Chapter Text
Harold “Harry” Hart disliked many things. He disliked cheap fabric, obnoxious music, criminals, poor manners, hairless cats, and the holidays, especially Christmas.
Some people might call the alpha a Scrooge because of his distaste for the most wonderful time of the year, but that’s not an entirely accurate depiction. Although he has a tendency to roll his eyes at most Christmas traditions, unlike Scrooge, he was an incredibly generous and compassionate man.
It’s just that the holidays have never been particularly kind to Harry. When he was a boy, most Christmases were spent watching his parents drink themselves into a stupor while they argued and attempted to make up for being absentee parents with thoughtless gifts. When he was a younger man, his fiancé broke off their two-year engagement on Christmas Eve in front of all their friends and family, as it was revealed the omega had been sleeping around with her boss behind Harry’s back. And during his first year on the job as an officer, a group of men disguised as Father Christmas robbed a bank and an innocent civilian was killed.
Not to mention there was generally a significant increase in crime around the holidays, which made his job as a Chief Superintendent all the more difficult; and downright exhausting.
Seriously, it wasn't even December yet and already Harry had apprehended more than a dozen shoplifters, scam artists, and many others who had definitely secured themselves a spot on the naughty list.
“What time is it, please, Hamish?” Harry asked his closest friend and colleague, Hamish “Merlin” Mycroft, rather grumpily.
“It's only ten past the last time ye asked,” the Scotsman grumbled, breathing heavily into his leather gloves in an attempt to keep warm.
The pair of middle-aged alphas strolled along Knightsbridge’s busy retail district, posing as civilians enjoying some light holiday shopping. There had been a soaring number of pickpocketing cases in the upscale area as of late, and the police were determined to catch the thief (or thieves) as soon as possible.
So far, all of the victims had been alphas from affluent backgrounds, and since Harry and Merlin fit that description to a T, they now had the misfortune of freezing their arses off whilst working undercover to catch whomever was responsible for the crimes.
“Seven hells, it's cold! I’m getting a tea. Fancy a cuppa?” Merlin asked, nodding towards a busy tea house.
“Please. Two creams and—
“One sugar. Aye, I know.”
“Thank you, dearest,” Harry jested.
Merlin handed him his phoney shopping bags and then crossed the street in hot pursuit of caffeine.
Harry relaxed up against one of the tall buildings and pretended to scroll through his mobile, as he continued to discreetly patrol the area. So far nothing and no one had seemed out of place, which he was equally relieved and disappointed about.
All of the store fronts had been festively and tastefully decorated for the upcoming holiday season, and people were dashing madly about, shuffling around their bags upon bags filled with expensive gifts.
A group of carol singers dressed in Victorian garb, was gathered on the corner, and they seemed wholly determined to put shoppers in the holiday spirit by belting out one classic tune after another, much to Harry’s chagrin.
Harry silently pleaded with whatever powers may be for Merlin to return quickly before he was forced to endure all twelve verses of an overly-cheerful ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.’
"Don’t be ridiculous. A partridge in a pear tree is a highly impracticable gift," Harry inwardly scoffed at the irritating song lyric.
“Um... S’cuse me?”
Harry well-nigh jumped out of his skin at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and dropped two of his bags on the pavement; he was just thankful that Merlin wasn't there to witness it, or else the Scotsman would never let him live it down.
After collecting his belongings, and mentally berating himself for reacting like a bloody idiot, he turned back around and was fully prepared to give the individual a severe tongue-lashing for invading his space.
But all of his anger quickly subsided the moment that he came face to face with the most beautiful omega he had ever seen.
The young man was stunning. He was well-fit with sparkling-cerulean blue eyes, golden hair that glistened like the sun, and a sweet, but cheeky smile. He had a slightly muscular build about him and curves in all the right places. He even smelled incredible -like a delightful mix of amber honey, warm apples, and cinnamon, which was rare for an omega.
It took Harry a solid minute and a half before he realised that he hadn’t responded and was simply standing there, gaping down at the younger man, with his mouth bobbing open and close like a bloody codfish.
“Y-yes?” he finally stuttered, before he managed to compose himself. “How may I help you, dear boy?”
“M’ real sorry to bother you,” the omega replied, smiling shyly. “I’m kinda lost. You see, I was supposed to get off at King’s Cross, but I got off at the wrong station and ended up here, wherever this is? And my stupid mobile’s dead and now I’m freaking out ‘cause it’s starting to get late, and I don’t know where I am, or how to get back and… Oi! M’ sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. Do you think maybe you could help me out?”
“Of course,” Harry smiled warmly. "And you are in luck, as I happen to know this area quite well.”
“Really? Oh thank you, alpha!”
Ever the bloody peacock, Harry’s inner-wolf preened itself at being addressed with such a dignified show of respect; and it made him all the more determined to help the lost soul.
“It’s my pleasure. Now, the easiest way to get to King’s Cross from here, is to take a cab," Harry started to explain, but stopped talking when the younger man's scent turned sour, indicating that he was upset.
“Um. I don’t got any money,” he admitted, clearly embarrassed. “But if you give me directions I can find my way on foot.”
The omega tried to appear confident, but Harry saw through his façade. The alpha knew that even the locals had difficultly navigating the busy district at times, and the idea of the young man making the long trek on foot, dressed in such light-weight attire, was simply unthinkable.
“Nonsense. What kind of alpha would I be if I allowed you to wander alone in the city in this cold? I shall call you a cab and you needn’t worry about the expense, I will gladly take care of it.”
“No way! I can’t let you do that. It’s too much.”
“I insist. Call it, an early Christmas present, if you will.”
“But… you don’t even know me?”
“Then let’s fix that, shall we?” The officer smiled and held out his hand. “Chief Superintendent Hart, at your service. But please, call me Harry.”
A look of surprise flashed across the omega's face before he grinned widely up at the older man, shaking his proffered hand.
“Chief Superintendent, huh? Funny. I wouldn’t have pegged you’s for a fed.”
“No? Pray tell, what would you have gauged me for, then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe like… a tailor or something?” The young man shrugged his shoulders and gestured towards Harry’s fashionable attire.
“Hmm. I suppose that means I'm rather good at my job then, does it not?”
“Ahh. So, is you like uncover or something?”
“Sorry, young man. Classified.”
The omega whistled, clearly impressed. All of the attention made Harry feel cooler than James Bond, and he had to pinch himself to keep from grinning like a bloody fool.
It didn't take long for Harry to hail a black cab, as drivers tended to stop more readily for customers dressed as poshly as he was. The car pulled up alongside the kerb and the alpha handed the driver a wad of folded cash and politely instructed him to take the omega ‘wherever he needed to go.’ Then he opened the cab door and smiled softly at the omega, gallantly gesturing for him to climb inside.
It all felt very romantic, like a scene out of a classic black and white film.
“How can I ever thank you, Harry?” the omega asked sweetly, jutting his jaw forward.
“No thanks necessary, young man. It was a pleasure to be of service.”
Harry offered him his hand once more to bid him a fond farewell, but the omega pulled him into a friendly hug instead, much to his surprise, and delight.
“You’re aces, Harry. You know that?” the young man breathed into the warmth of the alpha’s thick and broad chest.
“It’s only a cab, my dear boy,” Harry chuckled, his chin resting on the younger man’s head, relishing each second of their close embrace. “As I said, I'm merely glad that I could be of service. I only wish I could do more.”
“Oh, you’ve given me more than you could possibly know,” the omega cheekily winked before he hopped inside the idling vehicle.
Harry stared longingly after the cab until it disappeared from view, basking in the omega’s lingering scent on his coat. He inwardly vowed to never wash it again.
“What the bloody hell are ye smiling about?” Merlin demanded, snapping Harry out of his reverie.
“Oh, I simply saved the day while you were gone, is all,” Harry replied smugly, gratefully accepting a paper cup filled with piping hot tea.
The Scotsman had a lot of questions regarding the unacquainted omega’s scent on Harry’s clothes, but he decided to postpone the interrogation until after their shift. They were already behind schedule as it was, and still had a lot of turf to cover.
---- ----
“Ye didn’t get his name OR his number? That’s a rookie mistake, Harry!” Merlin chastised him, sipping his amber ale in their usual corner booth of the local pub.
“I fail to see what good it would have done. He was half my age, Hamish. There is simply no way that a beautiful young man like him would ever be interested in an old and greying man like me.” Harry sipped his Guinness glumly.
“Och! Don’t give me any of that ‘old man’ bullshit. Age is only a number. I’ve seen ye take down a dozen men all at once, armed with nothing more than a brolly,” Merlin smiled at the memory. “Any omega would be lucky to have ye for an alpha.”
“Well, thank you, Hamish. That’s very kind. But I'm afraid it’s too late. He was not from the area and the likelihood of us ever meeting again is like, catching a Marsh Fritillary on a warm summer’s night,” he said wistfully.
“I’m gonna assume that’s your butterfly-talk and nae ask ye to elaborate. But, I suppose yer right,” Merlin agreed, downing the rest of his drink. “Christ, is it really that late already?” he huffed, checking his wrist watch. “Roxy will have my head if I’m nae home by midnight this time.”
Harry checked the time on his pocket watch and sighed dejectedly. He was in no rush to return home to his empty house nestled in Stanhope Mews, but he knew that Merlin needed to get home to his wife and appalling excuse for a cat. Cats should have fur, damn it!
“Yes, I suppose it’s getting rather late,” Harry agreed, picking up the cheque. “And I do believe it’s my turn?”
“I do believe yer right,” Merlin smirked and then stood up to stretch out his back.
Harry also rose to his feet and reached inside of his coat pocket, then frowned.
“Hmm. That is odd.”
“Alright, Harry?”
“I cannot find my wallet.”
“Och! I’m not falling for that one again. I paid for drinks the last two times.”
“I'm being serious, Hamish. It’s not here,” Harry groused, frantically searching through all of his pockets, and even shaking out his clothes. “I know I had it earlier.”
“Let’s retrace yer steps, aye? When was the last time ye used it?”
“I had it this morning when I dropped off my dry cleaning. And again when I purchased lunch. And the very last time that I took it out was when I paid for the omega’s cab.”
“And yer certain ye didn't drop it anywhere?”
“Positive. I distinctly remember placing it back in my coat pocket.”
“And ye dinnae come into close contact with anyone? Accidentally bump into someone, perhaps?”
“No, the only person that I interacted closely with today, besides you, was the omega and—“ Harry gasped, and then growled angrily, as he suddenly recalled the omega’s ‘friendly’ hug—“THAT LITTLE SHIT!”
Yup. Harry Hart LOATHED the holidays entirely.
Chapter Text
*Trigger Warning: Mentions of past child abuse, past character deaths and past overdose. Mentions of unwanted advances and sexism.
Gary “Eggsy” Unwin disliked many things. He disliked crowded spaces, cigarette smoke, sexist pigs, banks, snobby elitists, and the holidays, especially Christmas.
It’s not like he was a Grinch or anything, it’s just that the holidays had never been particularly kind to him. When he was six-years old, his dad was killed on the job less than a week before Christmas. A year later, the uncaring bank foreclosed on their home, and he and his mum had to move into the council estates. His mum eventually remarried and her new alpha was every bit as viscous as he was cruel. The man abused and humiliated Eggsy on a daily basis, and his mum simply stood back and watched it all unfold until she overdosed on Boxing Day when he was fourteen.
Eggsy was given the chance to turn his life around when he received a full-scholarship to one of the most prestigious culinary schools in all of London, but then everything went tits up when he wound-up pregnant at the start of his final year. His boyfriend (the father of his child) publicly broke up with him on Christmas Eve, in the middle of a crowded restaurant, abandoning any and all responsibility for their impending pup. And as his pregnancy progressed, he ended up missing far too many classes to be able to keep up and was consequently stripped of his scholarship and forced to drop out.
And since becoming a single parent, the holidays had turned into the most stressful and dreaded time of the year. He could hardly afford to make ends meet year-round as it was, so the added burden of having to make Christmas magical for his young, impressionable son was simply more than he could bear.
“M’ home!” Eggsy announced, as he walked through the door of his petite studio flat, smiling at the sound of little feet tottering in his direction.
“Momma!” A three-year old alpha with bright blue eyes squealed and lunged himself at him.
“Hiya, Ollie! Mmm! I missed my baby.”
“Missed you too, momma.”
“Were you a good boy for Uncle Brandon?”
“Oi! He was a perfect angel, like always,” Brandon chimed in from the kitchen where he was taking a pot of steaming hot ramen off the burner.
“Me and Uncle Brandon cooked supper.”
“You did? I can’t wait to eat. Bet it’s delicious!” Eggsy replied enthusiastically.
The child smiled proudly and then ran off to their shared bedroom area that was concealed behind a lopsided hanging curtain.
“How’d it go, mate?” Brandon asked, grabbing three mismatched bowls out of the cupboard.
“They said I ain’t got enough experience,” Eggsy shrugged sadly, hanging up his second-hand sport coat and toeing off a pair of snug-fit brogues that he had snagged from a local charity shop.
He decided not to tell Brandon that the hiring manager was a sexist prick, whom had spent the entire interview hitting on him instead of discussing the job or his skill set, or that he ended up having to knee the creep in the balls so he could escape the man’s office.
“But you’ve been working in a kitchen for the last three-years. And you’ve even been to culinary school!” the beta scoffed.
“Yeah, but I’m just a dishwasher, and my schooling don’t mean nothing ‘cause I ain’t got a fancy degree to show for it.”
“That’s a load of rubbish, that is.”
“Eh. It is what it is,” Eggsy lamented. He was used to the rejection by now.
“So, what’s your next move gonna be?”
“The only thing I can do is keep working my arse off and hope that something better will come along.”
Brandon looked at him pityingly, knowing full-well that it was a fruitless endeavour.
Although omegas had been granted certain rights over the years, many employers still openly discriminated against omega applicants, not wanting to hire them for jobs that were traditionally held by alphas and betas, as society still perpetuated the long-held, and sexist, belief that omegas belonged strictly in the home, raising the pups.
So life was extremely difficult for an omega like Eggsy, a pleb from the estates with no alpha, no family, and no steady source of income, or promising career aspects to get by. And being a single parent brought about even more challenges.
Had the world been a different place, one with equal opportunities for all, or had Eggsy been born with a silver spoon up his arse, he would do just as well, if not better.
“S’cuse me, momma?” the child politely interrupted, tugging on Eggsy’s leg.
“Yes, my love?”
“You can mail this, please?” Ollie held up a small envelope with red and green crayon scribbled all over it.
“What’s this, then?” Eggsy smiled, bending down to his son’s level.
“A letter for Father Christmas,” the toddler replied shyly, rocking on the balls of his feet. “I asked him to bring me a present ‘cause… ‘cause I’ve been a good boy.”
Eggsy had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. Between his current job at the pub cutting back his hours, and him being behind on rent and utilities (among other bills), he didn’t know how he was going to make the holidays special for Ollie.
Sensing his mother’s distress, Ollie whimpered sympathetically and wrapped his arms around the omega’s neck.
“Don’t be sad, momma. Father Christmas will bringed presents for me AND you.”
“Oh, my love,” Eggsy cooed into the boy’s short feathery light-brown hair. “You’re the sweetest little boy in the whole wide world. You know that? I’ll make sure this letter gets to Lapland, and that Father Christmas knows you’ve been real good this year.”
“Thank you, momma,” the toddler sniffled quietly.
Eggsy pocketed the envelope, and then the three of them tucked into their humble meal.
---- ----
“Thanks again for watching Olls,” Eggsy said, as he walked Brandon to the door.
“No worries, bruv. You know I love that little man,” his long-time friend replied before he looked over to where Ollie was playing with a bunch of old second-hand stuffies. “Um. I didn’t wanna say nothing in front of the pup, but your landlord stopped by earlier.” Eggsy’s eyes widened. “And I know it’s none of my business, but he said you’re nearly three months behind on rent?”
Eggsy’s face turned beet red and he looked down at his feet. “Yeah, money’s been tight, but I’m working on it.”
“Well, me and Jamal can help, you know? The garage has been doing real good and we got some extra cash flow at the ‘mo.”
“Nah, I appreciate it, but I can’t take your guys’ money.”
“We’re worried about you, mate,” Brandon said sincerely.
“Don’t be. I’ve got it all sorted. I um… gotta little side hustle going at the ‘mo and the money’s been pretty good, so I’ll be able to catch up in no time.”
“Yeah? What kind of side hustle?”
“Oh…eh, helping another pub with doing inventory and stuff. It’s nothing special, but I figured it’d look good on my CV.” The lie tasted like vinegar in Eggsy’s mouth, but he couldn’t have his best mates worrying about him.
Like Eggsy, Brandon and Jamal also grew up in the council estates, and it’s taken the two young men years of blood, sweat, and tears to get their garage business up and running. And he’ll be damned before he accepts any of their hard-earned money.
Brandon looked at him skeptically, but didn’t ask any more questions, much to Eggsy’s relief.
“Alright. But you’ll come to us if you need help, yeah?”
“I will, swear down. Now you get home safe and give my love to Jamal.”
“I will. Love you, Eggs.”
“Love you too, Bran.”
Brandon waited for Eggsy to do all the locks on the door before he walked to his car.
Eggsy turned back around and sighed, feeling disheartened as he glanced around the dingy flat. He thanked his lucky stars that he was able to pick a few pockets during his outing earlier, or else he’d be up shit’s creek right about now.
The omega knows it’s not an honest way to make a living, but playing by the rules hasn’t exactly gotten him very far, either.
