"Can we go see the circus again?" Daisy asked, tugging on his hand as she finished off the last of her chips from their late lunch.
"Next time, Dais. We don't have enough time to enjoy it. Harry will be back soon, and we gotta get him to eat a proper dinner."
Thankfully Daisy found this an acceptable excuse - probably because of that 'again', seeing as they'd already been three days before. Eggsy hailed a cab to take them home. It was a bit busy and took some time, but one drew up to the curb after a bit. He was just about to climb in when someone interrupted him.
"Excuse me, would you mind terribly if we took this one?" asked the most sugary-sweet voice Eggsy had ever heard. It was so clearly fake that he was already smiling a bit when he turned. A very old man leaned on his cane by Eggsy's elbow, smiling in a gentlemanly manner even though if Eggsy had to guess, under normal circumstances butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "I'm afraid my shoulders aren't as good for hailing as they used to be."
"Sure thing, gov, it's all yours," he stepped back and held the door for him. Eggsy couldn't place it - there was just something he liked about the man. Daisy leaned forward too - and well, if his little sister liked him, he couldn't be bad at all.
"Thank you very much, young man," he said, then glanced over his shoulder "Guy, hurry up, I've solved your problems again."
"You've never once solved my problems, Tommy," replied an equally old voice, and a pile of boutique boxes with legs tottered over "Only ever made my life more complicated."
"Here, let me help with that," Eggsy took the top half before anyone could protest, earning a few quick thank yous. Once he was a few paces back and the person behind the boxes was revealed, he froze up mid step.
Peering around the edge of the boxes was Guy Bennett.
Guy Bennett was roughly one-hundred and five (roughly, because he was apparently born before they kept decent records of that sort of thing, or potentially started counting time). He was also a reclusive, lonely old informant to the Russians who'd turned aspiring physicist around the time most people did the sensible thing and died of old age. Thirty years after that, he'd put Eggsy in the infirmary with a bomb that was a resounding dud.
The day before he'd woken up in Scotland and come home to find Harry cooking him dinner.
Not a dud after all, was it?
While he was realizing all this, Guy didn't even have the grace to notice him. To be fair, he looked so smitten as he hobbled up to Tommy with a blinding grin that the whole of London could have probably vanished in a puff of smoke and he'd have been none the wiser.
"You love it," Tommy replied primly.
"Always," Bennett leaned over and kissed whoever it was with him on the cheek before swinging around to deposit his load of parcels in the trunk of the cab, which the cabbie had opened for them seeing that Eggsy was quite stuck.
"Oh come now, it's the twenty first century," Tommy muttered, and Eggsy realized it was at him.
"What?" he forced out, sounding a bit strangled.
"It's not so strange to see two men together, is it?" Tommy continued grumpily "I'm telling you, Guy, if communism-"
"See what communism got the Russian gays." Guy replied, still piling the boxes into the trunk of the cab "I, for one, haven't met a government worth its salt at enforcing equality."
"What?" Eggsy says again, then "Oh. No. I'm also - it's just that Mr. Bennet and I know each other."
Now Bennett looked at him, finally, and his happy little grin faded away. Tommy observed this, squinting at them both for a long moment, before frowning at them.
"Honestly, Guy, you told me you'd quit!" he cried eventually, thumping his cane against the ground.
"I have!" Guy insisted, turning back to Tommy in a rush "Look, he's just -"
"I'm his tailor," Eggsy offered, giving his best charming grin. He'd seen weirder things in the past few weeks than Guy Bennett, so he sauntered off to put the rest of their things in the cab.
While he was close, Bennett said quietly, so Tommy wouldn't hear "I'm afraid I don't know you, my boy-"
"Don't give me that shit. You know me." Eggsy looked at him hard, but shut the trunk before Bennett could say any more.
"Are you Harry's dad?" asked a little voice, and Eggsy promptly gave up their staring contest to locate his little sister. He found her looking timidly up at Tommy, her hands set on his cane curiously.
"Daisy, love, don't bother the nice man," he started back round the cab, but Tommy waved him off.
"She's alright. Who's Harry?"
"My-" he paused. He'd never had to put this to words. Tommy nodded before he had to try.
"Ah. No, dear, I'm afraid I don't know any Harry's."
