Hello Again, My Honeys,

I managed to finish the first chapter so long, yay. It took me slightly longer than expected but I had a blast writing it. Thank you so much for those of you who left me such lovely reviews. I was absolutely stunned, it meant the world to me. I'll be replying to them when I get the time to offer my thanks.

I'll also be working on either a one-shot story or the next chapter of Refractory Sunset in the next week or so as I just bought the new Kingsman DVD and can finally get all my facts in order. I do hope the wait wasn't too long. I can't wait to binge watch it twenty-thousand time...

Please enjoy for now:

Chapter 1: Kaleidoscope Crypsis

Viridian-Peacock blue, a perfect miasma of the male Adonis Blue's dorsal view, the Callophrys Rubi's lively green body and the Glaucopsyche Alexis' iridescent anterior shimmer. It was the most unique and breathtaking collision of brilliant blue-green shades Harry Hart had ever come across in his life. And it wasn't even the composite of a rare butterfly's wing. No, the complex colours belonged solely to the eyes of a stunning young man.

Excalibur was devastatingly handsome man of twenty-four, his burnished russet gold locks carefully parted and slicked back with sweet smelling pomade as assured footsteps led the Duke of York back towards the front of the Kingsman shop. The agent was several inches shorter than Harry himself, the perfect height to fit comfortably in the circle of the older man's arms or fill the hollow space left behind in his bed. Not to mention the seemingly deceptive, boyish, vulnerability that clung to his perfectly relaxed posture.

Harry was not fooled, however. Eggsy had the broad-shouldered frame of a perfectly lethal soldier beneath that soft looking cashmere jumper and bespoke charcoal grey trousers. A history in gymnastics, inner-city parkour and a lifetime of light-fingered finesse on the streets had undoubtedly gifted him that sinuous and deadly gait. It was unlike the snobbish posturing and upper-class arrogance Harry was used to seeing in and around the Monarchy.

Cheeky little shit that Eggsy was, he knew it too.

He was grinning cockily over his shoulder, lively enjoyment pigmenting bright viridian green irises a deeper, more sensual, blue. The tip of a saliva-wet tongue was dragging deliberately slow across luscious, petal, pink lips; the bright flash of a vermillion red split in the plush surface (no doubt from his most recent mission) giving the 'tailor' a finely razored edge of death.

'Y'r gonna love this, guv.' Eggsy's teased, briefly forgetting in whose presence he was standing. ''M willing to bet y've never been to Fitting Room 3 before, even though y'd look right fit lording in there…all perfectly dressed up and lethal.' Coughing discretely to conceal the dusting of pink that rose across his cheeks, Harry felt rather out of his depth as he was ushered forward with a gentle hand on the small of his back and the sassiest of smiles dimpling youthful cheeks up at him.

Fuck! The boy was a teasing little shit! Even though he could clearly see the steely resolve reflected underneath the playfulness of the boy's gaze, there was no mistaking he was just as much a professional at his job as Merlin was. Albeit, with a more unusual and unassuming air.

'Dagonet has cleared out the shop for your visit, Sir. Security purposes I am told.' The twenty-four-year-old continued in a more subdued tone, tapping an affirmative rhythm against the side of his glasses. 'If I am going to be stationed as your protector twenty-four-seven, I'm going to have to stock-up.' Startling visibly at the smoothly enunciated accent, Harry barely had the time to wonder at its abrupt appearance before he was led across the aforementioned fitting room's threshold.

Whiskey-brown eyes collided briefly with viridian green in the reflection of a three-tiered mirror, the younger agent's smaller frame slipping silently behind him as the heavy oak door clicked shut with the toe of a polished Oxford's deliberate nudge. The small, enclosed, space was rapidly filling with the intoxicating aroma of freshly-brewed Earl Grey tea, clotted cream, fiery amber, tailor's chalk and blazing gunpowder.

It was a dangerously addictive aroma, the lilting fragrance having sunk deeply into light-green cashmere wool and youthfully smooth skin. Harry wanted nothing more than to lean forward and nose his way up the side a vulnerable throat, to worry pale flesh between sharp canines and see if Eggsy tasted just as good as he smelt. Or if he could just as easily draw the most delightful breathy moans from between lush petal pink lips—.

Shit! Swiftly averting whiskey-brown eyes lest they betray the subtle hitch of his breath, perfectly manicured nails dug painfully deep into the palm of his hand as he desperately sought to ground the sensations rolling like flame across his skin. It had been many years since the fifty-three-year-old Lepidopterist had been so affected by another person's eclipsing presence. To selfishly want to claw his way beneath their skin and lose himself in their entire existence, to entwine their soul around his fingertips and—.