He’d been on twenty-seven interviews in the last two months and all of them had turned out to be dead ends. It seemed as though there wasn’t a single restaurant, pub, or chippy in all of London that was willing to hire an omega from the estates to cook in their kitchen, even though he was an incredibly talented chef, and people from all over the world unknowingly cooked with his recipes every day.
Fortunately, though, Eggsy had other skills besides his culinary talents that he could fall back on.
He had perfected the art of the five-finger discount at a young age, as it was always up to him to make sure he was clothed and fed while growing up. And part of the reason why he was so good at it was because of his secondary gender. No one ever suspected a ‘sweet little omega’ could be capable of committing such crimes, and he'd learned to use what others perceived as a weakness to his advantage.
He would never steal from the weak or the poor, though. He took only from wealthy alpha snobs, which is why he committed his crimes in Knightsbridge’s lush retail district. In his opinion, those posh pricks could afford to spare some change, and part with their overly-expensive jewellery and other flimsy accessories. One of the wrist watches he had nicked from some knob-headed alpha a few weeks back had cost more than an entire month’s rent on his crummy flat, and pawning it off had helped to keep their electricity from being cut, again.
The financial disparities between the different classes was outrageously unjust, in his opinion, and he was simply levelling the playing field. He didnt feel guilty about it at all. Well, not until he stole from Chief Superintendent, Harry Hart, that is.
Harry may have been a wealthy alpha, but he was far from snobbish. In fact, he had behaved like a perfect gentleman.
Eggsy had used his ‘I’m a poor lost omega’ bit a dozen times before, and Harry was the only alpha who had ever helped him without expecting or demanding anything from him in return.
It was also the first time Eggsy had been attracted to one of his marks.
He couldn’t help it, really. The older man was quite handsome, and he smelled like heaven -like a mix of old books, vanilla, and expensive scotch. Eggsy had relished in his scent during their seemingly friendly little hug earlier, and it had helped him erase all of his pent-up anger from his failed job interview.
Harry was the type of alpha that the omega used to dream about settling down with one day, respectable and kind.
But alas, Eggsy knew that was just another one of his dreams that would never come true. ”An alpha like Harry Hart would never want a used-up omega chav like me,” he thought dejectedly to himself.
---- ----
Later that night, after Ollie was asleep, Eggsy tallied up his stolen cash and then sorted through his pile of overdue bills. Thanks to his most recent haul, he could afford to catch up on some rent and make a payment towards the heating bill. He could even afford to splurge on some decent groceries for the week, which was a huge bonus, as Ollie’s appetite had suddenly increased, thanks to a recent growth spurt.
He carefully disposed of his collection of stolen wallets from his latest victims, but found himself struggling to part with Harry’s.
It was difficult to explain, but the idea of tossing it genuinely upset his inner-wolf, and it was howling out at him to tuck the wallet away for safe keeping.
He turned the black-leather billfold over in his hands, admiring its quality, and trailing a finger across the stitching of Harry’s name engraved in the front-right corner.
He smiled, remembering the warmth and tenderness of the older man’s chocolate-brown eyes, before placing the wallet in a shoebox filled with small mementos from throughout his young life.
And that night, Eggsy fell asleep feeling a tad bit safer than he had in a very long time.
Chapter Text
“Any leads on the Knightsbridge pickpocketing case?” Chief Constable, Percival Knight, asked. He was stood over Harry’s and Merlin’s partners-style desk, sipping out of a ‘World’s Greatest Boss’ mug.
“Nothing yet,” Harry lied, narrowing his eyes at Merlin, whom mumbled something unintelligible into his morning cuppa.
“Well, keep me posted. I would like to wrap this one up quickly, if at all possible. We do not want people to be wary of doing their holiday shopping in that area. There are far too many businesses that rely on the holiday sales.”
“Yes, sir,” Harry avowed.
Percival turned to leave, but then stopped short in the doorway and turned back around with gusto.
“Oh, and speaking of the holidays," he said, “I hope the both of you have RSVP’d for the station’s annual Christmas party?”
“Of course. We are both looking forward to it. Isn’t that right, Merlin?” Harry smiled satirically at the Scotsman.
“Aye. Ecstatic,” Merlin deadpanned.
“It will be fun, gentlemen. Dagonet is bringing his karaoke machine, Bedivere is making his famous holiday punch, and the Golden Circle is catering.”
It was a well-known fact that Officer Dagonet couldn’t carry a tune to save his life, and that Officer Bedivere’s so-called punch was responsible for making even the most uptight and professional bobbies behave like drunken sailors, and that the Golden Circle was run by a bunch of potheads who could hardly make a decent burger.
”Sounds like a splendid time,” Harry replied glumly.
“Alright, Scrooge and Marley,” Percival snorted before taking another swig of coffee, not the slightest bit convinced by their phoney enthusiasm. “I won’t keep trying to convince you. Just show up and look merry about it,” he waived his hand dismissively. “And be sure to notify me the minute you have a lead on the case. Good day, gentleman.”
“Good day, sir.” The alphas replied.
“What the hell is wrong with ye, Harry?” Merlin growled at him the second Percival closed their office door behind him.
“I know you dread going every year, Hamish, but it is good for morale. Besides, we can always load up on Bedivere’s punch early and spend the entire evening blacked out, again.”
“I’m nae talking about the party, ye git. And ye KNOW I swore to never touch that bloody drink ever again. It took months to get that drunken tattoo removed from my arse,” he cringed at the memory. “Nae, I’m talking about ye lying to our boss about the pickpocketing case. It’s been nearly a week now. When are ye gonna tell him about what happened?”
“Never.”
“Harry, ye c—
“Hamish, if Percival or any of the other officers find out that I was swindled by an omega, I will be the laughing stock of Scotland Yard. I will be forced into early retirement, and then I will have to take up a ridiculous hobby to fill my sad, lonely days. I suppose I could always take up knitting. I am rather skilled with a needle and thread. And I'm sure that Roxanne and Mr. Denver would appreciate a set of new jumpers.”
“First of all, yer not knitting anything for my wife OR my cat. Second, don’t ye think you’re being a wee bit over-dramatic?”
“I beg your pardon? I'm never over-dramatic. Besides, your cat needs something on his body besides all that skin. He looks like a shaved rat,” Harry shuddered.
“He’s a Sphynx, Harry. They’re nae supposed to have fur!”
“He is an abomination.”
“Anyways,” Merlin groaned. “If yer nae gonna tell Percival what happened, what are ye planning to do, then?”
“I do not know, but I will think of something. In the meantime, please do not say anything. I implore you.”
Merlin breathed a heavy sigh, then begrudgingly nodded in agreement. “Ye owe me, Harry. Big time.”
Harry shot him a sultry wink and managed to duck out of the way just in time to avoid being hit in the face with the heavy notepad the Scotsman had thrown at him in annoyance.
---- ----
“I'm off to get the food,” Harry announced, buttoning up his coat and wrapping a soft cashmere scarf around his neck.
Merlin was on the phone and gave him a quick thumbs up.
The two officers generally ordered takeaway from a little place called ‘Tilde’s Café’ whenever they worked out of their office. Tilde was a loyal patron of the station, and her humble establishment made the best Cornish pasties in all of London.
The walk to the café was relatively short, but still long enough for Harry’s coat to accumulate a light dusting of snow along the way.
He brushed himself off upon his arrival, and relished in the smell of hot food that immediately greeted him from the moment he stepped foot inside.
The cafe was garishly decked-out for the holidays with twinkling lights, paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, and silver and gold metallic garland wrapped around every available surface. Jazzy Christmas music poured out from the overhead speakers, and Harry instinctively bristled at the overly-enthusiastic sound.
“Afternoon, Harry!” A pretty, blonde beta with a Swedish accent greeted him with a kind smile. “How are you today?”
“Very well, thank you, Tilde. And you?”
“Business has been completely crazy, so I can’t complain.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Your food will be ready in ten. I apologise for the wait. We’re a little understaffed at the moment, with Sophie being out on leave.”
“Oh, did her omega have the baby?” Harry asked excitedly.
“Yup. A little girl named ‘Lady.’ She’s an adorable thing, too.”
“That is joyous news. Please pass along my congratulations.”
“I will. Would you like a cuppa while you wait?” she asked him, wiping down the takeout counter.
“Oh, no, thank you. Would it be alright if I sit, though?”
“Of course! Please sit anywhere you’d like.”
Harry unbuttoned his coat and made himself comfortable on one of the high bar stools along the tall counter. He causally glanced around the small space, noting how it was packed with all different kinds of patrons, ranging from sweet elderly couples conversing with their hands intertwined, to chatty groups of omegas catching up on the latest gossip, to busy work professionals enjoying the solace of their lunch break.
After twenty-plus years of working in law enforcement, he had developed a habit of surveying his surroundings everywhere he went.
And it was a bloody good thing he had…
Tucked into a booth located in the far back corner of the café was none other than the beautiful, pickpocketing omega, who had nicked his wallet, and bruised his ego.
Harry couldn’t believe his fucking luck.
The young man was dressed exactly the same as the day they had met, too. His thread-born jacket did little to provide him with warmth, and he kept trying to thaw out his hands by rubbing them up and down his thighs.
”Thick thighs,” his inner-wolf eagerly supplied, and the alpha had to choke back a possessive growl before he drew unwanted attention.
He found himself wondering whether the omega owned a proper winter coat, before he regained his senses and then shook his head to clear away such thoughts.
”The boy was a criminal,” he reminded himself.
Harry could tell that the young man was concentrating rather hard on filling out the double-sided sheet of paper laid out on the table in front of him, and from what the older man could deduce from across the room, it was a job application.
”Well, that's wildly convenient,” he thought to himself, inwardly praising the powers that be.
Hamish was never going to believe this.
The officer remained seated, as he continued to observe from a distance. He watched as the younger man hastily scribbled down one final thought before he was joined at the table by Tilde and a brute-of-an-alpha wearing an oil-soaked apron, whom Harry had to assume was one of the cafe’s cooks.
The woman glanced over the completed application, while the cook asked the omega short questions, impassive and clearly bored with the entire situation, as he kept waving his large greasy hands around in the air, interrupting the omega whenever he spoke.
Harry wasn’t able to hear their conversation, but it was obvious from the pained look on the omega's face that the interview wasn’t moving in his favour.
But as dejected as the young man was, he still managed to feign a polite smile, before he shook Tilde’s hand and thanked her for her time, whilst pointedly ignoring the rude cook.
The omega was none the wiser to the officer’s presence, as he passed him by on his way out of the cafe, clearly on the brink of tears.
It would have been all-too easy for Harry to reach out and apprehend him right then and there, but doing so would have caused a scene, and a little voice inside him said the poor thing looked beaten down enough for one day, so he made the quick decision to let him go.
Besides, Harry now had other means to learn more about the intriguing little thief.
“Pardon me, Tilde?” Harry called out to her. “I'm terribly sorry to intrude, but might I have a copy of that young man’s CV? It’s for official business.”
Chapter Text
*Trigger Warning: unwanted advances
“Gary D. Unwin. Twenty-three years old, aspiring cook, and currently resides north of the borough,” Harry proudly exclaimed, dropping the CV on Merlin’s desk with a satisfied grin.
“Who and what now?” Merlin asked, examining the document closely.
“Our pickpocketing omega. He was interviewing for a line cook position at the café when I was picking up the food.”
“And ye didn’t arrest him, WHY?”
“Because. When we bring him in, I want to be absolutely certain that we have enough to hold him on. Apprehending him based solely on reasonable suspicions all but guarantees an immediate release, and then we will be right back at square one.”
“Do ye think the lad's doing more than just picking pockets?”
“I'm not certain, but there is definitely more to him than meets the eye, I can tell you that much.”
“I take it we'll be tailing the lad, then?”
“Absolutely,” Harry confirmed.
“Spectacular,” Merlin groaned. “Ye best hand me my lunch, then. I'm gonna need my strength to deal with all this.”
“Is tailing an omega too much for you to handle, Hamish?” Harry taunted, handing him a takeaway container. “And you call me old.”
“Ye are old, ye old goat.”
“Need I remind you, I'm seven months younger than you. And we are middle-aged, which is not exactly ancient.
Merlin snorted, completely ignoring the logic in those facts. “Nae, tailing the omega will nae be a problem for me, but I'm concerned about ye,” he pointed his fork at Harry accusingly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“The lad humiliated ye and stole from ye, and yet yer eyes still get this ‘glazed look’ every time ye talk about him. It's enough to make anyone ill.”
“My eyes do not get a gl—
“Aye, they do. I only hope that when the time comes, ye will be able to set aside yer feelings and do whatever's necessary.”
“There will not be any problems. I can assure you.”
---- ----
Harry and Merlin took turns tailing Gary Unwin over the next few days, but it hadn't led to anything.
The omega hadn't returned to the Knightsbridge area, or behaved in any way suspicious, or unlawful. In fact, he’d only left his flat a few times and that was to walk to and from his dishwashing job at some scummy pub called the Black Prince. And the only people seen coming and going from his flat were a pair of betas named Brandon Boom and Jamal Fox. The two young men had some minor altercations on their records, but were clean for the most part, and they also owned a flourishing small business, which led the officers to believe that the omega was working alone.
“Hart speaking,” Harry tiredly answered his mobile.
“The Black Prince checks out. No thefts have been reported since the lad started working there three years ago, and his performance reviews have been satisfactory. The only red marks in his file are for frequent absences.”
“Bugger.”
Merlin sighed. “How long do ye want to keep this up, Harry?”
“We both know that he is our culprit, Hamish. He stole my wallet and there hasn’t been any similar crimes reported in that area since he has been absent from it.”
“Aye, I agree. But he’s not giving us anything that we can work with. Perhaps he's called it quits?”
“Or he is busy planning something else,” Harry rebutted. He removed his tortoiseshell glasses and placed them on the dash of his unmarked vehicle, taking a short break from surveying the omega’s rundown flat. “Let's watch him for a few days more. If we still have not uncovered anything by week’s end then we will regroup.”
“Verra good.”
Harry repocketed his mobile and turned his attention back to the omega's flat.
"What are you hiding, omega?" he wondered to himself.
---- ----
It was three days later, on a cold and wet Friday morning, when Gary Unwin finally changed up his mundane routine.
Instead of heading to work, where, thanks to Merlin's sources, the officers knew he was scheduled to be, the young man high-tailed it to the busy upscale area of Knightsbridge.
"Check mate," Harry silently declared, following after him.
---- ----
Harry kept his distance as he followed the suspect, making himself inconspicuous under a large black brolly.
His adrenaline was pumping, as the omega unknowingly led him down one busy street to the next, until they eventually came to a halt. It wasn’t until they finally stopped walking, and the familiar sound of carollers caught his attention, that Harry realised they had returned to the exact same location where he had his wallet nicked the weeks before.
Looking around, he then noticed that there were no CCTV cameras pointed in their direction, and that the spot was just out of earshot of any passerby. All the omega had to do was cast his little web and wait until an unsuspecting victim got caught up in it.
It was impressive, really. And Harry had to hand it to the omega, it was the perfect set up. He only hated that he himself had fallen for it.
The older man pretended to peruse some of the window displays while he waited for the omega to strike.
It wasn’t terribly busy, as most people were already at work by that hour, but there were still gaggles of tourists walking around in a daze, and the usual mix of posh residents milling about, enjoying the freedom of not having to work a day job.
Harry watched as the omega carefully surveyed each person who passed him by, clearly waiting for the right victims to come along. Then once he identified an easy target, he would ‘accidentally’ bump into them and offer up a polite apology, all the while sneaking their belongings from out of their pockets or purse.
Not a single soul suspected that something was amiss. And why would they? Omegas weren’t known for being trouble makers. Gary Unwin easily blended in with the crowds, despite his thread-born attire, which was exactly what the omega wanted, and it made him the perfect criminal.
Harry tried to gauge whether the omega was satisfied with his recent haul, but it was difficult to a ascertain, as the young man seemed torn between staying put and bolting. Harry had seen enough, though, and thought now might be the opportune time to apprehend him, but then the omega looked down the pavement and grinned mischievously.
A twenty-something, upper crust alpha, entirely absorbed in his mobile was headed right in their direction.
Harry stood off to the side and leaned up against the nearest building and then waited, frowning when the omega started to put on an all-too familiar performance.
Oh, and was Gary Unwin good.
The younger man was so convincing with his whole ‘I’m a poor lost omega' act that Harry thought he should pursue a career in acting instead of washing dishes and leading a life of crime.
The only difference about this particular scenario, though, was that his latest victim was behaving like… Well, quite frankly, a pig.
It was clear from the younger alpha's body language that he was relishing in the omega's plight, and that he lacked any sense of decorum, as he kept invading the omega’s personal space. Had the circumstances been different, Harry would have made it a point to teach the repugnant alpha a lesson in some manners.
Manners maketh man, after all.
He continued to watch as the scene unfolded in front of him, cringing at the younger alpha’s foolish attempts at flirting, whilst discreetly recording the entire scene on his mobile.
After much back and forth, the younger alpha eventually handed over a few quid and the omega was visibly pleased. Harry assumed that would be the end of it, but then things took an abrupt turn.
The younger alpha suddenly cupped the omega’s face in his hands and ran his thumb over the sacred and unmarked scent gland there; an action that was wholly inappropriate and simply unconscionable.
Harry was appalled by the ungentlemanly behaviour, but the omega made it abundantly clear that he had the situation under control.
The young man pushed the offending alpha’s hands away and then delivered a well-deserved, and well-aimed, kick to the other man’s groin, making him howl out in pain.
And if Harry hadn’t been paying such close attention, then he would have missed it. During the scuffle, the omega had managed to dig his hands into the alpha’s deep coat pocket and nick his wallet, phone, and keys, as swiftly as a magic trick.