"But you look like him."
Eggsy tilted his head and looked at Tommy again and - yeah, actually, if Harry were roughly a hundred years old, which this man probably was. He beamed and picked Daisy up, much to her chagrin.
"Hey, yeah! I knew there was somethin' I liked about you."
"Well, I'm terribly sorry we've stolen your cab, my boy, but we ought to get home," Guy said before any more on the matter was discussed. Tommy went from raising his eyebrows to glowering, and Eggsy had to wince for Guy. They would talk later, but he had to assume that look meant that nothing Eggsy would be saying would be quite as bad as the earful he was about to get in the cab.
"'Course, no worries. See you around Guy, nice meetin' you Tommy." Guy had the foresight to grimace, though it had more to do with Tommy's glare than anything Eggsy had said, he suspected.
He dropped Daisy off at his mum's new place, stayed and talked for a bit before heading home. She was doing alright for herself, here, and it was good to see. She sent him away with a tin of something vaguely cheesy for dinner - she'd never been a big cook, but she was still his mum, so there was a good chance he'd like it anyway while Harry would grin and bear it.
No sooner had he stepped through the door when a loud crash echoed through the house, followed by a much quieter curse.
"Harry? You alright love?"
He strode into the dining room, then on into the living room when Harry's cursing continued elsewhere. Eggsy eventually found him by a closet he'd never seen fit to open, frowning as he tried to gather up all the junk that surrounded him on the floor while J.B. trotted around, excited by the new things. Harry was already out of his suit and dressed in a cardigan and only mildly posh trousers. Harry had no right looking as good as he did in the outfit, but Eggsy had grown bias - Harry in armor was the kind of hot that had him rubbing one out in the barracks at twenty-four; Harry in comfortable, soft fabrics as he inhabited their shared house was the wet dream of his thirties.
"Eggsy, you're home," Harry said when Eggsy came closer, pushing himself to his feet "I didn't hear you come in." He pulled Eggsy into a kiss, one that was meant to be quick until Eggsy caught him about the waist and drew him in, parting his lips so he could taste whatever mildly healthy thing Merlin had forced on him for lunch that day and relishing it when Harry's hands came up to bracket his face, easily accepting Eggsy's affection.
Eggsy'd gotten better at this. Alright, he'd gotten damn good, actually, once he got past the paralytic shock of kissing Harry Hart and had applied his passion for greatness into learning exactly how Harry liked to be kissed. It still set his heart pounding, still left him a bit breathless and weak in the knees and sorely tempted to find out just what else he could puzzle out about Harry's body, but his bravery only extended so far. When he eventually drew back Harry nuzzled into his cheek before pulling away and casting a dubious look at the container in Eggsy's free hand.
"Probably because you was busy wreckin' the house." Eggsy said, taking up the neglected thread of their conversation and gesturing to the floor. "What is all this?"
"Yes, well. I heard you were taking care of Daisy, and since she's been into dolphins lately I thought I'd go looking for the stuffed one I picked up as a souvenir once."
Eggsy smiled "You're sweet, love. Maybe try not to kill yourself over it though, yeah?"
Harry scoffed "If I can handle small armies bare-handed, I think I can handle a closet full of odds and ends alright."
"If you say so. Tell you what, why don't I help you get all this back in there, and then we can eat dinner, and after that I'll help you look?" Harry gave the container in his hands another glance, his gaze following it as Eggsy set it aside "and if you really hate it, I won't even be upset if you order take-away."
"We have a deal." Harry agreed readily.
Cleaning up the closet wasn't that bad, but apparently the food was. As expected, Eggsy, having been indoctrinated to the wonders of five-star cuisine, recognized that it wasn't a masterpiece, but loved it anyway, and also as expected, Harry was having none of it.
"Order two days' worth," Eggsy suggested while Harry was on the phone with the Chinese place down the street "there's about a pound of cheese alone in this, and I won't be finishing it tonight."
"I certainly hope not," Harry agreed.
While they waited they returned to digging in the closets, all of which were apparently stacked like MacCaulay Culkin was planning to use them to defeat a group of burglars. Eventually the doorbell rang, and Harry shooed him off as he dug into a high shelf.