'If you'd follow me, Your Majesty. The armoury is this way,' Startling violently at the distant sound of 'Your Majesty' falling from previously teasing lips, a heavy and reluctant sorrow flowed deeply within Harry's consciousness as he couldn't help but be reminded of the heavy duty now resting solely upon his shoulders. He would be assuming the fucking throne of England in less than a month, a responsibility he had never once wanted for himself.

There was a bloody good reason why the Duke of York was so hard to pinpoint despite his many titles and professions, he was a fiercely private person. And after V-Day, everything he had treasured had crumbled to ash. He could no longer escape the burdens woven through the Royal Family tapestry and blood, no matter how much he wished to hole himself away somewhere in Scotland and study rare butterflies with no connection to the outside world.

'Please, Eggsy.' He implored quietly distressed. 'It's Harry, just Harry. I rather like being myself around those I trust with no deference and constant propriety. And since you are bound to be closer to me than anyone else, please be yourself in return. I'll never ask you to satisfy some out-dated shit custom instilled in thirteen-fuck-hundred sometime.' Glancing towards the mirror with a slight smirk curling the corner of his lips, whiskey-brown orbs traced the flicker of joy flitting across a previously closed-off expression as the younger man's smile settled into something just shy of belligerently devious.

'Y' prefer me when I'm like this, guv? I'm sure I'll drive y' off yer head by the end of the week.' Before the older gentleman could correct that assumption however, a softer and more understanding expression flickered across viridian green depths.

'I understand, 'Arry. Yeah?' Eggsy continued. 'Y' want te be y'self as much as possible, jus' like me when I'm on me own.' Barely concealing the shudder that transversed his spine at the heavily accented ''Arry' falling from petal pink lips, whiskey-brown eyes darkened considerably in the room's poor lighting as a hesitant but soothing touch came to rest upon his shoulder.

That was another first for the future Monarch, people were not permitted to touch royalty without them initiating contact first. Alas, this sweet boy, so gentle and considerate, was determined to treat him like any other normal human being. It was both refreshing and intensely disorientating at the same time.

'So, y' wanna see a top secret spy armoury, 'Arry?' Eggsy teased with waggling eyebrows, gun calloused fingertips tugging an unassuming hook downwards to their left. 'We ain't goin' up or down like Fitting Room One or Two, we'll be tumblin' sideways.' Punctuating his words with the distinctive hiss of hydraulic locks sliding out of place, a near invisible green-wallpapered door swung inwards towards a small tiled shower and sink annex.

Lifting an incredulous brow at the sheepish expression that crossed the agent's features as he realized what he said, Harry kept a careful two steps behind polished black Oxfords as Eggsy led them deeper into an open display room decorated with terracotta tiles, wall to ceiling beige velvet display cases and no-doubt an endless array of lethal spy accessories.

Calloused fingertips wasted no time in sliding the hem of a cashmere jumper over a perfectly coiffed head, powerfully lithe muscles rolling sensually with silken movements as tailored white fabric conformed to the contours a flawlessly sculpted back. The twenty-four-year-old agent was completely oblivious to the effect his casual shimmy was having on his princely companion, the wave of a hand merely directing the older man to one of the tartan ottomans as he sauntered towards the display of Kingsman pistols.

'I'm only gonna take the basics fer now since I 'ave not had the chance to analyze the threats closest te y'.' Eggsy continued in blissful ignorance; well-practiced movements slipping a black leather holster, tailored to fit the small of his back, into place as he loaded one of the two dual-barrel pistols he usually carried. The smooth slide of a clip sliding seamlessly into place, soon led to adjusting the sight by resting the muzzle over his forearm to check its accuracy before repeating the fifty-second process with the other gun as well.

'Perfect,' He intoned triumphantly, newly loaded pistols impeccably situated against the sensual dip of his spine as he reached for his discarded jumper. Throwing a teasing wink over his shoulder before smoothing the indulgent fabric over his short frame again, Eggsy strategically stepped away from the display case to pursue the rest of Fitting Room 3.

Harry's mouth had gone completely dry over the course of the last three minutes, whiskey coloured orbs lidded heavily behind long lashes as they shamelessly roamed the contours of peridot-green cashmere to hopefully catch sight of a deadly holster again. Only, the soft wool had been perfectly tailored against detection, the woollen ridges only drawing attention to the generous swell of Excalibur's ass and perfectly muscled thighs outlined by bespoke charcoal grey trousers.