Finally, after days of around the clock surveillance, the officer had concrete evidence to apprehend his suspect.
He text Merlin a copy of the recording, to which the Scotsman immediately responded with three smiling face with devil horns emojis, and then he pulled out his handcuffs. But when the officer looked back up, finally ready to make his move, the omega was nowhere to be found.
---- ----
“There you go, love. Is that better?” Eggsy asked Ollie, spooning some grape-flavoured medicine into the toddler’s mouth, placing another cold cloth on his warm forehead.
“Yes, momma,” Ollie replied hoarsely.
The little one had taken ill with a terrible cold and Eggsy was worried out of his mind. He desperately needed to buy him medicine, but he’d already spent all of his money on trying to catch up on rent and bills; and he wouldn’t get his next paycheque for another week.
He knew that another trip to the Knightsbridge area was unavoidable until his financial situation changed, but having to return so soon and during the work day left him with yet another dilemma -he didn't have anyone who could watch Ollie.
And when Ollie had woken up earlier that morning, looking and sounding much worse than the day before, Eggsy knew that he had no choice but to leave his sick child home alone so that he could make the trek to the posh retail district.
And that had made him feel like the absolute worst parent in the entire world.
Society already looked down on omegas as it was, but single omega parents had it ten times worse. There were tons of laws regulating their parental rights, and all it would take is for him to get into trouble with the law ONCE, regardless of the severity of the offense, and he could potentially lose custody of his pup.
He had a terrible pit in his stomach the entire time that he was out, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being followed. But he chalked up his paranoia to feeling guilty about the whole ordeal, and focussed on getting it over and done with as quickly as possible so that he could return his attention to nursing his little one back to health.
---- ----
The child had woken up later in the afternoon feeling somewhat better, but complaining to his mother about a ‘rumbling tummy.’
”I can have an ice lolly, please, momma?”
”You can have another lolly after you’ve had something to eat first. How about some nice warm soup, hmm?”
”Ok, momma,” the child coughed.
”My poor little man.” Eggsy propped the toddler’s head up on some pillows and turned on the telly, putting on a children’s DVD that he nicked from the local library. “Be right back.”
---- ----
Eggsy was busy heating up some canned chicken noodle soup on the stove and tidying up his kitchenette area when suddenly there was a knock at the door.
The omega frowned and a million different scenarios began playing through his head.
He carefully undid all the locks, mentally preparing himself for having to deal with either his landlord or another debt collector, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he opened the door. Or rather, whom.
“Hello again.”
“H-Harry?”
Chapter Text
“W-what are you doing here?” Eggsy asked nervously.
“I'm here on official business,” Harry replied sternly, flashing his badge. “Please step outside.”
Eggsy looked worriedly over his shoulder, then defiantly back up at Harry. “M’ good where I am, thanks.”
“I was rather hoping we could do this civilly,” Harry groused, but then he squared his shoulders and spoke determinedly. “Mr. Gary Unwin, you are under arrest on suspicion of grand larceny. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if y—
“Momma?” Ollie called out, staggering into view. The child froze in fear at the sight of the unfamiliar alpha standing in their doorway, and wrapped himself protectively around his mother's leg. “You no hurt my momma!”
“Shhh, baby. It's alright,” Eggsy said soothingly, though his voice was riddled with dread.
“Y-you have a child?” Harry stammered.
The alpha felt utterly ridiculous for asking such an obvious question, but he was so completely thrown by the revelation that he simply didn't know what else to say.
The omega’s scent was going haywire and Harry knew that it was only a matter of time before other alphas in the area caught wind of an unbonded omega in distress if he continued to stand out in the open.
“Perhaps we could speak inside?” Harry proposed.
“Why? So you can arrest me in front of my kid?”
“I'm no longer going to arr—“ he growled in frustration. “It would be best to discuss things inside, please?” he pressed more urgently.
Eggsy eyed the officer suspiciously, but eventually relented. He picked up his child and allowed the older man to enter his flat.
“Let me just get this one sorted. I don't want him hearing none of this. Um... sit wherever you’d like.”
Eggsy carried the whimpering child behind a doorway curtain and increased the volume on the telly playing in the background.
Harry removed his hat and sat on one of the rusted folding chairs at the makeshift kitchen table and looked around the flat. It was small but tidy, and it was obvious that the omega tried his best to make it a comfortable home despite the fact that it had stained wallpaper, dingy wall-to-wall carpeting, and exposed pipework. He smiled sadly upon noticing the little play area with a small collection of well-used toys piled up in the corner of the combined sitting room and kitchenette, and the child's drawing of a Christmas tree that was taped up on the cracked walls.
“Can I get you a cuppa or something?” Eggsy asked upon his return, nervously fidgeting with the hem of his navy-striped jumper.
“No, thank you. Gary, we sh—
“Eggsy.”
“Pardon?”
“M’ name's Eggsy. Nobody calls me Gary,” he wrinkled his nose in disgust.
“Very well, then, Eggsy. “As I was trying to say a moment ago, I'm not going to arrest you.”
“You're not?” Eggsy breathed a huge sigh of relief and had to hold onto the counter for support.
Harry managed to catch him before he hit the floor and gracefully manoeuvred him into an empty chair. He then poured them both a glass of water and waited a few minutes before he continued.
“No, I'm not,” Harry affirmed. “I would like to make you an offer instead.”
“What kind of offer?”
“Well, I know you’re responsible for the recent rise in pickpocketing cases in the Knightsbridge retail district. And that you stole my wallet the day we met. I had nearly £900 on me that day. And according to my investigation, I would say that you've stolen roughly £7,000 over the last few weeks.”
“Shit. Harry, M’ real sorry. Really, I am. But if you want me to give the money back I don’t have it no more. I used it all on bills and some groceries, and on some medicine for my kid today. I didn’t spend it on nothing bad, though, swear down!"
“Please, allow me to finish. I understand that you do not have the financial means to repay what you stole, but I simply cannot let you off scot-free either. That is why I'm willing to allow you to make amends by earning back the money instead.”
“Earning back the money?” the omega repeated with a disgusted snarl, which surprised Harry. “I ain’t letting you bend me over if that’s what you’re fucking suggesting!”
Harry’s eyes widened in shock and he choked on his water, spilling some down the front of his uniform. He'd never heard an omega use such vulgar language before and he was taken aback, and also very intrigued.
“Good heavens, no! That is not—I'm offering you a legitimate job opportunity.”
The omega narrowed his eyes and rested back against the chair with his arms folded over his chest. “What kind of job, then?”
“I’m offering you the opportunity to become a private chef.”
“For who?”
“For me, actually. It’s my understanding that you are an aspiring cook and it so happens that I'm absolute rubbish in the kitchen. I would gladly welcome a break from having to order takeaway and eating frozen pizzas all the time. Once you have worked off the money you have stolen from me, I will then donate the rest that you earn back to a local charity.”
The omega's scent spiked, excited about the offer, but his face was still masked with disinclination.
“You sure you really want someone like me cooking for you?”
“Absolutely.”
"In your home and shit?"
"And shit. Interested?"
Eggsy eyed-him carefully. “Why are you doing this for me, Harry? I mean, I stole from you. You came here to arrest me, but instead you're offering me a job? It's a bit much, innit?”
“Because I see before me a young man with potential. A young man who is loyal,” he darted a sideways glance at the toddler peeking out from behind a curtain. “Who can do as he is asked, and who wants to do something good with his life.”
Eggsy bit his lip and tried to very hard keep his burning tears at bay, but a few drops still managed to escape.
“Interested?”
“You think I’ve got anything to lose?” Eggsy smirked, and they shook on it to seal the deal.
---- ----
“Ye did WHAT?”
Harry held his mobile away from his ear until the Scotsman finished yelling and cursing at him in Gaelic.
“I offered him a job. He is going to work off the money that he stole, and he swore to me that he will never steal again.”
“Oh good, he promised. Well, that’s all good, then. I feel much better about the sit—HAVE YE LOST YER DAMN MIND?”
“He was only stealing to survive, Hamish. To provide for his child. You know very well what would have happened to his pup had I arrested him.”
After a few moments of intense silence, Merlin reluctantly agreed.
”Aye, but what are we supposed to tell Percival? We still need to account for all of the resources and hours we spent surveilling the lad.”
“We will simply tell him that nothing came of it. It was a dead end. And since Eggsy has pr—
“Eggsy?”
“It’s the omega's nickname. He never goes by Gary,” Harry explained rather simply. “And since Eggsy has promised to stop stealing, there will not be any more cases to solve and Percival will call it a wrap. I know it’s somewhat dishonest, but I am donating a large sum of money to charity, so I believe that balances out the karma.”
“I dinnae think that's quite how it works, Harry, but I willnae fight ye on it. I’m simply glad to put an end to the whole charade.”
“Thank you, Hamish. You are a great partner and an even greater friend.”
“Aye, that I am. And I expect one hell of a Christmas gift this year.”
“You can count on it,” Harry chuckled lightly, and made a mental note to visit Merlin's favourite whisky distillery before the holiday.
A loud purring noise could be heard on Merlin's end of the line and Harry started growling lowly.
“Aww, do ye want to say hello to yer Uncle Harry?” Merlin cooed.
“I'm NOT that thing’s uncle. Or anyone's uncle for that matter.”
“Ah, he's such a lovely pet, Harry. And far better behaved than that destructive little shit ye used to own.”
“Mr. Pickles was a delightful companion and even my stuffed dog is a more appealing pet than that atrocity you call a cat.”
“Och! Dinnae pay him any mind, Mr. Denver. Yer Uncle Harry’s simply frustrated ‘cause he's fallen head over heels for a pretty omega,” Merlin snickered.
“Good night and fuck you both,” Harry retorted, in a mock-polite tone before disconnecting the call.
"Hanging up on someone using a mobile device just wasn’t as satisfying as it used to be," he lamented.
---- ----
After Harry polished off his third martini of the evening, he pulled out the list of groceries he asked Eggsy to prepare for him earlier, and began shopping an online market.
He added all the items to the cart without a second thought or care about cost, opting for the most expensive option of each. And if he ordered one too many bottles of wine and chocolate biscuits for his personal stash, blame it on the alcohol.
He was genuinely thrilled about Eggsy coming to work for him. And not just because he was going to get well-cooked meals out of the deal, but because this was going to be an excellent opportunity for the omega to turn his young life around.
The only thing that he was slightly apprehensive about regarding the whole deal was entertaining a toddler. He didn't have very much experience with small children and his house wasn't exactly ‘child friendly.’ Hell, he didn't even think that children liked him all that much. But still, he wanted to make sure that Oliver felt welcomed and at ease in his home.
After he finished ordering the groceries, he perused a local toy shop’s website and ordered a handful of puzzles and children's books, as an act of good will.
As he settled into bed later that night, he felt particularly pleased with himself, and was looking forward to Eggsy's first day.
Chapter Text
“Ah, welcome! Do come in,” Harry warmly greeted the omega with a bright and cheery smile. He then leaned forward with his hands rested on his knees and addressed the toddler directly. “It’s lovely to see you are feeling better, Oliver.”
Ollie had been wary of the older alpha when he first showed up at their flat and made his momma cry. So, it took some convincing on Eggsy's part to get him on board with the whole ‘cooking for Harry’ plan.
Obviously, the toddler was too young to understand how or why the plan came to be, but he was exceptionally intuitive and adept at understanding when something was important to his mother, and so he was cooperating for Eggsy's sake.
“Can you say ‘hi’ to Mr. Hart, love?” Eggsy encouraged him.
“Oh, you may call me Harry, young man.”
“Hi, Mr. Harry,” the child replied timidly, hugging Eggsy's leg, as he looked around the entryway. “Your house is pretty.”
“Thank you, Oliver,” Harry chuckled. “That is very kind of you to say.” He hung the toddler's bulky winter jacket on the mounted coat rack, as Eggsy worked to untie the laces on the boy's worn-out boots. “I hope the ride here was not too difficult? Traffic can be unpredictable at this time of day.”
“Nah, it wa—
“Me and momma walked!”
“It ain’t polite to interrupt people when they're talking, love,” Eggsy lightly reprimanded.
“Sorry, momma.”
“You walked? All this way?”
“Nothing we ain't used to,” Eggsy shrugged, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Besides, s’good exercise and this one enjoys piggy-back rides, yeah?” He tickled Ollie’s sides, making the child laugh softly.
Eggsy had on an all-too thin grey and black bomber jacket and a pair of winged trainers that had seen better days, as they were ripping at the soles and exposed his feet to the damp slush that covered the city’s pavements. His face was visibly rosy and his hands were trembling, even though the omega tried to hide it. As much as the older alpha wanted to say something, he made no further comment on the matter, as to avoid making the omega feel more embarrassed than he already was, but he made a mental note to do something about it later.
“Well, how about a quick tour and then some hot chocolate to warm up with, hmm?” Harry proposed, placing his guests’ wet shoes on the shoe tray.
“Is okay with, momma?” Ollie asked hopefully.
“Yes, baby. But after Harry shows us around first.”
The child clapped his hands in glee, then dutifully followed the grownups around the two-story townhouse, mindful not to touch anything.
---- ----
“This is my office and where I spend the majority of my time when I'm home,” Harry casually explained, showing his guests the moderate-sized space with red painted walls that were plastered with peculiar newspaper clippings. “Sometimes I may have to take my evening meals in here. I only ask that you knock before entering, as my work tends to be highly confidential.” Eggsy nodded in understanding. “Now, the loo is located to your left, and this room here is the guest room,” Harry pointed out, before guiding them towards the stairway.
“Mr. Harry? Why you have lots of pictures of bugs?” Ollie asked, curiously inspecting the many framed butterfly displays hanging over the staircase.
“Olls!” Eggsy exclaimed horrified, and tried hard to keep a straight face. But truth be told, he was wondering the same thing.
“It’s quite alright,” Harry assured him, not the slightest bit offended. “It’s a hobby of mine. I very much wanted to be a lepidopterologist when I was growing up.”
“What's that?” Eggsy and Ollie asked in unison, scrunching up their noses and tilting their heads to one side.
Their reaction reminded Harry of his old pet terrier whenever the animal heard a squeaky toy, and it was all he could do not to laugh at the similarity.
“It’s someone who studies butterflies.”
”Huh. I didn’t know that was a thing. That’s pretty neat, Harry.”
”I thought so too, but my parents were less than thrilled with my original career choice and pushed me to study law instead. ’No alpha son of mine is going to be a bloody butterfly doctor,’ is what my father used to say.”
Eggsy hummed knowingly. “M’ guessing your folks was the sort that’s real big on upholding traditional societal views, yeah?”
”Oh, yes. And that is why I make it a point to avoid them at all costs. I take it you have experience in that regard?”
”My stepdad was a sexist prick. He hated having an omega for a stepson, especially one as mouthy as me. He was real happy when I left for uni and didnt have to support me no more, not that he ever really did. Bet your dad was real happy when you traded chasing after butterflies for chasing after bad guys instead,” the omega joked, and Harry let out an amused laugh.
”I never thought of it that way before. And no, he positively detests my public servant-level job, which makes me love it all the more.”
Harry showed them some of his favourite pieces from his butterfly collection, relishing in the opportunity to discuss his hobby and share his knowledge, and all too happy to answer their many questions.
”Momma, we can get some butterfly books when we go to the libary again?”
“It’s ‘library,’ love, and sure.”
“Oh, that reminds me. I picked up some books and a few toys for Oliver to play with when you’re here. I do hope that is alright?”
“Toys for ME?”
“Wow, um…thank you. But you didn’t have to do that, Harry.”
“It was my pleasure, truly. Everything is downstairs in the sitting room. Come along, Eggsy,” he spoke kindly.
Harry led them back down the stairs and into the warmly lit and smartly decorated sitting room, where a collection of new books, play cars, stuffies, and a large assortment of puzzles awaited the toddler.
Ollie ran to inspect his new playthings with great enthusiasm, bursting at the seams with excitement. It warmed Eggsy’s heart to see his child so happy. He had some toys back at home, but they were all second-hand items that Eggsy had picked up at the local charity shops, or little knickknacks from Brandon and Jamal. This was the first time the child had ever received gifts still in their original boxes, and that were truly his own.
”Thanks, Mr. Harry,” the child smiled up at him, hugging a plush pug that played ‘Jingle Bells’ when squeezed. “I love it!”
“You’re welcome, Oliver,” Harry smiled, taking a moment to stoke the fireplace to quickly heat up the house some more.
Ollie followed the older man, and crouched down in front of the stone fireplace, trying to look up the chimney.
“What are you looking at, baby?” Eggsy asked curiously.
“It's just like in my book, momma!”
“Book?” Harry’s brows furrowed.
Eggsy had to think for a minute before his brain finally made the connection. “Oh yeah, you're right. We’ve been reading, “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas,” he clarified for Harry. “He really loves that book. It's got little pictures in it that pop up and stuff.”
“I like the sleepy mouse,” Ollie stated. “Cause mouses live in our house too.”
Harry frowned at that tidbit of information, and he could tell Eggsy was beyond mortified.
“Surely your landlord is aware of the issue?” he asked the omega, concerned.
“Yup,” Eggsy replied, popping the ‘P.’ “It's just one of many things on a long list of problems,” he huffed, waving his hand dismissively.
Harry made another mental note to look into the young man’s property later. No one should ever be expected to live with vermin.
“So, have you been a good boy this year, Oliver?” Harry asked, trying to change the subject to help make Eggsy feel better.
“Mmhhmm. I pick up my toys, and I maked the bed, and I eated all my veggie-tables even dough some taste yucky. And I give momma lots of hugs and kisses!”
“He's a very good boy all year round,” Eggsy stated proudly, tussling his son’s hair.