"Damn," Harry muttered as he went, and Eggsy had half a mind to turn back anyway.
"Didn't I tell you to wait?"
"It's nothing to worry about, darling. The record player's just decided to leap out at me."
"We have a record player? I've been living here for years and I had no idea-" he cut off abruptly when he turned to greet the person on their doorstep - who was certainly not the delivery boy.
"Eggsy!" suddenly Eggsy found himself with an armful of blonde agent.
"Roxy, Jesus fuck," he greeted. He was getting better at this too - the last few times he hadn't been able to speak. He had no context, but whatever - something had made this a hugging occasion, and he was more than happy to cling a bit. He'd missed this girl like a lost limb.
"Fuck, I hate deep cover missions. Did you hear that Galahad!?" the last she yelled into the house "I hate deep cover! I haven't had tea in three months!"
Harry came into the hall, and strangely he looked a touch pale. If something was bothering him, however, he didn't let it show beyond that.
"Noted, Lancelot. I'll make sure to only recommend you for deep cover missions in countries that appreciate tea."
Recommend? If Harry had that kind of power, Roxy being alive made a bit more sense. Harry wouldn't have stood for a delayed a rescue - and even if he hadn't managed to sway the counsel, Eggsy guessed he wouldn't have been alone when he flew off the handle and straight on to Bolivia to dig her out himself. He had yet to let go of Roxy and had half a mind not to for the rest of the night, though he suspected that would get a bit awkward.
"That's not what I meant and you know it." Roxy muttered, drawing away finally.
Now that he had a better vantage point he could see she was brown as a nut and her hair gone platinum from the sun of where ever she had been. He had a flash-flood of thoughts as he took in the way her smile seemed to stay on her face even as she pouted at Harry, the product of laugh lines starting to take root. They were both thirty already, he realized, blinking in confusion. When had that happened?
"Eggsy, don't make the poor woman stand on the doorstep all night. Didn't you hear what she said about tea?" Harry said, startling him out of his trance and into a laugh.
"Yeah, get in here. Harry has an entire shrine to tea."
"I know. Did you think I was here to see you?" she breezed by him grinning "And what's this I hear about a record player?"
"Well, I might have told you if you weren't just here for the tea."
"If you take some of his mother's latest creation, I'll even let you pick a song." Harry contradicted.
"Oi! That wasn't the deal."
"Saying you'll finish it in two days is very optimistic." Harry replied, "I'm only trying to save your digestive system."
"What's in it?" Roxy called from the kitchen.
"Cheese, that I can identify." Harry replied.
"Oh, god yes!"
Eggsy laughed "Where the fuck's she been?"
Harry, who'd been turning to go after her, paused to look at him. "You were briefed on the mission," he said slowly, and Eggsy's shoulders tensed.
"Right, 'course, I just meant it like-"
"Mexico," Harry interrupted, as if nothing strange had happened, and breezed away leaving Eggsy feeling wrong-footed. "Roxanne, would you perhaps like a plate?" Harry's voice floated back to him a moment later, all false pleasantry veiling a thick sarcasm.
"No," came her muffled reply.
Eggsy shook himself. He'd slipped up, but he did that sometimes and Harry usually rolled with it. It was fine. He strolled into the kitchen after them and smiled in spite of himself at the image they made, Harry sipping tea while Roxy tore into what remained of Eggsy's leftover dinner.
"Your mum is a god," she said appreciatively.
"If you finish that you're going to have to take some of Harry's Chinese too. He ordered enough for an army."
"I love you both. The only thing that could make this better is beer."
"Ask and ye shall receive," Eggsy grinned.
They all ended up in the living room, empty takeout containers scattered about and drinks in hand while the record player, set up as promised, spun out old music in the corner. Two boxes of old records (and, finally, a dusty, stuffed yellow dolphin) had been unearthed at length from the closet, many of which were now scattered about on the floor by the turntable.
It took no small amount of drink to get them tipsy, but they were managing it. Eggsy had trouble deciding who to look at most of the time - Harry, who smiled more as the drink went to his head and gave Eggsy some sort of affection-induced heart murmur, and Roxy, loud and boisterous and very much alive. Roxy was complaining about some smuggler or other who'd driven her nuts her entire mission, gesturing in agitation, when something shiny on her hand caught the light.