Shit! Excalibur was absolutely perfect. Harry would not endeavour to change a single thing about the young man, not even if it felt like he was slowly losing his mind in the wake of sauntering hips and confident, playful, smirks. Watching raptly as calloused fingertips slipped a golden signet ring onto the agent's right pinkie, an expensive ivory-faced Bremont soon completed the gentlemanly cache before steady fingers reached upwards to comb back a few escaped russet gold locks.
''re y' trained in any weapons, 'Arry?'

'I may have had a stint as an officer in the RM a long time ago, but I haven't exactly felt the need to keep up my marksmanship. I am a Lepidopterist, Eggsy, a pacifist. I have a PhD in butterflies, they don't tend to shoot back.' Delighted at the snort of laughter that spilled from between petal pink lips, an answering smile crossed the older man's features as he watched arched eyebrows furrow deep in thought.

'Right. So y' don't like initiating violence, I can work with that. But, if I handed y' a gun and told y' te shoot to protect y'rself, y' could right?'

'Yes, my boy. I was a sniper.'

'Well, fuck me.' Eggsy breathed in surprise, determined not to watch the older gentleman's expression lest he lose himself as he stepped towards the glasses display case.

'Those prescription?' Motioning to the tortoise-shell framed glasses perched on Harry's nose, the Prince graciously nodded his head in affirmation despite the disappointed 'tsk' that hissed between the younger agent's teeth. That was going to make things a lot more difficult, Eggsy thought to himself. Taking his time to select a pair of wayfarers and plain tortoise-shell frames that was almost identical to Harry's current pair, he swiftly shut them away in the cases provided before placing them into his pocket.

'Y' know y'r prescription?' At the answering negative, Eggsy was quick to offer Harry a reassuring smile. 'That's fine. Merlin'll be able te hack y'r files in ten minutes. May take 'bout a week te fit them with the correct lenses, though.' He continued absently, gliding passed the ottomans, tiled annex and reopening the door to the fitting room proper.

'Considering their importance, though; it'll probably take less than five.' As they passed the threshold into the small fitting room, sparks of pure sensation crackled near-visibly through the air the moment their shoulders brushed together. Harry was so startled by the invasion of his personal space that he barely noticed the fleeting caress of flighty-fingertips licking heated flames across his palm. Glancing down wide-eyed at the perfect golden circle sitting innocuously in the space where Eggsy's fingers had been mere seconds previously, time seemed to have screeched to an abrupt halt.

'What—?'

'Signet ring. Touch the contact behind the ring,' Eggsy demonstrated, the scent and sound of singed metal prickling pungently through the air before dissipating the moment his shifted his thumb backwards. 'It'll deliver fifty-thousand volts to stun a target, may knock them out fer a good few hours.'

'Since y' don't like violence, 'Arry. I think it'll suit y' better than a pistol or Rainmaker.' Harry was stunned by the younger man's careful consideration. He had been right when he called Eggsy a pure-hearted soul all those years ago, not many would have had the courtesy to accommodate his preferences without looking for something in return. And as he gazed into perfectly sincere viridian green depths, he could not detect a single selfish motivation flickering across the colourful surface.

Eggsy's actions were born purely of kindness, not conceit.

Watching fascinated as a lithe frame weaved lazily towards the shop's front counter, a quick and quiet conversation passed between the attendant and agent as two glasses cases were handed over with affirmation. Eggsy's smile was blindingly bright as he turned back to Harry, near-silent footsteps gliding predatorily over tiled floors as time screeched to an abrupt halt.

God, the boy was simply beautiful—.

'So, 'Arry, how likely 're y' to be recognized in London?'

'Since I'm not really that well known outside of noble circles, I would say it depends on the time and location. Why?'

'Great, it's still early 'nough. Means we can get te know each other over a pint, proper British-like, y' know? Without havin' te worry about deploying them weapons, that is. Or scrambling the press cameras.' He tapped his Bremont suggestively, belaying the secrets concealed within its dials and golden buttons.

'Best te take advantage of y'r anonymity whilst y' still can. Y' look like y' need a drink.' Harry couldn't disagree with that, he had often snuck out of the Royal Palace just to transverse urban London in his youth. A tradition he still carried on with till this day. Although it had been a while since he had been in a proper British pub without having to worry about threats to his life or relentless security detail following him.