“Yup. And Momma’s real good too!”
Harry and Eggsy exchanged a knowing look. Fortunately, the child was too young to pick up on it.
“Mr. Harry, why you not have a Christmas tree?”
“Oh, well I suppose it's because I live alone and have no one to enjoy it with,” Harry replied somewhat sadly.
“Me and momma live alone and we drawed a tree!”
“Yes, I remember seeing that. You are quite the artist,” Harry praised him and the child positively beamed. “Perhaps you can draw one for me while your mother is busy cooking?”
Ollie nodded his head excitedly and began detailing his master plan for drawing the ‘bestest Christmas tree ever,’ as Harry finished showing them around the rest of the house.
---- ----
“And last, but not least, this is your new workspace,” Harry announced, leading the way into the large country-style kitchen.
Eggsy felt like a kid in a sweets shop, as he stepped forward into the crisp, clean white space, slowly admiring the dark soapstone countertops, large farmhouse sink, and the various high-end appliances. It was the kitchen of his culinary dreams.
“This is fucking aces, Harry!”
”Ommm, momma!” The toddler scrunched up his nose and wagged his finger at his mother disapprovingly.
”Right, sorry, love.”
Eggsy always found it amusing whenever Ollie would scold him for swearing. He often joked that his child came out of the womb tutting him.
“Thank you,” the alpha smiled kindly. “I do believe it’s properly equipped with everything that a chef could need, but if you find it's lacking anything, please let me know.”
“S'cuse me?” Ollie piped up, shyly.
“Yes, baby?” Eggsy asked.
“I can maybe have some hot chocolate now, please?” The child nervously wrung his hands, worried that the older man might have changed his mind or forgotten.
“Ah yes, Oliver. Thank you for reminding me,” Harry reacted apologetically and immediately sprang into action.
For a man who claimed he couldn’t cook, Harry certainly moved around the kitchen with practiced ease.
The omega's eyes practically bulged out of his head when the older alpha took out a fancy silver tray and a set of holiday mugs, complete with a matching kettle.
“Oi! You ain't gotta go to all this trouble just for us, Harry,” Eggsy told him, plopping Ollie into one of the upholstered high-top chairs located at the breakfast nook.
“Nonsense. A good host must make their guests feel welcomed,” Harry replied, smiling warmly.
Eggsy wanted to point out that he was technically an employee, and not a guest, but decided to keep his mouth shut, as Ollie was mesmerised by the whole ordeal.
Hot chocolate was a luxury for them, as the food bank hardly ever carried non-essential items, and Eggsy didn't want to say or do anything that might put a damper on such a rare treat.
It didn't take long for the kettle to come to a boil, and soon the aroma of rich hot chocolate filled the room. Harry added the perfect amount of milk to each mug and topped off their drinks with a fluffy marshmallow crème, then sprinkled a light dusting of cinnamon and sea salt on top. He even added a peppermint stick for a ‘pop of colour.’
“Here you are, Oliver,” Harry said proudly, placing a mug in front of the toddler. “Please, enjoy.”
“Ohhh, thank youuu.” The child’s eyes sparkled.
Harry chuckled. “You are most welcome.”
“This is delicious, Harry. The sea salt and cinnamon combo is a nice touch.”
“Thank you, Eggsy. Although, I must admit I had some help. My friend’s wife works for Kingsman Talent Agency, you see, and she gifted me the new “Holidays with Hesketh” cookbook. Are you familiar with Charles Hesketh?”
“Yeah, I've heard of ‘em,” Eggsy mumbled, staring down into his drink rather glumly.
“Right. Of course, you have. He is only the most popular young chef in all of the UK. Well, he’s one of Roxanne’s clients. I have to say, a lot of his recipes sound most delightful.”
Eggsy became eerily quiet and visibly pale.
“Momma is okay?” Ollie asked, worried. The little alpha was very much attuned to his omega parent’s emotions and could sense whenever Eggsy was upset.
“Yeah, M’ fine,” he lied. “I just realised I forgot to bring my apron, is all.”
“Ah! No need to worry. I have one that you are welcome to use.” Harry opened a small linen closet and removed a neatly pressed pinstriped apron. “The kitchen is at your full disposal,” he smiled proudly, content that he was able to resolve the issue swiftly.
Eggsy mumbled a quiet thanks and proceeded to help clean up.
“Momma, you gonna cook for Mr. Harry, right?”
“I am, love,” Eggsy replied, sparing a quick glance at the clock mounted on the wall above the stove. “And I should probably get going on that, actually. Bet Harry wants to eat his supper at a sensible time.”
“Please take as long as you need. Do not ever feel like you have to rush on my account. The groceries from your list were delivered earlier today. There were only two or three substitutions, but I think you will find everything in order.”
“Thanks, Harry.”
“And I’m gonna help. Cause I'm momma’s zoo chef!”
Harry and Eggsy laughed heartily and the boy pouted, not understanding the humour of the situation.
“You're my ’sous’ chef, love.”
“That’s what I said, momma.” The child shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
His momma could be so silly sometimes.
---- ----
Eggsy was hard at work preparing a cranberry and orange roast chicken, which made the entire house smell amazing.
Harry couldn't recall the last time he was this excited about a meal. It was all he could do not to sneak back into the kitchen for a quick taste, but he wouldn't dare mess with Oliver again. He absentmindedly rubbed his right hand where the toddler had struck him with a wooden spoon earlier. All the older man had tried to do was sample whatever the delicious concoction was in the stand mixer and Ollie came out of nowhere, armed with the aforementioned utensil. Eggsy tried not to laugh while he lectured his son about ‘not hitting,’ but the shocked expression on Harry's face apparently made it rather difficult to do so with a straight face.
And so now Harry was upstairs sulking in his office like a petulant child, as he patiently waited on dinner.
The older man was halfway through writing up a report for work when the sound of Christmas music began to play throughout the ordinarily silent house.
Normally, Harry would grumble and immediately change the station, but he then realised that he didn't mind Christmas music all too much when the songs were being sung by Eggsy.
The omega had a lovely singing voice and even the child could carry a tune, even though he was butchering the vast majority of the lyrics.
Harry soon found himself absorbed in the music and he was currently hanging onto every verse of Elton John’s “Step Into Christmas,” when Ollie made a fifth, but polite, attempt at capturing his attention.
“My apologies, Oliver.” Harry laughed at himself. “What can I do for you?”
“S'cuse me, Mr. Harry. Momma says supper’s ready now.”
“Thank you very much for telling me. I will be along shortly.”
The child smiled proudly before he toddled off, slowly making his way back down the stairs on his bum like his mother had showed him.
Harry arrived in the dining room a short moment later and immediately frowned when he saw the table had only been set for one.
“Go ahead and take a seat, Harry,” Eggsy told him, placing a covered plate down on the table.
“Aren't you and Oliver going to eat?”
“Oh, um… We was gonna eat in the kitchen. Figured you'd wanna eat your meal in peace?”
“Nonsense. I would very much enjoy the pleasure of your company,” Harry assured him and went about adding two additional place settings, leaving no room for argument.
---- ----
Eggsy tried to convince Harry to start eating while the food was still hot, but the alpha refused to take a single bite before the omega had finished cutting up all his son’s food and having a chance to tuck into his own plate.
“Oh my!” Harry loudly exclaimed after he finally took his first bite.
“Alright, Harry?” Eggsy worried, his fork frozen in midair.
“This is by far the most delectable meal I have ever had,” the alpha gushed, moaning around another bite of juicy chicken.
Eggsy blushed and Ollie giggled behind his hand.
“I'm quite serious, Eggsy. This is incredible.”
“Thanks, Harry.”
“Momma’s a yummy cook!”
“He most certainly is,” Harry agreed. “Bloody well done.”
---- ----
“All the food’s organised into containers so you can take stuff with you to work and reheat leftovers when you get home,” Eggsy explained to Harry, as he put the last of the clean dishes away.
“Thank you again, Eggsy. Everything was wonderful.”
“M’ just doing my job,” the omega shrugged and offered him a small smile.
“Momma! You can help me, please?” Ollie called from the front hallway, patiently sitting on the bottom step and holding up his feet.
“Oi! This was a very good try, but you got your boots on the wrong feet, love.”
“Oops,” Ollie giggled.
The child waddled from side to side, dressed in his bulky winter gear, and making funny faces in the long-length mirror in the front entryway while the adults said their goodbyes.
“I wish you would allow me to call you a cab, or at least let me drive you home,” Harry fretted.
“Nah, we're good, thanks. Besides, I gotta stop and get a few things on the way home.” It was Eggsy's night to visit the food bank, but he didn't want Harry to know that. He also wanted to pop into the church’s charity shop near his flat to see if they had received any new winter coats. “You ready, love?”
“Yes, momma!” Ollie took his mother's hand before he turned to look up at Harry. “Thanks for letting me come play, Mr. Harry.”
The older man chuckled and bent down to the toddler’s eye level. “It was my pleasure. I look forward to seeing you later this week. You make sure your mother gets home safely, alright?”
The toddler nodded his head seriously.
Harry watched as Eggsy and Ollie walked down the pavement, stopping occasionally to admire the Christmas lights on the neighbour’s homes. Once they were out of sight, he turned back inside and went to pour himself his usual after-dinner drink.
---- ----
Later that evening, Harry was comfortably sat in his oversized-leather armchair by the fireplace, trying to lose himself in a good book, but to no avail.
The house was simply too quiet for his liking, and he found himself missing Eggsy’s and Oliver’s joyful tones.
After a few more failed attempts at reading, he closed his book with an audible snap and then walked determinedly across the room.
He couldn’t remember the last time he used his state of the art stereo system, but it had certainly been a while, if the light accumulation of dust that was covering it were anything to go by.
He powered on the rather complicated device and began scrolling through the different channels, not stopping until he finally found what he was searching for.
“Here we are, as in olden days…
Happy golden days, of yore…
Faithfull friends, who are dear to us…
Gather near to us, once more…”
He quietly sang along with Frank Sinatra, as he paced the floor, suddenly admiring how the twinkling holiday lights from his neighbour’s homes shone through his front windows, creating a prism of sorts throughout the room.
It was then that he recalled Oliver’s question from earlier regarding his lack of a Christmas tree.
As the song played on, Harry decided to make some changes. One of which, included him hanging a shining star upon the highest bow, and having himself a happy little Christmas, indeed.
Notes:
Lyrics from "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" (no particular version)
Chapter Text
*Trigger Warning: unwanted advances.
“I swear, Harry. If ye don't stop yer moaning, I'm gonna toss ye, AND yer bloody lunch out of this car.”
”My apologies, Hamish. I cannot help it, this food is simply delightful,” Harry replied rather unapologetically, as he devoured the rest of his leftovers from the dinner Eggsy had cooked, before putting away his lunch pale.
“So ye have mentioned,” Merlin huffed, concentrating on the road.
“Which of the local establishments do you think carries the best trees?” Harry asked nonchalantly, admiring the smartly decorated Oxford Street as they drove past.
“Pardon?”
“I would like to get a tree for my house this year. Of course, my initial thought was to purchase an artificial one. Less messy and all, but there is something rather appealing about having a real tree, is there not? What do you think?”
“I think ye have lost yer damn mind. That’s what I think.”
“I assure you that my mind is perfectly intact. Is there something wrong with trying to get into the holiday spirit?”
“Alright. Who the fuck are ye and what have ye done with Harold Fitzwilliam Darcy Hart?”
Harry growled at the use of his atrocious full name. The Scotsman sniggered, knowing how much his friend hated when he did that, but he needed to ensure that he was paying close attention.
“I'm perfectly fine. I'm simply feeling festive this year, that is all.”
“That's not all yer feeling,” Merlin snorted, pulling the vehicle into the precinct’s car park.
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Ye clearly fancy that omega.” Merlin turned around and looked at him knowingly, but Harry continued to stare straight ahead through the windscreen. “Going to all this trouble of decorating yer home for Christmas when you haven't done so in what, twenty some odd years? Not since that hure ex-fiancé of yers broke your heart one Christmas Eve, and ye swore off the holiday for good. But now look at ye, eh? Yer like a lonely butterfly building a nest to lure a mate.”
Harry scrunched up his face. “How in the world did you ever manage to pass Natural Sciences? Butterflies don’t make nes—never mind. The point of the matter is, you are wrong.”
“Harry, I'm nae saying all this to be an arse.” Harry looked at him sideways. “Alright, not to be a complete and total arse. I just don't want to see ye get hurt is all.”
“Aww, Hamish. Has your heart suddenly grown three sizes this day?”
“Och! Fuck ye and yer fucking feelings, then. How about that?” he unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to get out, but Harry reached out and stopped him.
“I appreciate your concern. I do, Hamish. But I'm fine, really. Eggsy is an employee and nothing more. Yes, I hope that decorating my home for the holidays might make him and his son feel more at ease and also lighten the mood when they are there, but I'm also doing this for me. I have sat out far too many joyous occasions over the years. And I do not know exactly why, but… now feels like it’s the right time to rejoin the rest of the world in the fun.”
Merlin sighed heavily and the two alphas sat in companionable silence, watching the snow fall.
“Tristan and Kay's.”
“Pardon?”
“Tristan and Kay's,” the Scotsman repeated loudly. “It's the best Christmas tree farm around. That’s where Roxy and I get ours from every year. They have hot chocolate and cider, and a little shop that sells unique goods, so the omega and his bairn might enjoy going with ye.”
“That is a splendid idea, Hamish! I will suggest it to Eggsy when he comes over later this evening. Thank you.”
“Aye. Now can we please go back to work? I, for one, would prefer to leave on time for a change, and ye don't want to be late getting home to yer omega.”
Harry was far too preoccupied with planning out the weekend in his head that he didn't even comment on his friend’s choice of words.
The Scotsman smirked knowingly.
---- ----
“Wow! S’like magic, momma!” Ollie exclaimed after watching Eggsy tap his brand-new Oyster card on the yellow card-reader machine.
Eggsy had tried to refuse the darn thing when it arrived at his flat via a private courier earlier that day, but he soon learned that Harry Hart could be one hell of a stubborn man when he wanted to be.
The alpha was adamant about supplying Eggsy with an Oyster card so that he could use it for commuting to and from work.
”It’s either that or a private chauffeur,” Harry had threatened him.
And just in case Eggsy tried to be sneaky and return it to him, or ‘leave it behind’ the next time he cooked, the older man went so far as to make it a condition of his employment… the sly bastard. And so the omega reluctantly accepted.
The reason why Eggsy had fought him in the first place, though, was because he hated feeling like a charity case. He had been taught from an early age that ‘generous’ people don’t actually give a damn about others, and if ever anyone offered him a handout, they were doing so out of pity, or because they wanted something in return, not out of the kindness of their heart.
He also wasn't too thrilled about the idea of being packed into a train with a crowd full of strangers and their combined scents, and where there was no way to escape.
But he set his personal hang-ups aside, as Ollie was excited about riding the train for the very first time, and he didnt want to spoil his fun.
---- ----
Eggsy swiftly carried his toddler through the bustling train station, hoping that he could find a seat during the busy rush hour commute so that he wouldn't have to stand with his child in tow.
Unfortunately, though, the car was packed full by the time they arrived aboard. He scanned the crowd, trying to gauge the safest spot and just so happened to make eye contact with a middle-aged beta who immediately noticed his dilemma and graciously offered up his seat.
”Thanks, mate. Much appreciated,” Eggsy thanked him, sitting with Ollie in his lap.
”Anything for a beautiful omega, such as yourself.” The man winked at him before moving further down the aisle.
Eggsy could feel himself blush. Even though he was accustomed to people frequently commenting him on his good looks, it still caught him off guard whenever it happened. It was probably because it had literally been years since he viewed himself as even remotely desirable.
Since becoming a parent, Eggsy’s entire life had orbited around Ollie and his child’s every need. Dating, even on a casual basis, was far from the last thing on his mind, especially considering that there was a stigma surrounding dating single parent omegas.
It was no secret that alphas, and even some betas, tended to avoid single parent omegas like the plague, and those that didn’t, tended to treat their pups like shit.
Eggsy had firsthand experience in that area, having grown up with Dean Baker for an alpha stepfather. The man treated him like a nuisance, a parasite that needed to be removed, and his mum let the deplorable alpha do as he pleased.
If Eggsy ever did decide to date again, and that was a pretty big IF, that person would have to love and accept his child, too. There was no ifs, and, or buts about it. Ollie was the love of his life and they were a packaged deal; and he would never forsake his child the way his own mother had forsaken him.
”S’like the Polar Eggs-press, momma!” Ollie shouted, as the train sped off, making Eggsy chuckle, earning a collective ’Aww’ from the other passengers.
Eggsy couldn't help but admire the look of wonder on his son’s face as the train raced down the tracks, but it also brought him a small twinge of guilt.
The toddler was easily mesmerised by the simplest of things that it made the omega feel like he was letting his son down somehow. He only wished that he could give his child more to experience.
That’s why the cooking gig with Harry was so important. It was the chance of a lifetime. Aside from it keeping him out of trouble with the law, it was an opportunity for Eggsy to truly prove himself. If he did a good enough job, Harry might give him a recommendation; and a recommendation from a well-to-do alpha like Harry Hart could probably open up some doors and possibly change their lives for the better.
“Your son is adorable,” an older alpha woman seated directly next to him said fondly. “How old is he?”
“Thanks, he's three,” Eggsy replied coyly.
“M’ almost four,” Ollie chimed in, holding up four fingers on his gloved hand.
“You're such a big boy. You must be excited for Christmas, hmm?” she asked sweetly. Ollie nodded and rested his head against his mother's chest. “Mine are too. I have a six-year-old, a five-year-old, and a set of triplets his age.”
