it before I left. It’s not dangerous, and I don’t have to keep it here if you’re not comfortable with it. I can take it home you know, or wherever I go next-”
Gus took a deep breath before mumbling an apology. He took a sidestep toward him and gently knocked their shoulders together.
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