Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters end up in. Everything else belongs to someone else and that's the way of it.

Insult To Injury

As embarrassing as it was to admit, and frankly there really were no words to accurately describe how mortified Harry was by his own behavior, Harry couldn't help but feel like a wife who was waiting for her no good, cheating husband to get home after a night of debauchery. That he had no claim over the boy he found himself waiting up for didn't seem to register with his common sense at all. The boy could have gone from club to club, paying any number of strippers to provide him with a variety of sexual favors, and Harry wouldn't have the right to complain. Hell, the people the boy would have met tonight might not even have insisted on being paid given the boy's looks and ability to charm formerly rational people into taking their clothes off for him. And he could have insisted on going too, the boy would have probably let him come too if he'd wanted, Harry knew. He really had no one to blame but himself and…and dear God but he needed to get a grip!

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, the glasses he was still wearing jostling with the movements, Harry determinedly turned his attention back to the screen he'd been monitoring, watching the blip that marked the boy's travels as he came ever closer to Harry's own neighborhood. They were recording everywhere the boy went for later analysis, and therefore there was no reason for him to watch the monitor. But obviously his guest was returning to his house, as promised, and that being the case Harry told himself that he should leave his office and go to bed so that it didn't look like he'd bothered to wait up for the boy at all.

So Harry forced himself to shut off the screen, pushed back his chair, and leaving his office headed for bed as planned. Having already changed into his usual nightwear, something he'd had no need for the last two nights, Harry slid under his covers and turned off his bedside light, thinking to himself that it would do them both good if the boy slept in the guestroom instead. He'd be rather irked if the boy didn't at least try to sneak into bed with him, Harry acknowledged, though he would kick him out and insist that he sleep in the guestroom after that happened.

Probably.

Head turned to face the glowing numbers of his bedside clock, Harry watched the minutes tick by, occasionally closing his eyes to pretend like he could sleep before opening them again to see how little time had passed.

And then finally his bedroom door was opened, a form Harry now knew intimately standing in the doorway but not entering. He hadn't even heard the boy come up the stairs and really-he'd closed the door. The boy had just left and closed the door behind him. Like he was a parent checking in on his child before calling it a night.

He wasn't going to sleep with him? Why the hell not? Had he tired himself out fucking around with whoever he might have met in those blasted clubs and bars he'd gone to? Was he just losing interest already?

Well aware of how ridiculous he was being, he could hear his own thoughts after all, Harry nonetheless couldn't seem to help himself from getting out of bed, putting on his robe, and walking to his bedroom door, his destination wherever the boy happened to be so that he could find out just what was going on here.

He would just ask how the hunt for his target had went, see for himself what the boy was doing since for all Harry knew the boy could be laying a trap for Harry in the house or storing poison in something Harry's would consume in the morning. That he didn't really believe that either was really a possibility, well that was just more proof that he was utterly twitterpated with the boy.

God, he was using a word like twitterpated now. What the hell was his world coming to?

Perhaps it was because the majority of his peers, those he'd grown up with and who were regular civilians, were by and large married with children at this point, Harry speculated to himself as he methodically checked all the second floor rooms. He'd become distant from friends from his schooldays and such because of his busy work schedule and the fact that he really didn't have all that much in common with them. As for romantic or even just a regular sexual partner…those sorts of bonds seemed beyond him to say the least. Not to mention the fact that a relationship built on lies was both tiresome and weighing on one's conscience rather painfully.

But now here he was, presented with another man who seemed to know everything there was to know about him, was potentially in the same business, an excellent lover, and to top it all off was intriguing as hell. There was the oddest sense of rightness when they were together too, a feeling that they complimented each other somehow, and that was what was really fucking with his ability to think logically now.

Pleased to have finally come to a realization that didn't make him feel like some teenage idiot thinking with his cock instead of his brain, Harry was actually smiling a little as he reached the staircase, eyebrows rising when he saw that his guest was currently sitting at the bottom of said stairs. A lamp positioned near the stairs was providing the boy with some light, which was being used by the boy to read.

"That is not good for your eyes."

"So people keep telling me. Can't sleep?" The boy hadn't jostled at all in reaction to his voice, clearly having been aware of Harry presence, but at the same time he wasn't moving, continuing to give Harry his back. Now why was that, exactly?

"I thought I'd wait up to see if you found your target."

"No sign of him yet."

