Chapter Text
Eggsy kicks off his shoes at the door, and manages to wiggle out of his jacket and make it to the living room before falling face first onto the nearest piece of furniture, which fortunately is Harry's hideous sofa and not his hideous coffee table. Harry tsks and moves the shoes to where they belong in the shoe cupboard. "Really, Eggsy," he says.
"What is wrong with you?" he says into Harry's equally hideous embroidered cushions. "Why are you like this?" Harry strokes his hair on the way to the liquor cabinet, and Eggsy hears the chime of crystal and whiskey being poured.
Harry killed twelve ninja and injured at least as many more, spread amnesia darts lavishly around, and then tried to convince Lady Huggins -- again -- to shoot her husband, or at least let him 'help' her send him to his (Eggsy assumed) well-deserved end, while Merlin shrieked like an angry cat in their earpieces about making sure she had a business card for when she succeeded and needed a new job.
Then he had convinced the officers that the American should be investigated for causing a disruption ("well, he had, hadn't he, Eggsy, if Smith hadn't shown up we wouldn't be faced with all this nonsense, would we?") and escorted Eggsy out with a hand about an inch away from an indecency charge on Eggsy's lower back.
He'd been very pleased with himself.
Also it had turned out that the glasses Merlin had lent Eggsy were prototypes because Merlin was fucking around with lasers in them, so that was a year off Eggsy's life he'll never get back. The lasers had activated just when he was turning around to yell at Harry and it was only due to their combined reflexes and Harry's demon luck that Harry was at home instead of being fitted for a bionic dick to match his bionic eye.
There's a double click in his ear and Merlin says, "Did you turn on your bloody security system, Harry?"
"Yes, Mummy," says Harry.
"That's me off then," says Merlin. "Good night, Eggsy, congratulations on surviving Harry for another day."
Eggsy lifts two meaningful fingers to where Harry can see them and his glasses can transmit it to Merlin.
"Good night, Merlin, thank you for your assistance," says Harry.
"Go to hell," replies Merlin, and clicks off. Eggsy fumbles his glasses off and sets them down on the bowl on the coffee table Harry uses to collect clutter.
Harry chuckles. He comes back over and Eggsy, grumbling, lifts himself up enough to let Harry sit on the end of the sofa. He puts his head on Harry's thighs and nuzzles into the warmth of Harry's lap. Harry's lap is a much better pillow than his shitty embroidered cushions. His thighs are not nearly as soft, but the wool of Harry's suit is smooth against Eggsy's cheek and smells deliciously of Harry's cologne besides. Harry puts his hand on Eggsy's hair and smooths it carefully, like Eggsy is a cat. Eggsy lets out a long, long sigh.
After a while he says, "What about Rodhaven? What was his problem?"
"Do you know," says Harry meditatively, "I don't believe I know for sure."
Eggsy had last seen Rodhaven complaining to his wife that he could have helped. His wife calmly but firmly replied, as he led her toward an SUV full of what appeared to be supermodels in black Armani suits with shoulder holsters and mirrored sunglasses, "We've discussed this before, and we all agreed that if you keep on making so many messes at your reunions, you simply won't be able to go to them any more."
Rodhaven pouted.
Eggsy just hoped they never saw the blighter again.
Now, though, he's willing to lie here and let Harry pet him for a while, too lazy to even raise himself up enough to steal a drink of Harry's whiskey. He doesn't really like whiskey, not any more, but it's nice to drink from the same glass as Harry.
"What was up with Lady Huggins?" says Eggsy, after a while.
"Hmm?" says Harry. "Oh, yes, Chloe. Katherine was Huggle's first wife. Lovely person. Much too good for him, but I understand her family needed money."
"Jesus," says Eggsy. "So what happened?"
"The usual," says Harry. "He traded for a younger, stupider model. Kitty ended up with no money and a child to support."
"Chloe?" says Eggsy.
"No, the child died in an accident, I believe," says Harry. "An actual automobile accident. I did look into it. After that Kitty got her degree and went to teach at a girl's school. She must have met Chloe there."
Eggsy turns his head toward Harry and blinks at him. "Were they --" he begins.
Harry smooths his hand over Eggsy's jaw. He shakes his head. "Kitty is a very honorable person," he says. "A real lady. Chloe admires her very much, I think."