“Oh my days. That's a full house.”
“You're telling me,” she laughed proudly. “Are you meeting your mate in the city?”
Eggsy tried hastily to shrug the collar of his jacket higher, but it was too late. The alpha had already looked him over and saw his unmarked neck. Her scent instantly changed from warm and friendly to cold and hostile, and she pointedly turned her nose up at him until she got off at the next stop.
“Bye bye!” Ollie waved to her, but she ignored him, too.
Eggsy grabbed hold of Ollie's hand and kissed it, easily distracting him from being snubbed by the uppity bitch. He didn’t care if people looked down on him, but he hated it when grown adults acted that way towards an innocent child.
New passengers shuffled aboard and an athletically-built alpha, who looked like he was fresh out of secondary school, was all-too eager to snag the vacant spot next to Eggsy. He sat obnoxiously close and eventually draped his arm over the omega’s seat.
“How's it going, beautiful?”
“Alright,” Eggsy replied flatly, refusing to make eye contact.
He wanted to ignore the prick completely, but he knew that pissing off an alpha on a train, where there was no place to escape, wasn't the smartest idea.
The alpha continued trying to engage Eggsy in small talk, asking him about his day, his plans for the weekend, and whether he was single, or ‘looking for a bit of fun,’ but the omega remained undeterred and focused solely on his child.
Either the bloke couldn’t take a hint, or he simply didn't care whether Eggsy was interested or not (Eggsy knew it was the latter) and kept at, much to the omega’s chagrin.
The alpha eventually grew tired of Eggsy’s cold shoulder, though, and decided to change tactics. He inched closer so that their legs were pressed up against one another’s and then he trailed a finger down the omega's back, stopping right above the waistline of his jeans, wiggling his finger inside the gap there, smirking all the while.
Eggsy immediately shot out of his seat like it was on fire and carried Ollie to the far side of the train, putting distance between them.
The alpha pinned Eggsy with a cold glare, and the omega pointedly returned it, having to restrain himself from giving the arsehole the two-finger salute.
With only two more stops to go, Eggsy took a deep breath and started playing the alphabet game with his son to help pass the time.
“A is for?”
“Apple!” Ollie shouted.
“B is for?”
“Um… Jingle bells!”
Eggsy laughed. “Close, love. Try again.”
---- ----
“Are you two alright?!” Harry called out, running out the front door to meet Eggsy and his hiccoughing toddler walking up the footpath. “What happened?”
“We're alright,” Eggsy replied in his mum-voice. “Some jerk on the train grabbed my arse when we was getting off. It upset him is all.” He bounced the child in his arms, trying his best to comfort him, but to no avail.
Harry immediately saw red and uttered a deep, guttural sound of anger that was so powerful it shook some of the nearby houses, causing snow to fall off their rooftops. It also made both the child and his mother fall dead silent.
The alpha's growl had attracted the attention of his neighbours and they could be seen peering curiously out their windows.
“It’s freezing out here. Let's get you both inside.”
Harry guided Eggsy over to the velvet-green settee in the sitting room and helped the omega remove the child's winter gear. He then disappeared into the kitchen and returned a short while later carrying a tray topped with tea and biscuits and some hot cider for the child.
“Hurt you, momma?” Ollie hiccupped, lightly caressing Eggsy's cheek.
“No, baby. That mean alpha surprised me is all, but I'm alright. Everything's gonna be okay. I promise,” Eggsy tried to reassure him.
“Not okay!” Ollie stubbornly shook his head.
Harry could resonate with the pup’s inner turmoil. From infancy, alphas feel an innate responsibility to protect omegas. When Harry was Oliver's age, he would fly off the handle if someone even so much as looked at one of his nannies the wrong way. The child was especially upset because he could feel his mother's fear and distress through their bond.
”Oliver, I know how much you want to protect your mother and want to keep him safe,” Harry spoke softly, kneeling in front of the sniffling child. “What that alpha did was very wrong, and you have every right to be upset. But your mother is an adult and he can take care of himself. You must have faith in him and believe him when he tells you that everything is okay.”
Eggsy rubbed comforting circles on Ollie's back until the child's sniffling eventually subsided. Harry’s words seemed to have the desired effect, as he was able to calm down and soon his attention was averted from the scary ordeal to the yummy beverage that awaited him.
“Thanks, Harry,” Eggsy said softly, accepting a warm cup of tea. “And sorry if we caused a scene in front of your neighbours.”
“Please,” Harry snorted. “All the things I could tell you about them. You would think I was re-counting a soap opera.”
”Really?” Eggsy said breathily. “Guess everyone's got their secrets, then.”
“Indeed. Care for a little topping off?” Harry asked, gesturing towards his extensive scotch collection in the corner of the room.
“Yes, Harry.”
---- ----
“I never knew that making your own pizza could be so easy,” Harry admitted. The alpha helped himself to a fourth slice of flatbread topped with rocket, feta, and figs, and drizzled with a raspberry glaze.
“And it's a great way to get certain people to eat their vegetables,” Eggsy added, darting his eyes towards his toddler.
“I can have one more slice, please?” Ollie pleaded, proving his point.
“Yes, you may. Do you want the barbecue chicken one, or the same kind Harry has?” Eggsy asked him.
“Same as Mr. Harry, please,” Ollie replied bashfully.
Ever since their little talk earlier, the toddler had attached himself to Harry's side, imitating the older alpha's every move.
“You have exceptional manners, young man,” Harry praised and the child positively beamed, mimicking the way Harry ate. After he was done eating, Harry leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach appreciatively. “I shall have to have my suits altered if I keep eating at this rate.”
Eggsy smiled proudly. “Then my work here is done.”
“Momma, we gonna cook for Mr. Harry again tomorrow too, right?”
“Yes, love. We’ll be back to cook tomorrow,” Eggsy assured him, smiling at how visibly happy the toddler was with his response.
“Oh, that reminds me! I was wondering if the two of you might like to accompany me on an outing this weekend? I plan to get a Christmas tree for the house and would like to visit a farm north of here. I'm told that it’s child-friendly and has a lovely marketplace.”
“That sounds like fun. What time was you thinking?”
“Perhaps, we could leave after breakfast on Saturday?” Harry replied hopefully.
“Yeah, okay,” the omega tried to sound casual."He’s your boss," he inwardly reminded himself, but he couldn’t help but grin widely, and he couldn’t quite ignore the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, either. “Looking forward to it.”
Chapter Text
“Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one horse open SLEIGH!”
Ollie clapped his hands, kicking his legs in delight. “Again!”
“No, we’ve listened to that song three times already. How’s about we listen to the next track, hmm?” Eggsy probed.
“No, momma. Want more Jingle Bells, please.”Please? PLEASE?”
It was a brisk Saturday morning and the three of them were en route to the Christmas tree farm, as planned.
Ever so efficient, Harry had his car all warmed up and ready to go, complete with a brand new child safety seat installed securely in the back, by the time Eggsy had cleaned up after making them all a full English breakfast.
The toddler was ecstatic about their little road trip, having rarely ever ridden in cars, and Harry had bestowed upon him the great responsibility of choosing their musical playlist for the trip, not realising that he had just stepped in it… big time.
They had only been on the road for eight short minutes and already Ollie had demanded that they all listen to, and sing along with, his new favourite Christmas song.
Ollie had become enraptured by the melodic carol, thanks in part to the plush pug that Harry had gifted him. The toddler would hug and squeeze the canine stuffie at all hours of the day, making it play its little animatronic version of Jingle Bells, and Eggsy was slightly tempted to toss it out the window. Slightly.
“Oh, how can you possibly say no to that face?” Harry shot a glance at Eggsy from the driver's seat, mimicking the little boy’s adorable pout.
Eggsy knew damn well that giving into the toddler’s demands was going to make the trip feel a hell of a lot longer than a simple one hour drive. But then Harry had to go and play him like that, so what was he to do?
“Alright, but you’re gonna learn today, Harry Hart,” Eggsy warned him, grinning wickedly.
He hit the replay button on the car’s stereo and the percussion of sleigh bells began playing for the fourth time.
---- ----
“Ah, this looks lovely,” Harry declared approvingly, as he pulled his Mercedes into the busy car lot for Tristan and Kay's.
“Mr. Harry, you no singed the best part,” Ollie groaned, as the final verse of his new favourite Christmas song came to an end, for the twenty-third time.
“My apologies, Oliver. I shall make it up to you on the drive home,” Harry promised, then he turned to Eggsy and whispered, “You distract him while I throw the CD into the woods.”
Eggsy barked out a laugh and held up his hands. “Hey! I tried to warn ya, but you didn't want to listen to me.”
“We can get out now, momma?” Ollie asked, eagerly peering through the back windows.
“Yes, love. We're here.” Eggsy turned around and gave Ollie his best ‘your momma means business’ face, then spoke firmly. “There's lots of people here, so you can't go running off, alright? I want you to stay in my sight at all times.”
“K, momma.”
Eggsy double checked his day bag before taking Ollie out of his safety seat, then he went about getting him ready for a walk through the woods.
“Sorry, Harry. We’ll be done now in a minute,” Eggsy apologised, trying to hurry.
“There is no need to apologise, Eggsy. I understand that these things take time. Please do not rush on my account,” Harry replied kindly, standing protectively by their side.
Ollie had only taken a few steps, but he was already having a blast. He stomped triumphantly on small piles of snow with his brand-new dinosaur-themed snow boots, which paired perfectly with his brand-new dinosaur-themed mittens and pom hat; all of which were courtesy of one, Harry Hart.
The child was thrilled about his new winter accessories, almost as much as Eggsy was thrilled about the deep-blue peacoat that Harry had given him. Harry claimed that the coat had been taking up much-needed space in his guest closet for years and that Eggsy was doing him a favour by taking it off his hands, but the omega had his suspicions. And since the alpha had given him the coat in front of Ollie, he didn't want to refuse it and risk making the older man look bad in front of his number one fan.
“I can hold your hand too, Mr. Harry?” Ollie asked him. Harry looked to Eggsy for permission first and bowed his head graciously when the omega smiled in silent approval.
The toddler swung happily between the two adults as they made their way onto the farm. It was packed full of people and there were dozens of small children running around.
They stopped at the hot chocolate stand and Harry purchased each of them of cup before they ventured out into the collection of trees in search of the perfect one.
“Oo! ‘Dis one’s pretty!” Ollie beamed, pointing at a thin Fraser Fir that was roughly his height.
“Hmm. I was thinking of something bigger. Something my height, or perhaps even a little bit taller,” Harry explained. “Do you think you could help me find one like that?”
“Yes! I can help!” Ollie marched a few steps ahead, stopping to inspect every large tree along the way.
“He is taking this rather seriously,” Harry chuckled.
“‘Course he is. He wants to impress you,” Eggsy replied, gazing adoringly at his son.
“He is a remarkable child.”
“Thanks, Harry. But... um... you'll tell me if it gets to be too much, yeah?”
Harry looked at him, perplexed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean... people bringing their kids with ‘em to work ain't exactly the norm, is it? I just don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of the situation is all. If you decide you don't want a toddler constantly under foot, or if we're taking up too much of your free time just tell me and I'll figure something else out. Swear down.”
Eggsy was filled with trepidation and Harry hated how the omega felt like he needed to try and appease him all the time.
“Eggsy, I enjoy having Oliver around. I know it has only been a few weeks, but I have grown quite fond of him. Christmas has never been a particularly joyous holiday in my experience, but there is something to be said about looking at it all through the eyes of a child.”
They continued forward in amicable silence for a bit until Harry finally worked up the courage to ask the one question he’d been dying to know the answer to ever since he learned that Eggsy had a child.
”I know this is ungentlemanly, but may I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure,” Eggsy shrugged.
“Is Oliver’s other parent involved at all?”
Harry had run a background check on the omega back when he and Merlin were investigating him, but it didn’t reveal anything with regards to his family or relations. But it wasn’t uncommon for omegas to have clean backgrounds, especially if they were unbonded.
Eggsy took a few sips of his drink before answering. “His dad, my ex, didn’t want nothing to do with me or Ollie. He literally kicked me to the curb when I told him I was up the duff. He said being tied down with an omega and a pup wasn't part of his grand plan and that it would ‘hinder his career’ or some stupid shit like that.”
“Well, he sounds like a complete tosser.”
Eggsy snorted. “That he is. I mean, yeah Ollie was unexpected and it's been rough raising ‘em on my own and all, but I wouldn't go back and change anything. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me.”
“You are a marvelous mother, Eggsy. No, I mean it,” Harry said firmly when Eggsy rolled his eyes at the compliment. “You have been dealt a difficult hand, and still you continue to persevere. You should be proud of your accomplishments. No matter how big or small they may be.”
The two of them gazed silently into each other's eyes until the toddler’s ecstatic squeals finally snapped them out of their reveries.
“I found it, Mr. Harry!” Ollie shouted, jumping up and down, pointing at a tall Norway Spruce. “See? I found it!”
“Oo! This one’s real nice,” Eggsy whistled, joining in Ollie’s excitement.
Harry walked around the tree and inspected it carefully before he turned to address the toddler.
“I think this tree is positively perfect. Well done, my boy.” Ollie's smile shone like the sun and he repeated Harry's words of praise to himself over and over.
Harry went off to find an employee to assist him with procuring the tree, and Eggsy and Ollie stayed behind to stand guard.
“Momma, I like Mr. Harry.”
“I know you do, baby. Mr. Harry likes you too. He’s a very good friend to have.”
“And you like him too, right?”
“Yeah, of course I do.”
“Good. Mr. Harry likes you. He says you was boo-tiful.”
“He did?” Eggsy’s heart started to race. “When did he say that?”
“A long day ago. When we was cooking breakfast. Mr. Harry said you was the most boo-tiful person he’s ever seened, and I said yes too ‘cause my momma’s the prettiest and bestest momma ever.”
Eggsy leaned down and kissed Ollie's face repeatedly. “How did I get so lucky, huh?” The child giggled in his mother's arms.
---- ----
Eggsy and Ollie strolled through the farm's indoor store while Harry accompanied some of the employees to work on loading the tree up onto the roof of his car.
“What's that, momma?”
“Oo, that's honeycomb.” Eggsy turned the package over in his hands. “See this? It's beeswax and that's pure honey straight from the hive.”
“We can get it?” Ollie asked.
Eggsy flipped it over and his eyes bulged at the price tag.”£89? You're out of your damn mind,” he inwardly criticised it. “Not today, love.”
Even though Eggsy had been working for Harry for a couple of weeks, he still didn’t have any excess funds to spare. All of the money he'd earned so far had gone towards repenting for his crimes and paying down his overwhelming pile of bills.
“May I help you with anything?” A bubbly red-headed saleswoman with an irritatingly sweet American accent asked them.
“Nah. We're just looking, thanks.”
“Well, if you're looking for the perfect Christmas gift, might I recommend something from our home goods collection?” She led him over to the corner of the store where a handful of shoppers were ogling over the different kitchen items. “We have curated a collection of handmade products, including a unique selection of linens, tableware, and kitchen utensils. We also have terrific cookbooks. In fact, we currently have signed copies of the new “Holidays with Hesketh” cookbook.”
The saleswoman handed him the book and it was all he could do not to throw it across the room in disgust. Thankfully, she had turned her attention towards another omega who was perusing the same aisle and Eggsy slammed the book down on the closest shelf, trying to get away from it as quickly as he could.
“Ah, there you two are. Find anything you like?” Harry asked, rubbing his hands together after having spent the last fifteen minutes standing outside and instructing a bunch of beta teenagers on how to properly secure a tree onto the roof of a car without scratching the paint.
“There’s too much to choose from. Um... I have to use the loo. Would you mind watching ‘em for a bit?” Eggsy asked, looking everywhere except at Harry.
“Of course.” Harry took Oliver's hand and frowned after the omega. “Oliver, did anything happen while I was gone?”
“Me and momma shopped. And I saw a honey comb!”
“I see. And did your mother talk to anyone?”
“Mmhhmm. The nice lady over there.” Oliver pointed at the red-headed saleswoman. “She gave momma a book, but momma put it back.” He then pointed towards the shelf where Eggsy had discarded the cookbook, facedown.
Harry picked up the book and saw that it was a signed copy. He assumed that Eggsy had put it back and became upset because he couldn't afford the jacked-up price tag.
“Oliver, can you keep a secret?” The child nodded. “I'm going to purchase this book as a Christmas present for your mother, but I want it to be a surprise, so you cannot say anything to him. Alright?”
“Yay! A surprise for momma!”
Harry hurried to the counter and explained the surprise to the saleswoman behind the register as well (which she, of course, thought was adorable) and she processed the transaction as quickly as possible. She gift-wrapped the item in birch tree wrapping paper and then placed it in a cloth bag and handed it back to Harry just as Eggsy returned from the loo.
“Momma is okay?” Ollie asked, immediately noticing the omega's red puffy eyes and slightly sour scent.
“I’m okay, love. It's just my allergies acting up is all. Should we get going?” he asked Harry.
Harry steered them back to car, exchanging smiles and giggles with Oliver, whom was clearly enjoying being part of his planned surprise.
“Oi! What are you two up to?” Eggsy asked suspiciously, giving them both the stink eye.
“NOTHING!” Both alphas answered in unison.
The omega snorted at their poor attempt to play it cool.
---- ----
“So, are you gonna tell me what's up, or am I gonna have to torture it out of you?” Eggsy asked Harry, as they pulled out of the lot.
“I know not of what you speak,” Harry denied, focusing all of his attention on the road ahead.
“Fine. Have it your way, then.” Eggsy mischievously grinned. “Hey Olls, you wanna listen to Jingle Bells again?”