'Alright, Eggsy. But we have to be back at the Palace by six. I have a meeting at seven.'

...

Humming a quiet melody to himself in the bespoke leather confines of a shared Kingsman taxi, Eggsy tried desperately not to think of just how close he was sitting to his charge, their legs brushing together every now and then, as the lazy mid-afternoon cityscape continued to flash monochrome grey outside bulletproof windows.

Eggsy was in awe at his own daring suggestion, wondering briefly just where the hell he found the courage to ask the future bloody King of England out for a pint on a Thursday afternoon. But then again, the subtle dark circles drawn melancholically beneath beautiful whiskey-brown eyes was telling enough of the man's internal upheaval. He had looked so weary and withdrawn beneath the soft lighting of the tailor shop, perhaps only a few days away from cracking that lovely, gentlemanly, veneer.

It couldn't have been easy to have lost so much family in the space of a single day, never mind having been kept captive by a psychotic megalomaniac for several torturous weeks. Harry seemed more like the type of person to enjoy studying his butterflies in peace rather than being coaxed into ruling a fractured nation. It was a fact that spoke volumes to the younger agent's deep seated compassion. The future Monarch was a quiet, shy, man that was not yet ready for the burdens heaped upon his shoulders.

And the more Excalibur knew of the Prince's personality quirks, the easier it would be to stand faithfully by his side. Or so he told himself. It was not at all because of the inexplicable, selfish, desire he had to know everything and anything about the older man's soothing and gentle presence.

Even now, peaking discretely from beneath the curl of long lashes; the twenty-four-year-old couldn't help the surge of delight warming his insides as Harry slowly relaxed the deeper they travelled into London. The small, satisfied, quirk of pale lips; reflected the agent's own answering grin as viridian green eyes continuously observed every minute shift in the Lepidopterist's expression.

'We're approaching your destination, sirs.' An unexpected voice interjected suddenly, causing the younger agent to tighten his grip violently around the hilt of a familiar black Rainmaker. The black London taxi had come to a puttering halt outside the au fait Black Prince, graceful footsteps leading the young tailor out of the car as he crossed the cobbled pavement to open the door for the Duke of York.

A brief shudder of arousal shifted casually down the length of his spine however, the moment the taller man slid graciously out of his seat and straightened an impressive hundred-and-eighty-seven centimetre frame. Leaning down slightly to accommodate Eggsy's nine centimetre shorter frame, the faintest of breaths tickled the shell of a delicate ear the moment a perfectly enunciated 'thank you' whispered passed pale lips.

'W-wait, 'Arry!' Eggsy cried suddenly, a vibrant flush dusting the bridge of his nose as desperate fingertips grabbed hold of perfectly tailored dove-grey fabric. Successfully halting the progress of polished black Oxfords towards a double door entrance, a trembling palm came to rest precariously over the slow beat of Harry's heart as he glanced imploringly into whiskey-brown depths.

'Sorry, can't let you go in there, lookin' like that.' He murmured apologetically, a flighty forefinger and thumb gliding sensually across dark blue silk to undo an expensive tie before a flash of shivering desire ignited hauntingly beneath youthfully gold skin. The Prince's breath of warm surprise, bitten off into a near undetectable moan, tickled playfully across the downy tips of russet blonde locks as time suspended itself on a string.

'We'll be guaranteed anonymity 'ere on the edge of the Estate, 'specially if y'r with me.' Eggsy continued abashedly. 'But lookin' a bit too put together in a place like this is as dangerous as walkin' through Valentine's bunker without weapons.' Slipping the newly divested strip of fabric into the pocket of his beige winter coat; Eggsy swiftly unbuttoned the first two pins of Harry's neat white dress shirt before hooking his umbrella over his left forearm and taking a precautionary step back to observe his work.

It wasn't quite right—.

'May I?' Slowly reaching his hands towards perfectly coiffed chocolate brown locks so as to not startle the man, a grin of pure satisfaction kissed the corner of petal pink lips as a slightly reserved but trusting nod urged him forward. Shifting to the tip of his toes to stretch his shorter frame a few inches higher, Eggsy tried desperately not to think of just how little space was left between their clothed chests as a quiet exhalation breathed intimately against the seam of his lips.

Jesus Christ! The brief pleasure was like lightning travelling from the back of his neck to the tips of his toes, a plush bottom lip caught headily between worrying teeth as telegraphed movements gave the King enough time to pull away if he truly wished to. He did not move, however.