)

Continuing down the stairs, his eyes centered on the boy, Harry noticed when the muscles underneath the boy's relatively tight, well washed T-shirt tightened up in reaction to his growing nearness, just as he saw the flinching of some of those same muscles again, as if in protest of the earlier movement. Interesting. And then the boy was moving to a standing position in one smooth motion, the other man turning around to face him in a ready for anything stance. A predator's natural reaction really, being hurt and therefore on the offensive.

The light from the lamp wasn't quite bright enough to be a dependable source of illumination, but Harry was fairly sure that was a bruise blossoming along the right side of the boy's jaw.

Eyes focused on that detail Harry took the last couple steps a bit quicker than normal, the boy having to take a step back to give Harry room to stand on level with him, though Harry was still taller naturally. He could smell the fact that boy had recently showered, his lovely hair still damp and clinging to the boy's neck. And reaching out Harry carefully grasped the boy's face to move it a little so that he could get a better look at the discoloration.

"You got into a fight?"

"A little one. Nothing worth mentioning, really." A small, controlled shrug the boy didn't quite pull off as believable. "And you should head to bed, you know, seeing as you haven't been getting much sleep these last couple of days thanks to yours truly." The boy's tone was cheeky and meant to distract, but Harry wasn't fooled or distracted. Because now he was thinking that the boy's choice to stay down here rather than join him in bed might have something to do with a physical injury the boy didn't want him to know about. Those sorts of things were hard to hide when you were naked after all.

"I'll believe it's nothing after you turn around and let me see your back."

"My back?"

"Now."

Harry could see the boy debate refusing to let him see, or even trying to convince him that he wasn't injured in the first place, but thankfully the boy had the sense to know that that would only end with Harry forcing him to let him see. And accepting his fate the boy gave in with a sigh, informing him that he'd already taken care of the wounds before coming here as he turned around to present Harry with his back.

Lifting up the hem of the boy's shirt Harry's noted a light bruising over the boy's side, but that wasn't anything to worry about so he continued to pull the material all the way up to the broad shoulders before him, revealing two large band aids that appeared to be haphazardly slapped over whatever wounds the boy had received. No doctor consulted, he would bet.

"See? So little they didn't even need proper bandaging."

Not buying that for a moment, otherwise the boy would have just outright stated what he'd done to himself, Harry peeled back one of the band aids, ignoring the hissing sound the boy made in reaction. And getting a look at what he was looking at it was Harry's turn to hiss a little. "How deep are the puncture wounds and what caused them?"

"Nails. And they wasn't that deep, Harry. And I cleaned uhm right up."

Even if the boy had cleaned the wounds as well as he could given where the wounds were located Harry doubted that the nails had been sterile when they'd pierced the tanned flesh in front of him. And infection was a very real possibility, meaning that these wounds needed to be professionally cleaned as soon as possible.

"I'm taking you to the nearest hospital."

"I don't need to go to the bloody hospital. I'll be fine. They were just a couple of nails."

"Do you have any idea the amount of damage infection can cause? This one here, do you realize how close it came to your spine? And the other one, it would be a short trip up to your brain depending on how aggressive the infection was. You're getting this looked at right now, Darling."

"It's got to be past three in the morning at this point, Harry. I'll see a doctor later. When he or she ain't sleep deprived and I'm up to charming him into not asking too many questions about how I got nailed in the first place."

Not believing the boy for a second Harry stated that they were going to go now.

And back and forth the two agents went like a couple of kids, their wording changing little as Harry made it clear that he was going to make the boy go to the hospital and see a proper doctor, and the boy making it just as clear that he would go later and that Harry was being a mother hen.

Being the men that they were, they soon devolved into threatening to make the other do things their way, neither actually making a move to follow through because in all honesty they didn't want to fight with the other verbally, much less physically. Even if Harry did believe it was for the boy's own good.

"Fine then." Harry finally stated, his frustration levels getting dangerously high. "We'll get four hours of sleep and then I'm taking you to see a doctor. It's that or I knock you unconscious and take you now."

"Fine. Go to bed and I'll see you in four."

"Oh no, you're coming to bed with me. That way if you have seizures or go into shock I'll be right there to help you."

For the first time the boy looked a little taken aback and worried as he asked if that could really happen.

In truth Harry had no idea if that could happen, so he settled on giving the boy a look that made it clear he was being serious about the situation. Which he was.