"Oi, Roxy, you forget to take that off?" Eggsy asked, pointing at her left hand where one solid gold ring gleamed above another with an inset diamond.
Roxy blinked at him, and neither of them noticed Harry pause in changing the record.
"What are you on about, Eggsy? It's my wedding ring."
Eggsy stared for a while, then smiled slowly. "'Course. This must be going to my head," he swished his Guinness around with more coordination than the statement implied.
"You were my best man," Roxy said incredulously "You and Harry fucked in the coat closet not ten minutes after Merlin and I said our vows!" Eggsy blinked and Harry caught the moment when Eggsy's eyes got a little bit wider and his mouth formed the first syllable of Merlin's name without sound. "There isn't enough spirit in the world to make you forget something like that. I would know." She shuddered and downed the last of her beer.
"God that's good!" she said, lowering the empty bottle, and perking up as a new song started "The Clash? Harry, you rebel!" she grinned "This song is great. We should dance!"
"In here? There's no room." Eggsy said.
Roxy gave him a look.
"Harry, incidentally, is everything in this room bolted to the floor?" she asked innocently.
"No, not as such." Harry replied.
"Then, Eggsy, I propose the radical notion that we fucking make room."
And that was how Eggsy ended up shoving all the living room furniture up against the walls with Roxy and Harry. The song was nearly over when they'd finished, even though the room was somewhat sparse, so Harry was obliged to restart it. (Both Roxy and Eggsy insisted they knew how to change and start the records, but staunchly refused to do so with the manner of very practiced bluffers. Harry suspected at least one of them did not, in fact, know how).
Because both Roxy and Eggsy were starting to feel the effects of their attempt at getting plastered, neither found it embarrassing to dance like fools in the living room while Harry, whom they at first failed to notice, look on in amusement. But then they did notice, (because they were very observant spies, Roxy insisted when Eggsy pointed it out, though really Eggsy had just been looking for him).
"Harry, dance with us!" He called, and Harry quickly shook his head.
"Oh, no, I can't dance."
"What?" Roxy cried "You're the one who taught us!"
Now there was an image that slowed Eggsy's terribly unflattering movements. Harry teaching him how to dance. Harry guiding him with a softer hand and more dark promise than Amelia the narc, who he'd learned from back in the hollow world.
"That was ballroom, it's quite a different thing," Harry was saying when he blinked back to reality.
"Harry," Roxy began, marching up to him "You got me sent to Mexico for three months, the least you can do is dance with me and your boy-toy for a few songs."
"Oi," Eggsy muttered, though he figured he'd have been annoyed by the majority of the significant-other-type names she could have chosen.
"Alright, alright, one song. And leave your phones on the table where I can see them - I don't need any evidence of this floating around."
Roxy cheered in triumph, and Eggsy was glad he was already expected to dance. His best friend was alive, he was pleasantly drunk, and the love of his life was making his way back over to the record player while Roxy crowed for The Rolling Stones, all while Harry complained that those songs were too long but picked one out anyway and J.B. ran excitedly around their feet.
And that was it, wasn't it, he thought. Harry was the love of his life. No one had ever compared to him - and how could they? Holding anyone to the standard Harry set was just unfair.
He felt a bit bad mooning over Harry on what was technically his first night seeing Roxy in two years, and his first confirmation that she was alive besides, but she was a good mate, and she was married so he figured she'd understand.
A thought struck him, the way thoughts did when one was drunk and had low inhibitions, and he looked between her left hand and Harry's nervous smile.
Married.
Wasn't that a concept.
Harry turned and caught him staring with whatever dumb look the train of thought had put on his face and stopped in mid-step. Roxy swanned by, already moving to the new song, temporarily oblivious to the atmosphere. As the song slowly picked up the way seventies rock did, Harry took him in, and then all at once the tension Eggsy hadn't even realized had been singing in him since Roxy got there bled away, and he smiled warmly back.
"Hey, lovebirds!" Roxy elbowed Eggsy in the side "I was promised terrible dancing for six minutes!"
Roxy got some impressively terrible dancing for nearly half an hour, as it turned out, as Eggsy did know how to change the records and would hardly let one song end before another was on, and he found it very unfortunate that Harry had made them give up their phones.