The instant careful fingers sunk into luxuriously woven chocolate locks, a ragged breath of surprise hitched painfully in the back of Excalibur's throat.

Fuck, but it was soft. Absolutely perfect as strands shifted like water between gun-calloused fingertips. He took great care to separate the threads from sweet-smelling pomade, a chuckle of pure joy spilling passed petal pink lips as silver-threaded filaments curled into a deliciously, beatific, mess. Oh, but it was beautiful. The style definitely more suited to the Prince's eccentric nature.

Making sure to flip a curling fringe backwards over its natural twist, Eggsy skilfully crafted a softer and more delicate debonair coif before brushing the longer and more unmanageable curls behind elegantly formed ears. A few restless twirls still escaped the new placement however, drawing a helplessly besotted smile from pink lips as viridian green eyes sparkled brilliant blue-green in the fractured sunlight.

'There y' go, guv. Now y' look more relaxed.' Eggsy winked playfully, briefly resting the tip of his umbrella on the ground before placing a leading palm on the small of Harry's back. 'Still every inch the King.' He promised before crossing the doorway into the darkened, traditional, pub.

After placing their orders at the bar, Eggsy made sure to keep Harry in the line of his sight as the older gentleman took a seat in one of the free booths at the back of the pub. Constantly scanning the shadowed corners for any possible threat, absent fingertips pushed the sleeves of his white dress shirt and peridot green jumper towards his elbows as he rolled his shoulders to get rid of the restrictive stiffness his previous mission had instilled into his lithe frame.

His beige thigh-length coat was hanging from one of the hooks beside the bar, carefully concealing the fact that it came with a thousand-pound plus price tag. Since the Black Prince was naturally quiet after lunchtime and he had practically grown up in its confines, Eggsy had chosen it specifically for its familiarity and the usual guarantee that no one was stupid enough to cause trouble whilst he was there.

Well, usually. The young agent could not speak for Dean or his mutts, despite the beating Percival had visited upon them a year ago. It had not been easy getting his mother and sister away from this side of London without cracking open a few skulls. But then again, there was something to be said for stray dogs biting and yapping regardless of knowing just how outmatched they were.

At least the beer was good, he reasoned. The best he had tasted in all of London.

Toasting the barman with the slight dip of his head as he collected their order, a smooth turn on his heel led the twenty-four-year-old back to Harry's side as he settled himself on the opposite side of the booth. In the dim autumn sunlight streaming through dust smeared window, the heavy scent of alcohol and stale cigarettes was swirling pungently around greasy fried foods and cheap lemon floor cleaner. It wasn't the most pleasant of aromas Eggsy had ever smelt, but it seemed to relax the subtle heaviness weaved between his shoulders.

'Guinness fer y'.' He placed the dark brew on a wooden coaster before its owner, his own pale ale smearing frothy white liquid across the top of his lip as he tasted the smooth slide of cool bitterness down his throat. It was a refreshing heaven, a small smile sigh of relief exhaled from the depths of his lungs as he relaxed further back into a cushioned seat.

'So, 'Arry. Why butterflies? I thought the Monarchy only went into politics and public service.' Realizing that the Prince was not going to open the conversation anytime soon, Eggsy had decided to take over their introductions as he noted the increasingly dark thoughts swirling wildly behind whiskey-brown eyes. Whatever Harry was thinking of, a distraction seemed to be the best way to snap him out of the silence that had fallen since their drive from the shop.

It wasn't that Harry was ignoring him, no. He was distracted enough by his own inner turmoil. Eggsy had seen the same look reflected in his own eyes for long enough to recognize it in others. A fact that made him want to soothe away the anguish he could imagine lingering within the older man's soul, swirling and twisting his thoughts in and out of a daze he only seemed to escape when their eyes collided briefly over the table or talk turned towards his chosen profession.

'There are exceptions,' A delighted, teasing, smirk bloomed bitter-sweet across pale lips, urging the younger agent forward in his seat as he leaned his elbows on the wooden table despite proper etiquette. 'Mother allowed me to pursue academics instead of staying in the Royal Marines for the sole reason that I wasn't the direct Heir. That and she couldn't separate me from the Palace Butterfly Collection grandfather helped me build upon.'

'The very first butterfly I pinned was an Adonis Blue when I was four, it was love at first sight as they saying goes. Only, I preferred watching them flitting about the Palace Gardens alive rather than the dead specimens kept in the stiff collection room.'

