"Your sacrifice?" Harry stared at him with a disbelieving expression on his face. He gestured wildly with his arms to where a duffle bag rested at the foot of the couch. "My wallet's in there. Would you like to take my money and donate it to a worthy cause for your next noble deed?"
"Now, Harry, don't be like that," Thomas said placatingly, trailing after Harry around his apartment as he turned to pace. "It's just one date. Really, I thought you'd be proud of me."
"Proud—why on earth would I be proud? You set me up on a date! A date that is going to make several people question my heterosexual credentials and with good reason."
"People already question--" Thomas began to say, then abruptly changed tack when he caught Harry's murderous expression. "I thought you'd be proud because I'm just doing what you do. You know, rescuing little old ladies, saving puppies, all that jazz."
"And you didn't stop to think that amidst all this daring-do I might want to have a relationship? With a girl?"
Thomas stared at him evenly. Harry met his gaze defiantly for a moment, then sighed and looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm working on it," he said defensively.
"It's just one date," Thomas coaxed. "You might even enjoy it."
"It's a date with a man," insisted Harry.
"Well, yes, but you people get so caught up in that sort of thing," Thomas waved his hand dismissively. "Please? For me?"
Thomas had learned not long after meeting Harry the first time that his brother was a sucker for anyone who had a problem, asked nicely, or in general refrained from attempting to kill him when they met him. The former consisted of a depressingly low number of people. Being his brother, Thomas was not above exploiting this weakness whenever it worked to his advantage.
Harry visibly wavered, finally heaving a martyred sigh as he surrendered. He pointed a finger at Thomas. "You owe me."
"Of course."
"Something big, too," Harry said.
Thomas herded him into the bedroom, hoping to tactfully suggest a few clothing choices while Harry was distracted and pliable. "Naturally. Do you still have that shirt I gave you for Christmas? And where is your mirror?"
"I don't own one."
"Well, that certainly explains some things. This is going to take some work," Thomas muttered under his breath.