My lovely friends showed me this gif (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, post/113570511333) and I had to write a tiny little something.
Cross-posted from AO3 on time.
Living with Dean had almost conditioned Eggsy to cover his bits at any sign of someone outside his door. Almost. It was only the lingering warmth of a minor sunburn across his skin and the faint scent of Harry's cologne in the air that kept his mind in Monaco, where he had one slick hand wrapped tight around his cock and his other was braced against the dresser of his hotel room, when a knock came at his door.
He could hear his mentor speaking from the other side of the thick wood, but being as that Eggsy was too focused on his fantasy of a larger, more calloused hand- said mentor's hand- stroking him off from behind, he couldn't be bothered to pay much more attention than it took to throw out an "A'ight!" A moment later, the brush of a thumb callous over his sensitive slit had him groaning out a "Harry," that was barely compressed in time into a whisper that wheezed from his chest.
It was only the slight shift in temperature against the bare skin of his back that alerted him to the door being opened, but by then, hands he had wet dreams about were grabbing his arse, squeezing it, pulling it apart to expose the base of the vibrator he'd been wearing all day. The tips of two pinkies pressed on the flared circle, pushing the buzz directly into his prostate, and it was instinct that had him reaching back to grip Harry's thighs, and instinct again that kept him from curling his fingers into the crisp fabric of a bespoke suit.
Teeth scraped down the side of his neck at the same time those pinkies pushed down, and his hips arched forward away from the pleasure even while he tilted his chin to expose his neck further to the new Arthur's attentions. He felt like he was going to fly away if he didn't have something to grab hold of, and his fingertips fluttered against Harry's thighs.
Lips tickled up the oversensitized skin of his neck before teeth tugged at his earlobe. It wasn't until hot breath fanned across his ear that he realised he was panting in time with the pushes of the vibrator into him.
"If you wrinkle my suit," Harry breathed, low and hot in a way that sent shivers down Eggsy's spine, "then you will not have use of your hands for the rest of the evening."
There was no choice. Eggsy curled lube-slicked fingers into black fabric with a hitch in his breath and a quirk to his lips.
FIN
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