“Ooo! Yes! More Jingle Bells, please! Mr. Harry you gots to sing with me!”
“Mr. Harry would LOVE to sing with you. Isn’t that right, Harry? Eggsy said with a cheeky wink.
Harry's grip on the steering wheel visibly tightened as the overly cheerful song started blaring out of the speakers, again.
“You play dirty, omega,” he growled playfully under his breath.
“And don’t you forget it, alpha.”
---- ----
Ollie threw a small fit when it was time to leave Harry's house after their eventful day. The toddler had so much fun helping the older alpha decorate the tree, while also intermittently popping into the kitchen to ‘help’ Eggsy make his special aubergine lasagne that he didn't want it to end.
Eggsy couldn't really blame him, though. He also felt a twinge of sadness when it was time to go. It was like a magical spell of some sort had been broken.
Eggsy hurried along the pavement as he carried Ollie home, carefully stepping over discarded liquor bottles and abandoned takeaway containers that littered the ground along the way. The toddler had fallen asleep on the train and Eggsy was hoping that he would remain asleep, or else it was going to be a long night.
He was extra careful not to jostle him awake as he ascended the five flights of cement stairs leading up to their flat, and he smiled triumphantly when he rounded the corner without his son stirring.
Sadly though, his moment of triumph came to an abrupt end when he noticed a piece of paper with bright-red bolded letters affixed to the door of his flat.
Chapter Text
*Trigger Warning: unwanted sexual advances
“Sorry kid, but there’s nothing I can do.”
Eggsy's hands shook as he clutched the eviction notice that had been waiting for him when he returned home to his flat the night before.
“But I'm only a month behind now and I can get completely caught up after only two more pay periods,” Eggsy tried to reason with him, chasing the man around the makeshift front office that smelled like a damn ash tray.
“You've been saying that for months, kid.” The man shuffled around a bunch of papers and lit another cigarette. “It ain't nothing personal, it's business.”
“But we ain't got nowhere else to go,” Eggsy started to cry. “And it's almost Christmas. Can you please just give me till the end of the month? Please?” he begged.
The rough-looking middle-aged beta looked Eggsy up and down, then blew a puff of smoke in his face. “Alright look. Maybe you and me can settle this a different way, eh?”
“What do you mean?” Eggsy asked hopeful, but confused.
“My wife Sheila’s’ at the beauty salon and won't be back for a few hours. How's about you come upstairs and... earn your keep, so to speak.” He brushed a dirty bandaged hand down Eggsy's cheek.
Eggsy jumped back and snarled at him. “Fuck you!”
“That's the plan,” the beta snickered. “Take it or leave it.”
Eggsy stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind him, ignoring the obscenities that the landlord shouted in his wake.
---- ----
“You have been awfully quiet this week. Is everything alright?” Harry asked Eggsy, helping himself to another serving of salad.
“Yeah, guess M’ just overtired is all. Haven't been sleeping much,” Eggsy shrugged, pushing the food around his plate.
Eggsy hadn’t been able to sleep through the night ever since the eviction notice.
He tried to remain positive in front of Ollie, but it was fucking hard.
Just when he thought that everything was starting to turn out right, the universe decided to throw another obstacle in his path. It almost felt like he wasn’t allowed to be happy, and he regretted letting his guard down.
To make matters worse, Ollie could tell that something was wrong and had been extra clingy, and downright moody, as a result.
Eggsy had tried explaining the move to him, but the toddler was simply too young to fully understand, and he would become upset whenever the omega tried to pack up their belongings. So Eggsy had to reside to packing late at night while Ollie was fast asleep; forfeiting a good night’s sleep of his own for the sake of his child.
“Perhaps some fresh air would help,” Harry proposed and pulled out three shiny red and green tickets from his suit pocket and slid them across the table.
“London’s Annual Christmas Festival?” Eggsy read out loud, looking the tickets over.
“Have you ever been? They have a wide variety of festive activities to choose from, including ice skating, arts and crafts, baking workshops, as well as different shows, and light displays. These tickets are good for any day of the week, but I thought perhaps we could go tomorrow since it’s your night off from the pub and the weather is supposed to be pleasant.”
Eggsy really wanted to tell Harry that he needed that time to get more packing done, but the alpha was unaware of their unfortunate predicament. And he didn't want to rope Harry into that mess for fear that he would try to fix it. The older man had done more than enough for him already.
But then he glanced over at Ollie, who was quietly eating his supper and looked as tired as Eggsy felt, and he decided that they both could use a bit of cheering up.
“Yeah, sounds great.”
---- ----
“Wowwwwww,” Ollie gasped, as they strolled through the entrance for the Christmas Festival.
The sound of laughter, carnival rides, and holiday music filled the air. A spectacle of twinkling-coloured lights hung overhead and covered every available surface. Artificial snow sprinkled down from the sky, adding a touch of magic to the winter wonderland.
“Look it, momma! Horseys!” Ollie pointed excitedly.
“That's called a carousel, love. Do you wanna go on it? You coming Harry?”
“Oh no, thank you. You two go on ahead.”
“Come on! It'll be fun,” Eggsy insisted.
“I'm afraid I'm much too old for carousel rides, Eggsy,” Harry argued.
“Oi! Don't give me none of that. Age ain't nothing but a number. And have you looked in a mirror? You're right fit, Harry. Could give any of these blokes a run for their money,” Eggsy gestured around to no one in particular. “Ollie wants you to come too, right baby?”
“Right,” the toddler replied seriously, holding out his hand for Harry to take.
The older man smiled and took the boy's hand, then the three of them joined the short line.
Once it was their turn, they rushed to claim the horses of their choice. Harry chose an elegant black stallion that was trimmed with gold, while Eggsy and Ollie chose a white and blue horse that had a pair of outstretched wings. A whimsical version of “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” began to play and the ride started to spin.
“Whoaaaa!" Ollie giggled, gripping the reigns. Eggsy laughed and held him tight.
Harry turned to look at them and was warmed by the sight of mother and son laughing and enjoying themselves immensely. Iridescent lights swirled around the pair and Harry doesn't think he's ever witnessed anything so beautiful.
“We is racing you, Mr. Harry!”
“Is that so? Well, I bet I can win!” Harry challenged, leaning forward on his horse.
“Oi! We can take ‘em, right Olls?” Eggsy whispered. “Giddy up!”
“Get up!” Ollie echoed.
Eggsy and Ollie leaned forward on their horse, which was situated only a few feet in front of Harry’s, and encouraged it to go faster.
The ride eventually slowed down and the older man pulled out a handkerchief and waived it in the air like a white flag.
“We did it!” Eggsy cheered.
“Yay! You lost, Mr. Harry!” Ollie gloated.
“Not fair. Your horse can fly. You had an advantage,” the older man huffed jokingly.
He helped Eggsy and Ollie climb down, then rested his hand on Eggsy's lower back without thinking anything of it.
“You have such a beautiful family,” the ride worker told them as they stepped off the carousel. It was so lovely to hear that neither Harry or Eggsy bothered to correct her.
Up next was a pint-sized kiddie train ride just for Ollie. Eggsy and Harry waved at the toddler as he rode in a blue car through a miniature village, staring openmouthed at everything he passed. Then they played a few carnival games and Eggsy won Ollie a stuffed reindeer in a ring-toss game; impressing Harry with his steady hand-eye coordination in the process. And then Harry treated them all to warm sausage rolls, which they ate while they sat and watched a lively puppet show about a young wolf trying to run away to Lapland in search of Father Christmas.
“What's next?” Eggsy asked, excited.
“I was thinking we could go ice skating?” Harry suggested as he disposed of their trash.
“You know how to skate?” Eggsy raised a brow.
“I used to skate all of the time when I was a child. Though it has been a while, I imagine it’s much like riding a bicycle.”
---- ----
As it so happens, it was nothing like riding a bicycle. None whatsoever.
Harry gripped onto the wall enclosing the ice-skating rink for dear life, as dozens of people, including elderly couples, and small children, zipped by him.
“Alright, Harry?” Eggsy asked, biting his lip to keep from laughing.
“Oh, yes. I'm perfectly fine, thank you,” he replied on unsteady legs, as his skates slid in opposite directions. “Are you both enjoying yourselves?”
“Momma and me skated!”
“Yes, and you did a splendid job of it. Your mother is an excellent teacher. You must have had lessons?” he asked Eggsy, carefully inching his way towards the exit.
“Nah. This is my first time. I used to do gymnastics when I was little, though,” Eggsy replied nonchalantly.
Harry stared at him in disbelief. “This is your very first-time skating and you managed to execute a perfect axel jump?”
“S’no big deal,” Eggsy shrugged.
”Well, you’re full of surprises.”
“Do the spin again, momma! Please?”
“You wanna see it again?” Eggsy laughed. “Alright, stay here with Harry.” He transferred Ollie's hand into the older man’s, and then skated to the centre of the rink.
The toddler cheered after him and Harry couldn't help but join in.
Eggsy started off slow and steady, then quickly built-up speed before he used one foot to spring up in the air, where he spun around as gracefully as a ballerina, before he landed perfectly back on the ice.
Fellow skaters and several onlookers clapped for the young man, and Harry ended up having to growl warningly at group of twenty-something alphas who thought it would be appropriate to cat-call the omega.
“Good job, momma!”
“Thanks, love,” Eggsy chuckled upon his return. “You wanna skate around one more time?” The child repeatedly shouted ‘yes’ in reply. “You wanna come too, Harry?”
“I would rather watch you both from here, thank you.”
Eggsy grabbed hold of Harry's hand. “Come on, let go of the wall, I got you.”
“Eggsy, I do—
“I got you. Trust me, yeah?”
The alpha reluctantly allowed Eggsy to guide him away from the safety of the wall and into the steady flow of skaters.
It took him a few tries, and there was a whole lot of cursing, which was promptly followed by chiding from the toddler, but Harry finally managed to skate all the way around the rink without wiping out.
“Good job, Mr. Harry!”
“Thank you, Oliver. But I could never have done it without your mother.”
“Momma’s the bestest!”
“He is, indeed,” Harry agreed, his eyes glowing with fondness.
---- ----
They topped off their magical evening with a visit to Father Christmas. Ollie was ecstatic when it was finally his turn to sit and chat with the jolly old man and he could barely sit still throughout their conversation.
“Ho! Ho! Ho! Have you been a good boy this year?” Father Christmas asked him.
“Mmhhmm,” Ollie nodded, surely. “Right momma?” he called out to Eggsy.
“He's always good,” Eggsy confirmed, taking pic after pic with his mobile.
Yup, he had just turned into one of ‘those’ parents who took a million photos of their kids. He couldn’t help it. His little one was the cutest child on earth and he needed at least a hundred pictures to document such a precious moment.
“Well then, tell me what you want for Christmas, young man.” Ollie tapped his finger on his chin, looked back at his mother, then at Harry, before whispering something in Father Christmas’s ear. “Oh... I see,” the old man replied thoughtfully.
“I sent you a letter too. Momma mailed it for me.”
“That was very thoughtful of you. You have a good heart and your mother must be very proud of you,” said Father Christmas, flashing Eggsy a bright smile. He then whispered something to the toddler and Ollie nodded his head excitedly.
“Thank you, Father Christmas,” Ollie hugged him goodbye. “Momma! Mr. Harry! Look it! I got a candy cane!”
“That will be a delicious treat to have after dinner,” Harry replied, safely guiding Eggsy and Ollie back through the crowd.
“So Olls, what did you ask Father Christmas for, hmm?” Eggsy asked.
“Can't tell you, momma.”
“Oi!” Eggsy placed his hand on his heart, pretending to be wounded. “You're gonna keep it a secret from your own mum?”
“Perhaps you can tell me, Oliver?” Harry tried persuading him, supposing that Eggsy wanted to know so that he could try and procure whatever toy it was that the child wanted. “I promise to keep it a secret.”
“Uh-uh, Mr. Harry. No tell you or momma. Only Father Christmas,” Ollie replied firmly, folding his arms over his chest.
“My little man doesn't play around when it comes to Christmas,” Eggsy laughed, picking up Ollie and carrying him the rest of the way.
“Thanks for taking me and momma to have fun, Mr. Harry.”
“Yes, thanks for today, Harry. I can’t remember the last time we had such a good time.”
“You are quite welcome. And thank you both for the pleasure of your company.” The alpha smiled and wrapped a protective arm around Eggsy’s shoulder, as they leisurely made their way towards the car.
Chapter Text
*Trigger Warning: mentions of physical assault and mild mention of coerced medical treatment.
“No momma! I want bunny! Want my bunny now!” Ollie screamed, stomping his foot.
“You can have your bunny again real soon, my love. We have to put all of our things in these boxes so we can bring them with us to Uncle Brandon and Uncle Jamal’s house,” Eggsy replied patiently.
The toddler hadn’t even played with the stuffed bunny in months, but he was still completely distraught at the sight of it being packed away in a moving box.
Ollie was having a hard time adjusting to reality following what was one of the best nights of his young life, and he was in a particularly foul mood.
The Christmas Festival had been a much-needed reprieve from the shit show that was their lives, but they couldn't live in dreamland forever.
Eggsy really needed to finish packing and had a limited amount of time to get everything done, and Ollie fighting him every step of the way wasn't helping.
“No, momma! Not my monkey too. Want monkey!” he began to cry and made grabby hands for the stuffed monkey that Eggsy added to the box.
“Baby, I'm not taking away your toys forever. You can have them back in a few days,” Eggsy replied patiently, taping up the box before labelling it with a permanent marker.
“Mean, momma!”
Eggsy held his breath and closed his eyes, inwardly counting down from ten in a desperate attempt to calm down.
"Olls, if you don't stop yelling and don't start listening to me, then you're gonna have to go in time out.” The toddler abruptly stopped whining and his eyes widened at the threat.
Eggsy wasn’t sure if Ollie even fully understood what a timeout meant, as he'd never done anything to warrant such a punishment before, but the threat of one seemed to do the trick.
The toddler was still visibly upset, but he had finally calmed down enough to allow Eggsy to finish packing without anymore fuss. He even tried pitching in, bringing Eggsy his toys and handing him newspapers to wrap their fragile things in.
---- ----
“Momma, we can still eat tacos when we live at Uncles’ house, right?” Ollie asked over supper.
“Yes, baby,” Eggsy smiled, sprinkling some extra cheese over their chicken tacos.
“And fish fingers?”
”Yup.”
”With ketchup?”
”All the ketchup you want!”
“And we can still read stories?”
“Of course, love. We’ll still do all the things we do now,” Eggsy smiled softly.
“And we can see Mr. Harry again too, right?”
“Yes. We'll see Harry again right after the move. Eggsy panicked when the toddler suddenly started crying hysterically, hiding his little face behind messy salsa-covered hands.” Baby! What's wrong, love?”
“We is not gonna have Christmas no more, momma!”
“What?”
”Father Christmas is not gonna find me!”
Eggsy felt terrible. He was so busy focusing on the move and trying to figure out a long-term plan that he had completely overlooked Christmas and how important it was to Ollie. His little boy had very few sources of joy in his life, and the omega regretted not figuring out the main reason for his son’s distress sooner.
He pulled the weeping child into his lap and wiped off his hands clean with a napkin, then rested his chin in the crook of the boy's neck.
”Olls, I promise you that Father Christmas isn't gonna have any trouble finding us. He's magical, so he knows whenever children move to a new home. But if you want, I can send him a letter telling him that he can find us at Uncle Brandon and Uncle Jamal’s house, and I can mail it to Lapland tomorrow just to be sure, yeah?”
“Ok, momma,” Ollie sniffled. Eggsy rocked him for a bit and peppered his face with kisses before cleaning up their plates.
“Alright. Let's get you into the bath, love.”
“No bath,” Ollie shook his head, smiling cheekily.
“Yes bath,” Eggsy laughed and made a quick grab for the toddler, prompting him to squeal and run-away.
Eggsy had started to chase after him when there was a knock at the door.
The omega undid the chain lock and was immediately hit with the smell of cigarette smoke as he opened it, and then everything went dark.”
---- ----
Harry blindly reached for his mobile, as it continued to vibrate on top of his nightstand.
“Hart speaking.”
“Harry?”
“Hamish?” Harry sat up in bed and spun his digital alarm clock around, groaning when he saw that it was one o’clock in the morning. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Aye. Harry, I’m calling ‘cause there's been an incident involving yer omega.”
Harry shot out of bed, suddenly feeling wide awake. “What happened? Is he alright? Where is he?”
“He’s in the A&E at Stanhope. He's banged up a bit, but he's gonna be alright.”
“Oliver! Where is hi—
“The bairn is with him. He's not been harmed. But the hospital is refusing to release the lad without an alpha present to vouch for his ability to take care of the child.”
“Of all the sexists and pig-headed bullshit!”
“Aye. Lamorak and Bedivere are there now. I told them ye would be coming down there. They promised to stay with the lad until ye did.”
“Thank you, Hamish. I’m on my way.”
---- ----
The alpha broke nearly every traffic law on his drive to the hospital.
Harry barrelled through the main entrance, almost crashing through the sliding glass doors, and impatiently flashed his badge at the employees working the front desk when they unwisely attempted to slow him down.
He didn’t need to ask anyone which room Eggsy was in, as his inner-wolf could sense the omega and his pup from miles away.
He nodded to the officers standing guard outside the last room located at the end of a long hallway, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when his eyes finally landed on the omega.
But his relief was quickly replaced with pure, unfiltered rage.
The young man was propped up in the bed, sporting a black eye, and his face was littered with minor cuts and bruises. His weeping toddler was desperately clinging to him and soaking his hospital gown with his tears.
“Oh, Eggsy. What happened?”