'There is nothing more beautiful than catching sight of a butterfly's wings, mid-flutter, bedecked in the frosted dew of a summer dawn.' Listening intently to the vivid imagery Harry painted of his passion, Eggsy found himself drinking in the rich flow of a soothing baritone as its gentle lull betrayed the older gentleman's growing excitement.

He was slowly losing his awareness of his surroundings as the minutes disappeared into an hour, a rookie mistake that soon came to bite him in the arse as the distinctive sound of a pub door swung violently open and forced viridian green eyes to collide with a figure he never hoped to see in his life ever again. The fact that the man interrupted the beautiful analogy of Harry's summer in the wilds of Scotland researching Celestial Moths after his graduation from Oxford, was enough to immediately stiffen the younger agent's spine as an old and instinctive fear caked like mud across his skin.

Fuck!

'The fuck 're y' doing 'ere, Mugsy?! Y' takin' the fuckin' piss?'

'I don't remember you owning this establishment Dean,' He hissed warningly, distinctly aware of concerned whiskey-brown eyes colliding briefly with viridian green as steady fingertips curled deliberately tight across the hilt of his Rainmaker. There was no need to get into a fight, he reminded himself. He had risen above his stepfather and his cronies' provocation a long time ago, having cast it aside the moment he had beaten the man to a pulp before taking his mother and sister away from the Estates over a month ago.

'I'm so sorry, 'Arry.' He whispered with genuine regret. They had only just started on their second round of drinks and he had just begun to relax enough to tell the older man about his own youthful adventures on the gymnastics mats. The subtle sexual tension filling the air between them had already soured with the bitter tang of crackling anger, the shuffle of feet surrounding their table as Dean reached out a hand to grip Eggsy's arm in an attempt to drag him from his seat.

'Fuckin' rent boy, y' can't do anything but fall te y'r knees in front of old, rich, geezers. Found y'rself a proper Sugar Daddy this time, eh? Ya fuckin' freak—.'

'Don't.' Eggsy warned icily, his voice colder than the Arctic Ocean as a swift twirl of his umbrella had the man's elbow wedged painfully behind his back and polished Oxfords kicked his legs from under him to force him to his knees. ''Re 'y goin' te walk away quietly and apologize or do I 'ave to teach y' 'ow to kneel in front of y'r betters?' The young 'tailor' did not even blink as two shadows loomed on either side of him in an attempt of intimidation.

He snorted quietly. Really? Six against one? He sure as hell had faced worse odds than that and survived without a single scrape. It was almost laughable that they thought he'd be affected by their display. The grin that crossed petal pink lips was unforgivingly sharp, sure strides stepping further away from the booth towards the centre of the bar as he tapped the tip of black umbrella impatiently against the tiled floor.

'Come on, then.' He beckoned playfully, twitching fingertips staying well away from the small of his back in a desperate attempt to regain control of his anger. If he gave in to the urge to draw his dual-barrel pistols and finish this confrontation in the next three seconds, there was no hell generous enough to spare their souls from his true wrath.

And heaven do help the earth if anyone so much as looked towards Harry the wrong way again or insult his gentle character. He was Excalibur, the King's aide and Knight. Destruction and deadly poise had long since weaved together a naturally protective nature deep within him, a lethality Harry Hart had drawn out from deep within his soul.

...

It was a macabre dance of dominion and grace that followed, lethal legs never once miss stepping a swift turn on polished black Oxfords or the hilt of Kingsman Rainmaker dragging hard enough to shatter bone and choke the life out of vulnerable necks. Eggsy had impeccable control of his body, swaying with preternatural elegance honed through years of gymnastic flexibility and intensive weapons training.

He was a vision of black, green and russet gold; laying waste to his targets one by one as they fell to the floor in unabashed disgrace. Harry simply couldn't take his eyes off the younger man's deadly ballet, shifting subtly to cross his legs beneath the table as he remembered Excalibur had stepped up to defend the honour of his character.

The all-consuming rage that had flashed across viridian green depths had not been when Eggsy's dignity had been insulted, but when Harry's honour had been questioned. That in itself was sweet, that this young man he had only met once before in a brief encounter was willing to lay waste to a group of thugs simply because they had chosen to insult the wrong person.

Even now, standing tall amongst the bodies of his fallen victims, Eggsy was a vision of otherworldly beauty and debonair poise. It had taken less than a minute for him to halt the altercation, the pad of his thumb coming up to swipe away several droplets of blood escaping the re-opened split in his bottom lip. Fine muscle strain was wracking unexpectedly shivers across effortlessly straightened shoulders, viridian green orbs searching listlessly for whiskey-brown depths as slightly slower and more uncertain footsteps led him across the last few meters towards his seat.