Eventually, between one record and the next, Roxy's phone buzzed off the coffee table and onto the rug, where J.B. immediately set about murdering it.
"J.B.!" Roxy shouted, running to its rescue just in time. She wiped the drool off it and squinted at the message "It's Merlin. I guess he did decide to go home after all. He's wondering where I am." Eggsy cooed at her and she made a rude gesture back "I should go home," she said, a touch wistfully.
Eggsy glanced at the clock and was surprised to find it nearing midnight.
"Yeah, 'course. Gotta keep your wizard happy," he smiled. Roxy and fuckin' Merlin. So much for not dating agents. He bit back a laugh - maybe he married her before they'd dated, just to nip the comments in the bud.
She shrugged on the blazer she'd lost at some point in the night and Eggsy made his way over to sweep her up in another hug. Somehow, the ache that had lessened over the years was more apparent as it went away. Maybe he'd just grown numb to it.
"Eggsy, are you secretly in love with me?" she asked when he took too long to let go.
"Sorry Rox, you're just not my type."
She laughed as he let her go "I know your type, that's a compliment."
"I beg your pardon?" Harry said, but he was smiling "Merlin and I aren't so different, you know. He's my best friend."
"You could not be more different. He's the least reckless person I know."
"You give him a rifle and bet him fifty quid he can't take out a hundred men with seventy bullets, then you come tell me who isn't reckless," Harry muttered, apparently from experience, and Eggsy made a mental note to ask while it seemed Roxy made one to forget she ever heard anything.
"Well, I'd best be off," she said, and Eggsy bid her goodbye and started back for the living room. Before she made it to the door, however, Harry caught her arm.
"Roxy, a word."
She followed him into the foyer, where he stopped and spoke low so Eggsy couldn't hear. "You mustn't tell anyone else about this," he said, quiet but fierce. Roxy's smile faded at his tone.
"Harry, your dancing isn't that bad-"
Harry shook his head with gravity "Not about tonight. I mean about Eggsy."
Roxy blinked, cocking her head "What about him?"
"When did you get back from you mission?"
"Just before I came over, Merlin gave me the night off to sleep before debriefing, but the git stayed at the office so I came here."
Harry nodded "He did so because in the morning he intends to tell you that Eggsy died last month in Scotland."
Roxy stiffened, her eyes darting back the way they'd come "What? Why would he do that? Eggsy's right there."
"Yes, and he shouldn't be." Harry's eyes were glittering, fierce and insistent.
"Harry, Merlin must know already -"
"He doesn't," Harry shook his head "Roxanne, as a favor to me. Please."
Roxy considered this, a plea to keep a secret from her husband, and found that something about the faint desperation Harry was burying under his authoritative posture compelled her to think that she might "Tell me why."
Harry glanced back now too. "Eggsy's waiting."
"He's my friend Harry. And you're asking me to fake grieving to my husband. Tell me."
"Because I'm not sure how long he'll be here." Harry snapped "He walked through this door ten days after we, after I, pulled his burned corpse out of the wreckage and hasn't said a damn word about it. He disappears, Roxy, though something forces me to sleep wherever I am before I can see it. He doesn't-" he swallowed hard, his voice losing some of its fervor "He doesn't know me. Not like he did. He was gone for a week but he acts like it was years. You must have noticed how he had no idea that you and Merlin were married."
Roxy was blinking at him, pale and worried now "Harry, we should go to Merlin. He'll be able to test -"
"We have tested him, Lancelot, though Merlin doesn't know it. Ask him, we found nothing at the blast site and nothing on any of the things I've brought in from Eggsy himself. Eggsy has no damn business being alive but there's nothing - "
"Harry! Why'd you hide Asia at the bottom?" Eggsy called.
His mouth clicked shut, and he looked imploringly at Roxy.
Roxy shifted on her feet, then said after such a long time that Harry had nearly started to fidget "Fine. But not forever, Harry."
"Fair enough," he nodded. Eventually Eggsy's existence would either come to light or cease all together, but so long as the latter was on the table as a possibility, he hoped neither would come to pass.