Eggsy remained unmoved and kept his gaze down, refusing to so much as look at him.
“Oliver.” Harry reached out and gently picked up the toddler. “Your mother is going to be alright. You are both safe now and I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”
Harry paced around the room, lightly bouncing Ollie in his arms until the child eventually fell asleep, and then he placed him in the leather visitor’s chair, draping his jacket over him.
“How’d you know we was here?” Eggsy asked quietly.
“My friend, Hamish, was on-call and recognised your name when officers were called to the scene. Will you tell me what happened?”
Eggsy fiddled with his IV and tears began rolling down his cheeks.
“We're being evicted. We have to be out by this weekend. I had some words with my landlord and he… he made a pass at me and I told him to piss off. He came to my door right after me and Ollie had eaten supper and started yelling at me, calling me a whore and shit, and accusing me of telling his wife about ‘em being a creep. But I didn’t say nothing to her, Harry. Ask the feds, I’ve never grassed anyone up, ‘til now anyways. Next thing I know, I was on the ground. All I could think about was protecting my pup, so I fought him off the best I could and yelled at Ollie to run next door for help before I blacked out. Then I woke up here and now some arrogant prick of a doctor is telling me that I can't take my pup home without an alpha present ‘cause he thinks I'm unfit, the fucker.”
Harry had never been so angry in all his life. First, he wanted to find and KILL the slime ball landlord who dared lay a hand on this sweet, beautiful omega. And then he wanted to find the young man’s physician and tear his throat out of his sexist arse.
“Eggsy, none of this is your fault.”
Eggsy huffed and crossed his arms. “You don't need to placate me, Harry. I know I'm a fucking mess. I mean look at me! I’m behind on every bill I have, and no matter how hard I work I can never catch up. I can barely afford to feed Ollie on the nights that I don't cook for you, and I gotta skip meals most the time so I can make sure there's enough for ‘em to eat. Sometimes we gotta wear our jackets to bed ‘cause I can't even afford to turn the heat on. I’ve had to sew Ollie new clothes outta some of my old ones ‘cause I can't afford to buy him any and he's growing like a weed. Everything in my flat came from off the streets or outta a dumpster. And we've got fucking mice running around our place getting into everything. Oh yeah, and Christmas is almost here and I haven't even given it any thought ‘cause I’ve been so worried about all this other shit. Hell, I can't even afford to get my kid a decent present!”
Eggsy’s heart monitor beeped urgently in warning and he fell back against the bed, visibly defeated and exhausted.
Harry knew that no amount of words would make the younger man feel better, so he simply held Eggsy in his arms and let the omega sob against his chest until all of his tears ran dry.
“Your clothes don’t match,” Eggsy eventually said, sniffling and wiping his face with the back of his hands before Harry handed him a handkerchief. “And you’ve still got your slippers on.”
“So, I do.” Harry replied, genuinely surprised with himself.
It suddenly dawned on him just how utterly ridiculous he looked, dressed in a pair of plaid trousers, a misbuttoned striped dress shirt, a polka dot cardigan -that was inside out, and a pair of fuzzy house slippers. He had been so focused on getting to Eggsy as quickly as possible that he hadn’t bothered with his appearance before leaving the house… for the first time ever in his life.
“I can’t believe you drove all the way out here for me, at one in the morning, dressed like that,” Eggsy grinned, his broken eyes searching the older man’s face.
Harry was about to tell him that he’d do anything for him when someone else entered the room.
“Knock, knock,” an alpha dressed in a crisp white lab coat announced, waltzing into the room without actually knocking. “Ah, you must be this one’s alpha. I'm Dr. Digby. Your omega suffered a few nicks and bruises and he has a mild concussion, but he should feel better in no time, so long as he abides by my orders that is.”
“And did you explain these orders to him? He is the patient after all.”
“Well, I tried to, but he became rather hysterical. I’m sure you know how it is with omegas. Such emotional creatures. But I gave him something to calm him down until we could locate you.”
“You fucking wanker!” Eggsy snapped, waking Ollie in the process, whom immediately ran to his mother’s side.
The physician growled warningly, but that only made Harry growl too. And Harry's growl shook the entire hospital wing.
“If you don't control your omega then I'm going to have to call security.”
“Do not threaten me, Dr. Digby,” Harry warned him, coolly. “Would you like me to recite every law that you have broken this evening?” The physician balked at him. “First, you threatened Mr. Unwin. Then you drugged him. Then you used his child to coerce him into receiving unwanted, and possibly even unnecessary, care. Then you assumed that I was his alpha and disclosed his private medical information to me without his consent.”
“I don't... I don't...” the physician stammered. “I don't know who you think you are, but this is my hospital and I won't tolerate being spoken to like this.”
“My apologies. I should have introduced myself sooner. I'm Chief Superintendent Harold Hart.” He flashed his badge and stared the physician down, creating an unspoken challenge between them.
Eggsy watched in shock, and awe, as Dr. Digby visibly shrank and began apologizing profusely. He’d never seen an alpha cower like that before. And it was fucking awesome. He couldn’t help but laugh as the man all but ran out of the room with his proverbial tail tucked between his legs.
The omega knew that Harry was a powerful alpha, but seeing him execute his authority first-hand seemed to awaken something inside him, and it was all he could do not to jump into the other man’s arms.
It had been a long, long time since he last felt any kind of pull towards another human being, and it was terrifying to say the least. But at the same time, it was also exhilarating and welcomed.
He only wondered if Harry felt the same.
---- ----
“Fuck me, Harry. You was amazing!” Eggsy said breathlessly.
”Ommm, momma!” Ollie softly tutted him, right before his eyes fell shut and he drifted back to sleep, tucked safely into Eggsy’s side.
The adults smiled warmly at the sleeping child.
“Thank you, my boy. If there is one thing I cannot stand, it’s poor manners. Someone needed to teach that little prat a lesson.”
“I think he might have pissed himself. Ain't never seen a bloke so scared of a title before. Didn't know you was such a big shot, Mr. Chief Superintendent.”
Harry’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “It was not my title that frightened him, but rather my surname,” he admitted, somewhat bashful. “As it so happens, my great great grandparents founded this hospital, and the Hart Family presently serves on the board. One phone call and I could have easily had him removed and also barred from working at any reputable establishment in the city.”
Eggsy whistled, impressed.
A nurse came into the room and gently removed Eggsy's IV and then helped him change into a pair of hospital scrubs that unintentionally accentuated his toned torso and arms. Harry knew that it was most ungentlemanly to stare, but he couldn’t help it, Eggsy was a work of art.
“Suppose we should head out, yeah? Wanna get this guy home and into bed proper,” Eggsy spoke quietly.
“You are not seriously considering returning to your flat?” Harry replied, horrified by the idea of the omega going back there.
“Ain't got much of a choice. It’s late and we can’t afford to stay in a hotel, and my mates live on the other side of the city. We’ll be alright, Harry.”
“You can stay with me.” The words fell out of Harry's mouth so fast that he didn't even have time to process what he just said.
“Wot? Harry I... No, you've done enough for us already. I can't ask you to do nothing else.”
“You are not asking, I'm offering. And there is no such thing as limitations on good deeds. You can stay in the guest room. We can even change the terms of our agreement to make your job a full-time live-in position if that will make you feel better about the arrangement?”
“Harry...”
“Please. I will not be able to sleep at night unless I know the both of you are safe,” Harry pleaded, running his hand through Eggsy's hair.
Eggsy sighed deeply and leaned into his touch. “Yes, Harry.”
Chapter 11
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Morning, Mr. Harry!” Ollie yelled, rushing to greet the older man before he even made it all the way down the stairs.
The morning greeting had become a daily routine ever since Eggsy and Ollie had moved in, and Harry found himself looking forward to it with each new day.
“Good morning, Oliver. Did you sleep well?”
“Mmhhmm. I had nice dreams.”
“I'm glad to hear it.” He picked up the child and hugged him. “Is your mother in the kitchen?”
“Yup. Momma’s making waffles!”
“Waffles you say? Shall we take a peek?” he whispered. Ollie giggled conspiringly and they tiptoed their way into the kitchen.
Eggsy looked effortlessly handsome and at ease, dressed in nothing but a plain old white t-shirt and a pair of grey fleece joggers. His injuries were almost fully healed, and happiness was radiating off him like the sun.
He swayed his hips as he stood at the stove, scrambling eggs with some chopped up veggies, and singing along to a Christmas song playing on his phone:
“The cold wind is blowing and the streets are getting dark…
I'm writing you a letter and I don't know where to start….
The bells will be ringing Saint John the Divine…
I get a little lonely everyday around this time….”
Harry managed to remain unnoticed up until the moment that Eggsy started singing into his spatula as if it were a microphone.
The whole scene was so ridiculously wholesome and just downright adorable that he could no longer hold back, and he let out a deep, bellowing laugh.
“Oi! Just how long have you two been standing there?” Eggsy demanded, piercing his audience with a stern gaze and a hand on his hip. “It’s not nice to spy on people, you know.”
“My apologies, omega. Please let me make it up to you.”
At first, Eggsy looked at Harry’s proffered hand like the man was completely crazy, but then he allowed himself to be pulled into a dance.
“Yay!” Ollie cheered, as the two adults happily danced around the kitchen, laughing merrily and staring longingly into each other’s eyes, as the song played on:
“I've got to know…
(Nobody ought to be alone on Christmas)….”
Where do lonely hearts go…
(Nobody ought to be alone on Christmas)…
(Oh) Nobody ought to be all alone on Christmas…”
---- ----
After breakfast, Harry had decided to work off some calories by building an elaborate snow maze in the backyard for Ollie to play around in.
The toddler had been overly excited about the recently large snowfall that had blanketed all of London, and Eggsy had wanted to take the boy outside to play so that he could burn off some of that excess energy.
It had taken Harry most of the morning to make a good-sized maze, and he was nearly exhausted by the time it was finished. But it was completely worth the effort in the end when the toddler ran outside and squealed with sheer joy.
“Whoa, Harry! I can’t believe you did all this,” Eggsy said in awe of the winter masterpiece, as he led Ollie out into the spacious backyard.
“I used to build snow mazes like this for Mr. Pickles. Like a certain someone, he too would have excess energy during the winter and simply needed a way to release it, or else he would turn into a little terror.”
”Sounds about right,” Eggsy snorted.
“Oof!”
“Careful, pup,” Harry laughed, picking the toddler up off the ground and helping him stand upright again.
After a brief history lesson on the origins of mazes, and a detailed explanation on how this particular maze was designed to test Ollie’s senses, Harry was off to hide at the maze’s end.
“I go which way, momma?”
“You gotta figure it out, love. Remember what Harry said? You gotta use your nose, eyes, and ears to find him.”
The child concentrated carefully on his surroundings, examining the path for clues, as he vigilantly chose which turns to take. He soon found himself stuck at a crossroads and was deliberating on which way to go when a deep howl filled the morning air.
Ollie gasped and turned to his mother, “I hear him!”
The toddler was off! He made a mad dash to the left, then he bolted right, and then he turned left again. He paused at a crossroads, thoughtfully tilting his head to the side and listening carefully, as a light snow began to drift around him. Then he ran down the path located to his right, with renewed determination.
“Found you! I found you, Mr. Harry!”
“Well done, Oliver!”
Harry was so pleased that the toddler had successfully executed his wolf abilities. A well-known trait amongst alphas is the exceptional hearing and strong sense of smell that they have, and it was important to nurture their wolf-like instincts from a young age.
“Now what?” Ollie shrugged, his face a rosey shade of red.
“Shall we go back and find your mother now?”
“Yes! Momma, we coming back!” Ollie shouted down the path, then led the way. “Momma no here,” he frowned when he discovered that Eggsy wasn’t where he last saw him.
“Hmm. Perhaps he went inside?”
Harry turned around to look at the house when suddenly, he was hit in the face with a ball of wet snow.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” Eggsy barked.
“We got you, Mr. Harry!” Ollie giggled, joining his mother in celebration.
“I see how it is,” Harry muttered, as he cleaned off his glasses. “Since I'm a gentleman, I'm going to give you both until the count of three, and then I'm going to unleash the Snow Beast,” he said in a gravely serious tone. “One...”
“Run Olls!” Eggsy chuckled, grabbing hold of the child’s hand and dragging him behind the protective wall of snow that he had built.
“Two... Three. ROAR!”
Eggsy and Ollie shrieked with laughter as the “beast” moved closer. The toddler helped his mother throw some pre-made snowballs at the older alpha, and they managed to hit him in the legs and chest, seemingly slowing him down.
“Oh no! Snowballs are my one true weakness,” Harry bellowed. “I can feel my power waning. One more hit and I fear I will meet a cold, bitter end.”
“You can do it, Olls!” Eggsy handed him the largest snowball he had in his arsenal and smiled encouragingly.
Ollie wound up his arm and took aim.
“You will never defeat the Hart Beast! Ooph!” Harry groaned dramatically, as the snowball barrelled straight into his stomach, then he fell forward.
“I did it! I saved us, momma!”
Eggsy high-fived the toddler, then ran over to check on the older alpha. “Um...you alright Harry?”
“Yes, thank you. If you would be so kind as to help an old man up?” Eggsy rolled his eyes at Harry’s choice of words, but offered him his hand anyway. “Thank you, Eggsy. AHA!” He pulled the omega down with him and smushed a handful of snow in his face.
Eggsy laughed hysterically, as he tried to break free.
“Hey! Let go of my momma!” Ollie yelled before he charged at the older man, and unleashed the Kraken.
---- ----
“M’ real sorry my kid kicked you in the balls, Harry,” Eggsy apologised for the hundredth time, handing the alpha a cup of peppermint tea while Ollie snored at his side.
“As I said before, he was simply trying to protect his mother. It was admirable. However, I do regret buying him those steel-toed boots.” The alpha winced, readjusting the icepack on his nether regions.
Eggsy was careful not to wake the toddler as he joined them on the settee. They continued talking quietly about this and that, whilst they casually perused the on-demand section on the telly before eventually settling on an old black and white Christmas classic.
“Is this alright?” Harry asked unsure.
“S’perfect. Me and my mum used to watch old films together. She grew up on nothing but black and whites. My dad actually proposed during a special showing of “My Fair Lady” in the park. That’s my favourite movie, by the way.”
“Full of surprises,” Harry smiled warmly.
At some point during the movie, Eggsy and Harry had grown closer on the settee with Ollie still settled between them.
And if Harry had paid more attention to the omega and his pup than the actual movie, no one would have been any the wiser.
---- ----
“Hamish! Harry!” Percival bellowed as he barreled into their office appearing frantic and unseasonably pale. “We have a situation.”
The alphas rose from their seats, ready to swing into action.
“The hall where our Christmas party is supposed to be held has had to cancel because their pipes burst,” Percival droned.
The alphas sat back down, slightly annoyed by the false alarm.
“That's a damn shame,” Merlin replied insincerely, hoping that Percival would announce the cancellation of the party now.
“I have called every hotel and banquet hall that I could possibly think of, but there is no availability this close to Christmas. What are we to do? Everyone has been looking forward to it for so long. This is an utter disaster!”
Harry looked at Merlin and the Scotsman practically murdered him with his eyes, knowing full well what the other alpha was about to say.
“We can host it at my home,” Harry offered, and Merlin dramatically slammed his head down on the desk.
“Oh, that's too much to ask of you, Harry,” Percival replied.
“Not at all. As you know I hosted Hamish and Roxanne’s wedding a few years back and it was a great success. We would have to scale back of course, but we could make it work. I do; however, have one condition.”
“Anything!” Percival promised.
“I want my personal chef to handle the food. And I want him to be compensated the same amount that we planned on paying the hall’s caterer.”
“Done. Harry, thank you. You're a life saver!”
“I'm glad I could help.” Harry couldn't wait to go home and tell Eggsy the good news.
After Merlin murdered him.
---- ----
“I can’t believe you want me to cook for like a hundred people, Harry! I... Fuck! I ain't never made food for that many people all at once before!”
“I have every confidence in you, Eggsy,” Harry told him for the hundredth time that evening.
The omega nearly feinted when Harry had proposed the idea to him earlier, and had spent the last few hours pacing around the house, second-guessing his abilities.
“All you would need to do is prepare an assortment of passed hors d'oeuvres and some desserts,” Harry tried reasoning.
“Oh, is that all? Do you have any idea how long all that will take? No, of course you don't. You ain't a chef. And I ain't either. M’ just a chav omega with a stupid dream.”
”Eggsy, sit down!” Eggsy whined and slumped into a chair at the dining room table, hanging his head in shame. “I apologise for raising my voice, darling, but I will not tolerate such talk. You are a remarkable young man and an incredibly talented chef. I would not have recommended you for the job if I did not think you were qualified.”
“But what if I fuck it up, Harry?”
“Then we will change our identities, move to a remote island, and start completely new lives. I already have our aliases ready.”
Harry’s attempt at humour helped ease the omega’s nerves, but he still had his doubts.
“I don't wanna do nothing that could make you look bad,” Eggsy added, worriedly.
“Eggsy, this is not about me. This is about you. This is a tremendous opportunity for you to showcase your talent.” Harry took both of the omega's hands in his and kissed them softly. “You can do this. But you must believe in yourself.”
“Fuck,” Eggsy slurred, blushing. “Guess I better start planning the menu, huh?” Harry beamed proudly. "Will anyone want to bring anything, you think? You's said something earlier about one of your coworker's making a punch?"
"It's more like a paint solvent than a punch. Whatever you do, darling, do not drink it. Unless you want to wake up on a bench halfway across the city, wearing nothing but your pants and a cowboy hat, and holding a cold bucket of fried chicken.”