'Sorry 'bout that, guv. Know y' don't like violence but—.' Holding up his hand to stall the younger agent's wholly unnecessary apology, Harry graciously inclined his head towards the seat across from him in invitation as he thoughtfully twisted a near empty pint of Guinness in the palm of his hand. Offering a gentle smile of reassurance the moment the young agent slid shakily back into his seat, he barely twitched in surprise when an answering text to the one he had sent off a few seconds before the altercation, resounded deafeningly from the confines of his waistcoat pocket.

Harry couldn't let Eggsy do all the hard work himself, he mused. Merlin, thorough bastard that he was; had prepared the future Monarch with enough emergency, clean-up and established work protocols over the last thirty years that he could completely wipe out Buckingham Palace without getting caught. Now, all he had to do was write out a single phrase or number, 'Oxfords not Brogues', and use them to his advantage.

Not that a pub brawl was need enough to employ the more deadly and complex codes he was intrinsically aware of, mind you.

'It's perfectly alright, my dear boy.' He continued softly. 'I've been in worse situations than this. I'm already well aware of your astonishing level of skill, this way you can say you passed the job interview entirely on your own merits. I wouldn't have taken you on as my Excalibur if I didn't already trust you implicitly, Eggsy.'

'And that,' Harry nodded in the direction of several unconscious men sprawled across the floor. 'Is but a small indication of the lengths you will go to protect me, whether from a trained threat or an unexpected one. There is absolutely nothing for you to apologize for, regardless of how the confrontation seems to have started.' Watching intently as a small flush of pleasure rose high across pale cheeks, a tentatively relieved smile tickled the young man's lips upwards as he leaned forward slightly to unroll his sleeves. There was not a single drop of blood staining the pristine white surface or peridot-green wool, a skilled indication of just how good Excalibur was at his job.

Harry was closely scrutinising the back of Eggsy's hand as he reached it upwards to capture another vermillion red drop before it could tumble towards the table's wooden surface. An unamused 'tsk' was falling freely from parted lips before he could reign it in, the Duke of York reaching assured fingers towards his waist-coat pocket as he withdrew a dark navy blue handkerchief. That simply would not do, he would not sit by and watch that beautiful cashmere wool besmirched by blood and strife.

'Would you mind leaning forward a bit, Eggsy?' Ridiculously pleased when the younger man did not so much as blink at the request before doing as was told, slightly unsteady fingers tipped back a shyly lowered head as he brushed dark blue silk across a sluggishly bleeding wound. The agent's own answering tremors were vibrating against the lepidopterist's fingertips as viridian green irises lidded lazily behind the fan of long black lashes.

It was simply breathtaking how easily Eggsy responded to the King's touch, the tip of a moist pink tongue chasing timidly after the pad of his thumb as copper red coloured its surface and darkening green irises cast a curious inquiry at lightening honey-gold orbs. Harry could tell that the young Kingsman agent had not grown up in the most loving of environments by that small action alone, he seemed to drink up the praise and affection like a starved child.

Dappled intermittently in fractured shafts of sunlight, delicately woven copper locks glittered like burnished filigree in the darkening dusk as not a single strand of hair dared to shift out of place. Viridian green eyes were shimmering with pure intrigue from the shadows of hooded eyelashes, an imploring question remaining unanswered within honeyed whiskey-brown depths as Harry tried desperately not to show the sheer fondness and arousal thickening like slow-moving treacle throughout his blood.

With the palm of his hand cupped protectively around a sharp jawline, it was hard not to notice the increasing tension that crackled like lightning between them. The long, drawn out, moment had become physically charged with a deeply painful need. It was stretching itself out into the nadirs of eternity, a sweet but overwrought reprieve seeking to pacify the previous violence that had burned fiery bright across youthfully tanned skin.

And despite the heavy undercurrent of provocation that snapped powerfully through the fizzing molecules between their bodies, that single point of contact, tenderly swiping away congealing blood from a luscious bottom lip; was more than enough to reign in any further explorations either of them hoped to entertain. This was simply not the time, Harry reminded himself harshly. He would not take advantage of this situation. Even if he could not totally deny having taken out his handkerchief solely for the excuse of touching Excalibur.