Roxy left looking far less buoyant than she had, letting a Kingsman cab drive itself to her home, and Harry returned to the living room to find Eggsy rummaging through the boxes of records on the floor still, acting as though he hadn't spent the night confirming Harry's fears that he knew nothing of a good portion of his life. He had half a mind to say it wasn't really him, but then the look - only Eggsy ever looked at him like he was the whole world that particular way. And so long as this was Eggsy, he'd take him in any form that was granted, whether amnesiac or something more sinister, or simply less familiar.
"I thought you wanted to listen to Asia?" Harry asked, finding no record was on the turntable.
"Thought better of it. All you have is Sole Survivor, you morbid fuck." Eggsy said, pulling something else from the dredges of the box.
"Not a fan?"
"Nah," Eggsy said, and turned away brandishing a much older disk with far less respect than it deserved "'sides, I found somethin' better. You've been holding out on us." Eggsy set the record spinning and the first few notes rang clear in the air. While he was there he shut off the lights, leaving Harry to squint at faint shadows while his vision adjusted.
Harry raised an eyebrow "Sinatra?"
"'S a good song." Eggsy shrugged, walking back and bowing dramatically "May I have this dance?"
Harry smiled in spite of himself. "That's not what I taught you," he took Eggsy's hand anyway.
"I guess it's a good thing you're giving me a refresher, then."
Their living room looked out the back of the house into a lovely square, and though the light of the city blotted out the stars, the streetlight outside was out in both worlds, and the moon was full and so bright that it cut through the yellow glow of London, illuminating the room in a soft, gentle white.
As Sinatra's velvet voice filled the living room Harry drew Eggsy close and lead him through a dance he was much better at. Eggsy followed him - well, perfectly, which was odd, since Eggsy usually misstepped, or flared out on purpose, never quite as used ballroom the way Harry wasn't used to freestyle. This time, Eggsy was calling his steps before he took them and using that easy knowledge to draw closer, tuck himself against Harry's chest until they were barely a breath apart.
"We've the devil's luck, darling." Harry murmured, only just then aware that he'd rested his forehead to Eggsy's.
A quick smile, gone in a flash, flickered over Eggsy's lips. Sinatra crooned for just a bit longer about love before the short song trailed off, and Harry paused but didn't draw away. Couldn't if he tried, probably.
Eggsy looked up at him, eyes dark even for the dim light "Harry," he said, low and full of promise "Take me to bed."
Harry's lips parted, but if he'd planned to say something, he forwent it to close the short distance left between them. Maybe Eggsy was still starving and desperate after a month of rationed time with Harry following five years without, maybe he was overconfident from the beer, maybe he was giddy with the prospect of finally doing something other than sleep in Harry's bed - whatever it was, something set him on fire with the kind of zeal that most religions had trouble inspiring. He surged up into the kiss, threading his fingers into Harry's hair and parting his lips to lick into Harry's open mouth. Harry made a soft noise in his throat and moved to grip Eggsy's shoulders, kissing back far too gently for Eggsy's taste. Eggsy pressed forward harder and backed him into the wall on the opposite side of the stairs.
Eggsy kissed him within an inch of his life, until both of their lips were red and swollen, his cock hard in his trousers and Harry's pressing into his thigh. He worked the buttons on Harry's cardigan open and shucked the thing to the floor, the buttons on the shirt underneath following quickly. His hands had just migrated to Harry's belt when Harry pressed him back, insistent.
"Bed, Eggsy," Harry said firmly, and Eggsy nodded, moving back just enough to let him turn the corner and start up the stairs. Eggsy didn't let go of his hand, trailing close behind until they were at the bedroom door, closed to keep J.B. out.
Eggsy'd had his fair fucking share of honeypot missions, and even if some part of his heart was trembling and nervous, he had enough experience and drive to keep his hands and voice steady when he pressed himself flush to Harry's back and pinned the hand he was holding to door above his head, making the older man gasp.
"If you'd rather not bother with the door," Eggsy breathed hotly into Harry's ear, sliding his other hand down to drag his palm over the hard line of Harry's cock "I wouldn't mind going to my knees right here and licking you open until you can't stand."