"So why would she try to poison Huggins for her?" says Eggsy.
"You of all people should know that," chides Harry. He sweeps his thumb over Eggsy's mouth, affectionate, possessive. "After what you did to Arthur for me."
Eggsy is silent. Harry continues to stroke his long, warm fingers over Eggsy's face and hair until Eggsy turns his head to catch his fingers in a kiss. Harry presses his fingers against Eggsy's mouth until Eggsy parts his lips to let him slide them in, not sucking on them, exactly, just feeling the weight of Harry's fingers against his inner lip. Then he shifts, moving off Harry's lap and sitting up enough to swing his leg over Harry's lap and settle in, face to face. Harry's undone his tie and Eggsy pulls it off and tosses it carelessly aside. Harry takes a drink of his whiskey and kisses Eggsy so he can taste the smoky bite of the whiskey on his mouth. Harry sets the glass down (on a coaster, without looking, because Harry is unbelievable) and slides his big hands around Eggsy's waist and into Eggsy's hair.
Eggsy leans back into Harry's grip of his waist and head, breaking the kiss long enough to unbutton Harry's shirt and his own. They're still wearing undershirts, but Eggsy can see more of Harry like this, slide his hand under Harry's A-frame and feel the solid muscles of Harry's core. He leans forward again and kisses Harry, open-mouthed and dirty, the way Harry likes it, and Harry slides his hand from Eggsy's waist to his arse, helping himself to a generous feel.
"I'd do a fucking lot for you," he admits against Harry's mouth.
"And I you," says Harry. He kisses Eggsy in a way that might be sweet if not for the way his hands roam over Eggsy's body, pushing his shirt up over his braces and sliding under his undershirt. Eggsy slides both hands into Harry's hair and tilts his neck up so Harry can bite Eggsy's neck, short stings followed by Harry pressing his mouth against them as if he can taste the blood rising up in his skin.
"Ah," says Eggsy, letting Harry scrape his teeth against his jawbone. "Oh, Harry, oh." It's not coherent but it seems to please Harry, who makes a low, savagely pleased sound in his throat, and bites hard. Eggsy's hand flexes involuntarily on Harry's scalp, pulling hard, and Harry laughs, looking up at Eggsy through his dark lashes. "Christ," says Eggsy involuntarily. "Christ, Harry, you fucking --"
"Darling boy," says Harry, pressing kisses on Eggsy's wrist. "You gorgeous creature, delicious thing, you --"
Eggsy has to close his eyes and grind down hard on Harry. He's not feeling tired any more. He wants to ruin Harry again and again until there's nothing left of his facade as a gentleman. He wants to leave marks all over him, so everybody knows that Harry is his. He wants everything and he knows Harry wants everything too, from the way he's arching up as Eggsy grinds down, his arms holding Eggsy exactly where he wants him. "Harry, Harry," says Eggsy, bending down enough to catch Harry in a filthy kiss, "Harry, take me to bed, please, I want you, Harry --"
Harry doesn't respond in words, but his arms tighten around Eggsy and Eggsy wraps his legs and arms around him as Harry lifts him with shocking ease up and carries him up the stairs like Eggsy weighs hardly anything at all. Eggsy is too busy trying to kiss him to be much help but he manages to fumble the door of the bedroom open and let himself fall easily onto the bed.
"You beautiful thing," says Harry, eyes black and wild. "You know how much I love you. Don't you? Dearest, dearest, darling--"
"Yes, Harry," says Eggsy, lifting his hips up so Harry can half-tear off his braces and pull down his trousers and pants all at once. "I know, I know."
Harry stops long enough to take a deep breath in. "You awful boy," he says, his voice still graveled and deep. Eggsy almost purrs at the compliment. "Making me rush like that. I wanted to take my time with you."