"Shit." An annoyed look, but his words had obviously gotten through to the boy. Finally. "We'll have to put pillows between us or something though. If you accidentally touch them while I'm asleep I'm liable to punch you. It's a reflex sort of thing."

"I am perfectly capable of staying on my side of the bed, I'll have you know."

"No you aren't. You cling more than my kid sister after a nightmare." A wide grin. "It's pretty fucking adorable, really."

Feeling himself go red in the face, dear God what was it about this boy that got to him so completely, Harry focused on counting back from thirty in an effort to calm himself down. No easy task but he did have years of experience on his side, thankfully.

Pointing towards the stairs Harry took some comfort in the fact that the boy obeyed without question, heading back up them with Harry following after a couple steps. And if Harry focused his gaze on the other man's ass…well he deserved some sort of reward for not putting the boy over his knee at this point and giving him the spanking he had coming to him for being such a provocative little shit all the time.

Once in the bedroom the boy didn't bother to take any of his clothes off, instead sliding under the covers and stretching out on his side, with his back facing the wall.

Hanging up his robe on its proper hook Harry walked over to the bed and slid in too, quite deliberately staying as far on his side as he could. And he'd damn well stay there too.

Chuckling, the boy grinned at him before closing his eyes. "Night, Harry."

"Good night."

)

That morning Eggsy sat in the driver's seat of his car, doing his best to grin like an idiot while Harry continued to pretend not to sulk in the passenger seat. Personally Eggsy felt that he deserved a reward for not telling the other man that he'd told him so about the cuddling, but apparently Harry had gotten it into his head that it was all Eggsy's fault that at some point during the four hours they'd slept together, Harry had inched over to his side of the bed and spooned up against him. And yeah, Eggsy had cuddled him back with his arm wrapped around Harry's waist, but at the end of the day Eggsy knew he was one of those sleepers who didn't move once out. Ergo Harry had to have made the first move even if the older man refused to believe that.

Though the way Harry was acting, Eggsy was starting to think that Harry didn't normally cuddle with people he slept with. Which would make him special, wouldn't it?

Liking that idea quite a bit Eggsy didn't stop and think to question Harry's directions when the other man told him what roads to take, a good eight minutes passing before it belatedly occurred to him that they were going in the opposite direction of the nearest hospital. And they also weren't going to Kingsman either, so where the hell were they going?

"Just go where I tell you."

Lips twitching at the snippiness of Harry's delivery, Eggsy didn't comment, especially since twenty odd minutes later he had a pretty good idea where they were going. He'd come this way plenty of times after all, and actually this suited him a lot more than going to some random doctor or even a Kingsman specialist.

Merlin's wife Rachel was actually a forensic anthropologist, but she knew how to patch a bloke up and also happened to be one of his favorite people. If he ever married a woman, Eggsy had long ago decided that he'd want her to be just like Rachel. Beautiful, brilliant, and damn near feral when it came to her loved ones. Nobody messed with the people she loved, and those she loved knew that her love was as constant and eternal as her love of bones and biological oddities.

It was because she was as much a workaholic as her husband that Rachel had a home office, with everything one might need to study bodies, both alive and dead. This would not be the first time she'd patched him up after a mishap, so the only thing he'd really have to worry about is the fact that Harry and Merlin might pick up on the fact that he utterly adored her and take offense to that. Harry because they were currently sleeping together, and Merlin because no man wanted someone as gorgeous and charming as Eggsy flirting with his wife. So yeah, he was going to have to watch himself there.

There were a lot of ways and places to discard a body at Merlin's place.

Remembering to pretend that he had no idea where they were going and why, thankfully, Eggsy waited for the directions to come, Harry schooling his features out of his disagreeable 'I'm not pouting' look only when they'd arrived at their destination, Eggsy pulling off to the side to park the car in his normal space.

Getting out Eggsy waited for Harry to join him, asking where they were in what he hoped was a convincing tone of voice. Harry could usually see right through him, but the man hadn't had nearly enough caffeine yet to function at full capacity.

"This is Merlin's place. I asked if I could bring you here to be patched up."

"I see. That's very nice of him, though I'm not sure I trust him not to do more harm than good."

"Hush."

Opting to follow the order, it would just be safer if he talked as little as possible, Eggsy didn't comment when they walked down the short lane that led to one of the two large building at the back of the house. One was Merlin's at home workshop, the other was Rachel's. And stopping in front of the latter's Eggsy smiled politely when Merlin met them at the front door, obviously expecting them as he told them to come in.