"My god, Eggsy," Harry moaned, and then there was the powerful agent all of a sudden, woken from the depths of whatever gentle calm Harry had been floating in until now. Eggsy blinked and found his back slammed against the still-shut door, Harry's hands holding his wrists above his head and lips savage against his own, one knee shoved between his legs making him moan. Harry didn't linger long, kissing and nipping down his jaw, then along the column of his neck. He freed a hand to pull off the quickest one-handed unbuttoning of a shirt Eggsy had ever seen, and Eggsy laughed incredulously until Harry's lips traveled down the newly exposed skin.
"Fuck," Eggsy thunked his head back against the door, arching into it, content to let Harry take him apart for a bit. He didn't disappoint. Harry kissed and sucked his way down Eggsy's chest, pausing to pay special attention to his nipples like he knew how much Eggsy liked it - fuck, maybe he did, that wasn't fair - to his hips just above his belt. He let Eggsy's hands go entirely and Eggsy's cock turned to iron when he realized what Harry was doing, sinking to his knees and drawing Eggsy's trousers and pants down as he went, belt already dealt with while Eggsy was reeling and distracted.
"Harry," he moaned, jerking when Harry's right hand encircled the base of his length, the other coming to rest on his thigh, holding him still as much as it was holding him up. Eggsy looked down at him and his fingernails curled uselessly into the door at what he saw: Harry, his hair disheveled and his eyes dark, his lips, already bitten-red and inviting, hovering close to Eggsy's cock. Harry seemed to have been waiting for him to look, because a second later he took Eggsy into his mouth without so much as a wink to warn him.
Eggsy's hands shot forward as he hunched to grab onto Harry's shoulders, a shout escaping his lips as Harry hollowed his cheeks and set a quick pace, slowing every so often to trace his tongue along the underside of his shaft and press it flat against the leaking head. Eggsy was panting and making embarrassing little noises in his throat in less than a minute, and then Harry suddenly took him deeper, pressing his nose to Eggsy's abdomen, seemingly unconcerned as Eggsy's cock bumped the back of his throat, and Eggsy had to bite hard on his cheek to keep from coming on the spot.
"Harry, Harry, fuck, wait," he whined even as Harry pulled back "you keep that up and this ends right here," he panted, and Harry drew off with a wicked smirk.
"You seemed fine with that plan not a few moments ago, darling."
Harry's voice was low and rough, and it undid him. Eggsy fisted both hands in his shirt and hauled him up into another brutal kiss that didn't slow when the door fell away from his back and they stumbled into the bedroom.
He didn't even make a conscious decision to do it, just followed the increasing borders of Harry's exposed skin as they shed the rest of their clothes until Harry was lying on the sheets and Eggsy was slicking his fingers with the lube Harry'd dug from the nightstand.
He paused, looking at Harry, who'd propped himself up on his elbows to watch him, and found Harry transfixed by his chest, specifically the wide red scar that started just to the left of his heart and curved downward to swoop under his ribs and onto his back. It'd almost killed him, that wound, but that was back when his world had still been in its death throes and he'd had a few things left to hold on for. He was actually covered in scars - same as Harry, he saw now, though maybe that should have worried him. Harry'd been an agent a couple decades longer, after all.
"Is this ok?" he asked, drawing Harry's attention back by pressing a slick finger between his cheeks. Harry shook himself and lay back against the pillows invitingly. "If you're sure you can last," he quipped.
Oh, as if Eggsy wouldn't last. Alright, so maybe it would be easy not to, but that had been a dare. Harry was in for the ride of his life now. Harry's little smirk faltered and interest flashed in his eyes, so Eggsy figured his resolve showed on his face.
He stalled any further conversation by sliding one finger in to the knuckle, relishing the way Harry's breath hitched, his legs edging wider invitingly. Eggsy went slow, both because it felt like a fucking religious experience working Harry open and because he wanted to drive him mad. Harry arched when Eggsy finally slid a third finger into his tight heat, over-slick with lube, one hand fisting on the pillowcase by his head.
"Enough, Eggsy, hurry up," he insisted, and Eggsy moved to hover over him, a sly grin spreading on his lips.
"Nah love, I'm just getting started."