'Bugger,' He hissed irritably a few intimate minutes later, a sharp thumbnail dragging salaciously sweet across a frantically beating pulse-point as sporadic groans of pain forced them to snap their attention back to reality. Offering Eggsy the pocket square just in case the wound started bleeding again, it was inevitable that they would be interrupted sooner or later. Sooner if the indication of a stirring body to their left was any indication.

Damn it, Harry cursed. He did not want this, whatever it was, to end. He had just managed to completely enrapture himself to the young man sitting across from him, unwilling to offer up the easy back and forth that had started between them all those years ago. And the lingering glances of need, gentle smiles and a comfort in his own skin he had not felt for years—.

Well fuck, was this desperate pining not just perfect for an old man like him? And all for a young man nearly half his age? Just by what grace would his burgeoning need and dark attraction ever be returned? It was—.

'Right,' He abruptly silenced his own thoughts by clearing his throat, 'We should probably get going, Eggsy. A car is already waiting for us outside.' Swiftly averting his gaze lest he drown in the complex emotions swirling within trusting viridian green depths, the older gentleman called upon years of learned propriety as he offered his hand to guide the younger agent to his feet before carefully stepping across a hapless sprawl of thugs littering his path to the door.

The unconscious Land Lord, having been taken out in the midst of placing a call to the Met by tranquilizer dart from Eggsy's Bremont watch; stirred restlessly in his slump across the bar top as quieting footsteps shuffled passed him. Harry waited patiently for the younger man to resituate his bespoke winter coat across his shoulders, definitely not taking in the roll of lithe muscles beneath green and beige cashmere as the soft fabric smoothed out beneath expert touches.

Deft fingertips took care to only slip the coat's first button through its hole, a languid and more blasé style adopted by the youth of today that Harry could not deny suited Eggsy much more than being stiffly buttoned-up at all times. Holding open the front door for the agent to pass through before him, the smallest of flushes dotted pale cheeks at the Prince's gentlemanly behaviour as the lepidopterist led them across the street where a car was already waiting patiently for their arrival.

''Arry…that's—.' Grinning playfully in response to Excalibur's incredulous surprise at just what model of car was waiting for them, he couldn't contain the chuckle that threatened to spill from lips.

'A Bentley. The Flying Spur, V8. 2015 model, completed only a few months ago as part of Her Majesty's fleet.' He confirmed. 'Don't get me wrong, though. I simply adore Kingsman taxis, they make my dull life fun. I'm afraid that once a protocol code has been requested through the Royal Family, Merlin is obliged to send out one of these specialised models.'

'They were designed by a collaboration between MI6 and Kingsman, one of the few times they managed to work together without trying to kill each other. There's not much of a difference in what can be expected inside and outside, the specialized features are mostly the same for all bulletproof cars. With the exception of a few extra toys, I'm sure. Merlin will be more than willing to share with you if asked.'

'He always did adore naming his 'babies', this one especially since it's practically just off the production line.'

'Although, I haven't had the time to ask him about it yet…' Harry trailed off thoughtfully, briefly shaking his head to clear the swirling cobwebs that had gathered as he nodded his gratitude to the chauffeur stepping out from behind the wheel to open the door for them. Carefully guiding the young 'tailor' to take his seat, Harry made sure to keep the young man in his periphery at all times as he tried to make sense of the direction their simple pint in the city had taken.

He couldn't completely hide the smile that curled across his lips as he watched awed fingertips run across handstitched black leather with a moan of undisguised joy. Merlin had briefly told him about Eggsy's incredible driving and car-lighting skills in their meeting earlier, making great emphasis on how the twenty-four-year-old had driven through half of London backwards whilst outrunning a spectacular police car chase at the same time.

Now, if only he could learn to control his own unexpected responses to the young man—.

'To the Palace, please.' He pushed aside his thoughts. 'We're going to be late at this rate.' There was nothing more to be done here, after all. A clean-up crew had already been sent to their location and he still had an important meeting to attend. At least he had managed to have a lovely afternoon, he mused to himself. He wouldn't trade meeting Eggsy for the world, regardless of how it had ended.

Thank you so much for reading, I truly appreciate it.

I'll be working on an Alpha Harry x Alpha Eggsy piece to throw the normal A/B/O Dynamics into a twist for my next one-shot explicit story, hehe. Don't know how long it'll take to get out but I'm hoping to do so by the time next year rolls around soon.

Other than, I do hope this chapter was enjoyable. If you would be so kind as to leave me a little review I'd be eternally grateful to you, it would make my day.

Happy Holidays

Chocolate Carnival