"I want it now," complains Eggsy, as Harry shows every evidence of going the opposite way and killing Eggsy through the wait while he slowly strips Eggsy's clothes off of his body and lavishes every inch he uncovers with kisses. "You promised, you did --"
Harry smirks at him and Eggsy takes matters into his own hands, pulling Harry onto the bed and straddling him, ripping the buttons off Harry's shirt sleeves with an absolute lack of concern for what Harry will say in the morning, pushing until Harry's shirt is back from his shoulders and his undershirt is around his collar bone and Eggsy's greedy thief hands are all over Harry's pectorals, plucking at his nipples and making Harry hiss like a cat. Eggsy slides his hands down, unbuttons Harry's flies and pushes down his pants, freeing his cock. It springs out and Eggsy licks his lips. Every breath Eggsy takes is dragged in like he's on top of a mountain, like he's been running for miles. Harry is flushed nearly to his navel and Eggsy rakes his blunt fingernails down Harry's abdomen, reveling in the red marks he leaves. They won't fade for hours -- maybe until tomorrow. If Eggsy has his way they won't fade, not never, and Harry will always know who he belongs to.
He takes Harry's cock in one hand and pumps for a minute, enjoying the slick slide, thinking about sucking it until his throat is too raw to speak straight tomorrow, how Harry's face will go all hot and intent every time he hears Eggsy's rough voice. But really he wants it in him more, so much he thinks he's going to die of it, so he reaches over to the nightstand for the lube. Harry balances him as he reaches so he doesn't fall over, and after Eggsy straightens again he takes the chance to squeeze Eggsy's arse, drag his thumbs over the sharp bones of Eggsy's hips.
Eggsy smears lube generously over his fingers and reaches back to get himself ready, helped -- or not -- by Harry getting the fingers of one hand mixed in with Eggsy's, while the other hand strokes Eggsy's dick and slides up to grope and squeeze at Eggsy's chest, pinching his nipple with vicious sweetness. He's running his mouth, too, calling Eggsy sweet and delicious and a wretched little tart. Eggsy doesn't know if he's going to make it long enough to have Harry in him but he doesn't care. He'd take Harry right now if he thought Harry'd let him get away with it.
Harry squeezes his arse, hard, when Eggsy tries to push his luck and get Harry in him before Harry thinks he's ready. "None of that now, my dear," he says, his words crisp and posh, even as his voice is all thick and rough. He shoves Eggsy's hand rudely away and slides his long fingers up, searching for Eggsy's prostate and finding it within a few seconds.
Eggsy maybe whites out, he doesn't know for sure. His throat is raw and he can't stop making punched-out noises. Even more than that, Harry looks so smugly pleased with himself that Eggsy knows he must look like a right tart, and in revenge he squeezes down on Harry's fingers so Harry hisses out a breath and pulls out his fingers. Eggsy moves fast before Harry can roll him over or pin him down or otherwise be a fucking posh cocktease, grasps Harry's cock and slides down on it like he owns it. He has to stop for a moment, breathe deep, before he can start moving again, slow and careful. He sighs out a long breath. It feels --
"That's nice," says Harry. He sounds drunk. His hands are restless on Eggsy's body, like he wants to claim every inch for himself, over and over again. "That's -- very nice, darling, you feel so good."
"Mmm," says Eggsy, and starts grinding his arse on Harry's delicious cock, really fucking himself on it, enjoying every centimeter sliding into him. "Ahhhh, Harry, Harry --"
Eggsy loses track of time, just aware of Harry's hands on his body and Harry's thick cock in his arse and the way Harry keeps trying to kiss him and not doing anything but catching Eggsy's mouth with his and breathing into it. Oh, Eggsy thinks, oh, oh, and he doesn't know if he says it out loud or not, but Harry pulls him tight, says, "Darling, darling boy, my dear, my dear --" and Eggsy is gone.
When he surfaces again Harry's rolled them over and is sliding in and out, luxuriously slow, and Eggsy wraps his arms around him and says, "Come on, Harry, come on, please ---" and Harry comes.
Eggsy is barely aware when Harry pulls out, just enough to make a complaining noise when Harry leaves the bed, and quiet down when Harry kisses his forehead and his mouth. He drifts, not quite awake, until Harry comes back with the wash cloth, and only surfaces enough to turn when Harry coaxes him.
"Thank you, darling," says Harry.
Eggsy rouses enough to make an inquiring noise, and Harry kisses his nose, which is ridiculous and makes Eggsy's chest feel two sizes too small for his heart.
"For coming with me," says Harry.
"Anything," says Eggsy.
Harry laughs a little, like he's said something funny but Eggsy was serious - serious as anything. He says,"I hope I never have to take you up on that, dearest."
Harry's mad as a hatter, and Eggsy still isn't sure why he took up with him, but --
It's alright, though, innit?
Eggsy loves him.