He'd been purposely avoiding Harry's prostate, but now he twisted his fingers just so, pressing up and watched, enraptured, as Harry arched on a shocked cry. Fuck, he thought, maybe Harry had something with that shot about his stamina. God, he looked so good flushed and panting while Eggsy worked out a torturous rhythm against his prostate, fucking Harry to incoherence on his fingers. While he did he kissed and sucked marks across Harry's collarbone, down his chest, seeking out and assaulting any spot that got a sharper gasp or quiet moan.
It wasn't long before he had Harry writhing against him, begging with little fractured pleas that he only granted when they amounted to more, his belly shining with the copious amounts of precome leaking from his cock.
"Eggsy, for god's sake-" he managed eventually, his voice wrecked "please, fuck me."
Finally, Eggsy relented, because that sounded like a fucking stellar idea. He pulled his fingers out carefully and moved up to capture Harry's lips in a sloppy, needy kiss, drawing his legs wider and up as he settled between them. He fumbled with the lube again, slicking his cock, and figured Harry might actually kill him if he asked, so he lined himself up and pressed in. Harry threw his head back on the pillow, gasping and arching into him, and Eggsy had to close his eyes against the feeling of Harry taking him in, hot and tight and so fucking good.
"Ffffuck," Eggsy moaned when he was all the way in, and then can't seem to shut the hell up "you feel like a fuckin' dream, Harry, god, so good, you're so good for me, Har-"
Harry dragged him back down and didn't so much kiss him as bite him somewhat kindly, which what was left of Eggsy's brain read as an invitation to shut the hell up, though it returned not silence but the idea that Harry had liked it too much and he should say more at his earliest opportunity. Eventually Harry dropped back panting, his eyes almost black as he looked at Eggsy.
"Hurry," he implored, and Eggsy couldn't help but smirk.
"Worried you won't last?" he asked, though if he was being honest he was close.
"You little-" he started, and Eggsy leaned over so he could bracket Harry with his arms and rocked his hips, cutting off whatever he was going to call him. Harry's hands flew up to dig into his shoulders, then dragged down his back as he set a pace of deep, hard thrusts, eventually settling one in his hair and the other on his hip.
"Eggsy," he panted every so often into his ear, over the litany of filthy things Eggsy kept murmuring just for the way Harry's fingers would tighten when he said something he liked.
"Think you can come for me like this?" he asked, feeling his own orgasm building quickly "Just my cock and my fingers driving you to the brink, you'll look so gorgeous coming without me touching you at all," he dropped his hand anyway because he was almost afraid of what the sight might do to him and he really liked the idea of getting a hand on Harry's cock, but he kept talking even as he did, giving a few slow strokes "I'm going to make you come like that some time. Do what I offered in the hall, lick you open and then milk you with my fingers until you can't talk, and then I'll fuck you for hours, Harry, until I can watch you come undone from it-"
Harry came with a shout in his hand and Eggsy was gone a second later, shuddering on a final hard thrust, collapsing against Harry's chest when he was spent.
For a long while Eggsy drifted. Harry seemed content to do the same as their breathing slowed and their skin cooled just a bit.
"Shit." Harry managed eventually, sounding like he'd chewed gravel. Eggsy huffed against his chest. Damn right, he thought. Five goddamn years of honeypots didn't make a mediocre lover.
The earth seemed to come up to meet him at that thought, a splash of cold water against his comfortably warm body. He curled a bit closer, which was a feat since he had yet to so much as pull out.
"Eggsy?" Harry asked, letting one hand drift along his back "Are you alright?"
Eggsy sighed and looked up "I love you," he said fiercely, and at Harry's raised eyebrow he continued "I mean it, Harry. 'S not just because you're an A plus fuck, which you are, by the way. I really love you."
Harry sobered, stroking a hand through Eggsy's hair, and while it looked like he composed about a million responses in the long while he took to reply, eventually he settled on:
"I love you too, Eggsy."
Later, after they've cleaned up and Harry was tucked warm and solid at his back and he was almost asleep, could feel the twist of the world slipping from his fingers, he heard Harry whisper "Stay," in his ear.
Absently, honest in the space between sleep and waking, he murmured back "I always try, love."
For the first time, Eggsy smiled when he woke up back in his empty world. One thing about loving a spy was that it was nigh impossible to keep secrets, even if you were a spy yourself. Luckily, he had an entire world hidden away to stash them in.
But first, he had an old man to see.