"I'm guessing this is a story about your early days on the job?" Eggsy arched a brow, intrigued.
Harry scoffed. "More like four years ago. I shall tell you more about it while we work."
---- ----
Eggsy spent the rest of the week experimenting with different recipes and fretting over every tiny detail concerning the menu for the party. Harry and Ollie made sure to steer clear of the kitchen, but happily served as Eggsy's official taste testers every time he came up with a new idea.
“Mmm. Yummy momma!” Ollie hummed happily, licking every inch of the spoon after sampling Eggsy's maple cranberry purée.
“Thank you, baby. That's definitely going on the menu then.” Eggsy jotted down Ollie's response, and then had him sample a few more test hors d'oeuvres.
Harry loved the omega's philosophy, “If a toddler likes it, then that means it's good, ‘cause kids are the most honest critics.”
“Hamish and Roxanne will be here shortly,” Harry announced.
“Alright, can you carry these into the dining room for me, please?” Eggsy asked, handing him some plates.
“Of course.” Harry picked up the hot dishes and placed them on the cooling block in the centre of the dining room table.
Roxy was stopping by to help Harry stage the house for the upcoming party and Merlin was tagging along for the free food. Eggsy was both excited and nervous for other people to try his cooking. Not that he didn't trust or value Ollie or Harry's opinions, but it would be nice to have some objective input as well.
“I can get it!” Ollie announced when the doorbell rang.
“Oliver LEE UNWIN don't you dare open that door!” Eggsy yelled at him in warning. He quickly finished putting the rest of the food on the table and smiled to himself, pleased. “Oi! I'll get it!” he shouted when the doorbell rang again. “Hey Harry, is there a reason why you ain't opening the door?” he chuckled at the alpha who was just standing in the middle of the front hallway, looking pale as a sheet. “Harry, you okay? Harry? HARRY?!”
Notes:
Lyrics are from "All Alone On Christmas" by Darlene Love
Chapter Text
*Trigger Warning: conversation about a past robbery, past gun violence, and past character death.
“Olls, you need to give him some space, love.”
“It's alright, lad. He's just worried about the old goat. Come on, Harry. Time to wake up now.”
“Here's some ice.”
“Thank ye, Roxy. Come on now, Sleeping Beauty. Yer giving everyone a fright.”
Harry slowly blinked open his eyes. It took him a few minutes to recognise his surroundings, then he wrinkled his nose in disgust when he realised that he was laying on the floor of the front hallway.
“Well, this is most unsanitary,” he mumbled.
“Welcome back, Harry,” Merlin snickered, helping his friend sit up.
“What happened?” Harry rubbed the back of his head and discovered a moderately sized swollen bump.
“Ye passed out.”
“You felled down, Mr. Harry,” Ollie added.
“Maybe we should move him into the sitting room?” Eggsy suggested, then he and Merlin helped the bewildered alpha over to the settee.
“I think I need a drink,” Harry grumbled, resting his head against the back of the velvet cushion.
“I’ll get some water,” Roxy offered before she disappeared into the kitchen.
“Care to explain what got ye all worked up, Harry?” Merlin asked, double checking the man’s vitals. His time serving as a medic in the army had a tendency to come in handy.
Harry pressed the ice to his head and closed his eyes in concentration. He remembered bringing the food to the table, and the doorbell ringing, and then Eggsy shouting something at Oliver...
“Oliver Lee Unwin,” Harry breathed, sitting forward, his eyes darting towards Eggsy in alarm.
“Hi, Mr. Harry!” The child waved happily in response to his name.
Eggsy was staring back at Harry in confusion and with concern written all over his face.
“Hamish, can you and Roxanne take Oliver into the kitchen, please? I need to speak with Eggsy alone for a moment.”
“Aye.” Merlin turned to Ollie and whispered,” I know where Mr. Harry hides the chocolate biscuits. Ye want to help me eat some?”
The child's eyes lit up and he looked to his mother for permission, before he eagerly followed the Scotsman out of the room.
“Harry, what the fuck is going on?” Eggsy asked, sitting on the cushion next to him. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”
“In a way, I have.”
“M’ sorry-wot-now?”
“When you called Oliver by his full name earlier, I had a flashback to a terrible day.”
“I don't understand...”
“It was six days before Christmas. I was new to the force and had been tasked with patrolling the Square Mile’s finance district. At the end of my shift, I passed by a group of men dressed up as Father Christmas loitering outside of Lancelot Bank. I distinctly remember having a peculiar feeling about them, but I ignored it. It was cold. And I was tired. And I had convinced myself that I was simply being paranoid, as everyone often told me I was too quick to look for the worst in people. I returned to my vehicle and let it idyll while it warmed up, and I became rather absorbed in writing up my on-call notes. So much so, that it wasn't until I had nearly filled up my log book that I noticed all the people running up and down the street. I immediately jumped out of my car and that’s when I heard the gun shots. I ran as fast as I could towards the sound and soon realised that it was coming from the Lancelot Bank. That group of Father Christmases was robbing it. I called for backup, but they said it was going to take at least fifteen minutes for it to arrive; and I knew I couldn't wait that long. So, I snuck inside and inadvertently came face-to-face with one of the robbers. He was holding a teller hostage. The teller was a young man around my age, and he kept darting his eyes towards his station, clearly trying to direct my attention towards something, or in this case, someone. Hidden underneath his station was a small child; a little boy with blonde hair and cerulean-blue eyes. Although the teller was in grave danger, getting the child to safety became my top priority. Before I could formulate a plan, the teller suddenly lunged himself at the robber and tackled him to the ground, which then allowed me time to pull the young boy from out of his hiding spot. Back-up arrived just as I ran outside with the child in my arms. And that’s when I heard it. A singular, deafening gun shot that filled the air. I knew it meant the boy’s father had been killed, but I continued to focus on keeping the child safe.” Harry stared down at his trembling hands.
“It was bring your pup to work day or some shit like that,” Eggsy whispered after a long period of silence. “I used to love going with my dad to his job at the bank and seeing the big volts. Used to ask ‘em if we could dive into the money like Scrooge McDuck. I don't remember the actual robbery all that much. Shrinks told my mum it was ‘cause my brain purposely blocked out parts of that memory to protect itself, or something like that. But I do remember a brave man running with me in his arms and waiting with me, and holding my hand in the back of the ambulance until my mum came. That was you, huh?”
“Yes. It was me. I regret that I failed to recognise your surname before now. I have spent many years and thousands in therapy trying to forget that awful day. Eggsy, I'm so terribly sorry. I’m sorry that I failed you. I...”
“Hush up!” Eggsy snapped, and Harry was slightly taken aback. “Don't you go apologising for something that ain't your fault. What happened to my dad was fucking terrible, but you ain't the one who pulled the trigger. You risked your life and got me to safety that day. I'm still standing here today ‘cause of you. I went on to become Ollie’s mum because of YOU.” The omega gently cradled the alpha’s face in his hands, wiping away the single tear that rolled down the older man’s cheek. “You's been my knight in shining armour from day one.”
Harry searched Eggsy's face for any hint of a lie, and found nothing but truth and admiration. Then he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.
The kiss started in low, then it started to grow, as a month’s worth of tension and repressed feelings quickly rose to the surface.
They explored each other’s mouths with heated passion, and Harry pulled Eggsy into his lap. The omega made the most adorable and tantalising moans of pleasure, and the alpha wanted nothing more than to take him right then and there. But he wouldn't. Eggsy deserved a proper courting and he was going to give it to him. He was going to give his omega the world.
“YES!” Ollie squealed, jumping up and down in the entryway.
“Och! I just lost my appetite,” Merlin groaned, and then hissed when Roxy slapped him upside the head.
Harry and Eggsy quickly pulled apart, wiping off their lips, keeping their eyes downcast, as if they were a bunch of naughty schoolboys who had just been caught by the headmaster.
Ollie ran to his mother and crawled into his lap. “You and Mr. Harry love each other?
Eggsy and Harry looked at each other and started rambling off different answers at the same time.
“I think it’s safe to say, that your mother and I care about each other very much,” Harry eventually landed on.
“So, you is gonna get married now?”
More rambling poured out of their mouths until they eventually settled on a unified response along the lines of, “We’ll just have to wait and see,” but it was obvious to everyone in the room that this was the start of something wonderful.
“As much as I hate to interrupt this touching moment,” Merlin chimed in. “The party is in less than twenty-four hours. Perhaps we should get this show on the road?”
“Always such a romantic,” Roxy sighed, rolling her eyes at her husband.
“Nah, he’s right,” Eggsy agreed, reluctantly pulling away from Harry. “There's still so much to do.”
The omega rose to his feet and began reciting his menu to himself, mentally reviewing everything that he needed to get done, and Harry took that as his cue to get moving too.
---- ----
“You and Roxanne really seemed to hit it off,” Harry said to Eggsy later that evening.
They were snuggled together on the settee, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace, while Ollie lay underneath the tree, quietly drawing and colouring pictures.
“Yeah, Rox is aces. She thinks I should start posting videos online of me cooking. Even tried to convince me to do a live feed during the party. Don’t know who’d wanna watch that, but I might do it.”
“I think that is a brilliant idea.”
“You do?”
“Yes, it would be great exposure for you. While I do not like the idea of sharing you with other people,” he teased, “It could help you build a following and perhaps even lead to lucrative business opportunities. Trust Roxanne, she is very good at what she does.”
“She and Merlin make an interesting pair, huh?”
“Yes, she certainly keeps Hamish in check.”
“Meant to ask you earlier, where’s the nickname come from?”
“From our days as recruits. They gave one to each of us. Our commander happened to be fond of Welsh folklore and so he nicknamed us after the knights of the round table.”
“What's yours then? Oi! Come on, tell me!” Eggsy pleaded, sitting up straight and folding his hands together. “I'll put on Ollie’s favourite song,” he threatened quietly.
“You wouldn't dare,” Harry challenged.
“Wanna make a bet?”
“Galahad,” Harry quickly supplied.
“Galahad? Ain't he like, the pure one?”
“Sir Galahad was known for his bravery, purity, and gallantry. He was, in essence, the perfect knight,” Harry affirmed.
“Sounds about right. Except for the whole purity part. Ain't no way someone so pure would kiss as sinfully as you do,” Eggsy wiggled his eyebrows, then squeaked when Harry attacked his lips with his own. “Oi! Hey Olls? Wanna listen to them Jingle Bells?” he snickered, then screamed when Harry pinched his bottom.
“YES! Mr. Harry, you have to sing with me!”
Chapter Text
*Trigger Warning: sexual language, unwanted advances, minor violence, demeaning language.
“Harry, these sweet and spicy meatballs are simply divine. You must give me the name of your caterer.”
“I would be happy to, Clara,” he replied, handing her one of the business cards he had made for Eggsy.
The party had only just begun and he’d already been approached multiple times by guests complimenting him on the food. To say that he felt proud of his omega would be an understatement.
He made his way through the close-knit crowd, stopping to greet people and engaging some of them in light conversation along the way, until he eventually landed at the food station, where he found Merlin playing a game of Tetris with his plate of hors d’oeuvres.
“Enjoying yourself, Hamish?” Harry chuckled, as he watched the Scotsman expertly pile an enormous amount of food onto a tiny plate.
“Och! Ye know how I feel about these types of things,” the Scotsman scoffed. “Nae, I would rather stay home and cosy up with a good book and Mr. Denver any day.”
Harry’s lip curled at the mention of the god-awful creature that Merlin called a cat.
“Oh, sweet ginger, that's heavenly,” Merlin moaned around a fried haggis ball, and then promptly stuffed another into his mouth before he even finished chewing the first one.
“You must try one of those with the whisky mustard sauce,” Harry suggested, taking the liberty of adding a dollop to the man’s plate.
“Aye. That is fucking spectacular!” Merlin broadcasted to the room, turning quite a few curious heads. “Whatever ye do, Harry, ye hold onto that omega of yers. Dinnae let him get away.”
“I fully intend to,” Harry avowed.
“Good evening, gentlemen!” Percival greeted them with a bright and cheery smile. “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”
”Aye,” Merlin hummed with his mouth full.
“Harry, thank you again for being such a gracious host. Everything looks terrific.”
“It’s my pleasure, sir.”
“Merlin, where is your delightful other half?” Percival asked, fixing himself a plate.
“One of her clients had a book signing this evening, but she will be along shortly.”
“Well, I look forward to catching up with her. Oh my, this is delicious!” Percival exclaimed after biting into a mini-quiche. “Harry, this personal chef of yours is truly amazing.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How did you find him again?”
Harry exchanged a worried glance with Merlin and they quickly tried to come up with a cohesive story together, but were doing a rather piss poor job of it.
They really should have practiced their story beforehand, all things considered.
“You two are rubbish at keeping secrets, “Percival snorted, taking another bite. “It’s a good thing you pursued a career in law enforcement and not espionage. Do you honestly think I don't know what goes on in my own precinct?”
Harry swallowed thickly. “I assure you the young man has more than made up for his past transgressions, sir.”
“I'm sure he has. I trust you, Harry. But I wouldn't be doing my job properly if I didn't hold you both accountable for your actions; taking the law into your own hands. Tisk, tisk, gentlemen.” Harry and Merlin paled. “I tell you what's going to happen. Harry, this chef of yours is going to cater every single one of our events for the foreseeable future, and the two of you will be on court duty for the next three months,” he smiled warmly.
“That's-thank you, sir. That’s more than fair and very kind,” Harry replied, a little shaken and visibly relieved.
“Well, they don’t call me the ‘worlds best boss’ for nothing,” Percival jested. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.” He clapped them both on the back, and then moved onto other guests.
“May I remind you, there are a ton of witnesses present. You will never get away with whatever you have planned,” Harry quietly cautioned Merlin, as he took a step back.
“I'm nae gonna kill ye, Harry.”
“Pardon?”
“Court duty is a small price to pay to finally see ye happy. It's been too long, my friend.”
“Why, Hamish. I'm truly touched.”
“Aye. Consider it yer Christmas present,” the Scotsman grumbled. “Och! All these feelings... I need a drink to cleanse myself. Care to join me at the bar?”
“I will meet you there in a moment. I want to check in with my omega first.”
—— ——
Harry had almost made it to the kitchen when the front door opened and in walked some more guests.
“Good evening, Roxanne. I'm so glad you could make it,” Harry stopped to greet the petite blonde, as she stepped inside the house accompanied by an oddly familiar face.
“Hello, Harry. I hope things are going well?”
“Very well,” he beamed, taking her coat. He then turned to greet her guest. “Hello, I do not believe I have had the pleasure?”
“Oh, yes,” Roxy piped up. “Harry, this is Charles Hesketh. We’ve just come from his book signing over at Bors Books. Charles this is my dear friend, Harry Hart.”
“Are you ever going to call me Charlie?” the young man jested, and then turned his attention to Harry. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Oh my! W-welcome! Roxanne gifted me a copy of your holiday cookbook. I must say, I was rather impressed by your inventiveness.”
“Thank you, it's always nice to meet a fan,” Charlie chuckled, confidently.
“If it’s not too much of an imposition, I would love to introduce you to our chef for the evening?” Harry asked. “I planned on gifting him a signed copy of your cookbook for Christmas, but I think meeting you would mean so much more.”
“Lead the way,” the famous young chef replied, enthusiastically.
---- ----
Eggsy skillfully moved around the kitchen at lightning speed, assisting all of the hired servers with refilling their trays.
“Thank you all so much for your help. You're doing a great job!” Eggsy folded his hands together and bowed his head in thanks before sending them all back out into the masses. He then turned his attention to Ollie, who was sat on a stepping stool placed in front of the stove, intently watching the digital timer. “And you, my little sous chef, have been such a big help tonight,” he said, wrapping his arms around him and placing a big kiss on his cheek. “I couldn't have done any of this without you.”
“Thank you, momma. Four minutes!” he held up four fingers and then went back to keeping a vigilant eye on the next batch of mini quiches, as he took his job of ‘zoo chef’ very seriously.
Eggsy chuckled and whipped a tea towel over his shoulder, then leaned back against the counter, smiling proudly at the scene around him.
“How is it going in here, darling?” Harry asked, poking his head into the kitchen.
“Well Harry, I don't mean to brag none, but I think I’m fucking acing it,” the omega beamed.
“Ommm, momma!” Ollie’s brows furrowed in disapproval and he wiggled a finger at his mother without ever glancing away from the stove. Eggsy offered him a laughing apology.
“Indeed, you are, my dear. Everyone is raving about the food. If Hamish wasn't married, I would be worried about him trying to steal you away.”
“Oi! Ain't no one else ever gonna steal me away. I’m all yours.” Eggsy stood on his tiptoes and pecked the alpha's lips.
“I have a little surprise for you. That is, if you are not too busy?” Harry was practically bouncing with excitement.
“Nah, I’m on break at the ‘mo. What kind of surprise?” he asked eagerly, fully expecting Harry to pull something out of his pockets. That’s why his brows furrowed in confusion when the older man suddenly turned on his heels and walked out of the room.
Eggsy wasn’t sure if he was supposed to follow him or what. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait very long for an answer, as Harry returned just a few short seconds later.
But this time, he wasn’t alone.
“May I introduce you to this evening's chef. This is Egg—
“Eggy?”
“Charlie.”
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes darted back and forth between the two young men, who were engaged in an intense stare down. “Do you two know each other?”
The kitchen was eerily quiet, apart from the sound of guests merrily mingling on the other side of the door.
“You look good, Eggy,” Charlie said huskily, finally breaking the silence.
“Harry, take Ollie out of here,” Eggsy ordered, keeping a cold gaze locked on Charlie. “Now, please.”
Harry stiffened at the sound of the omega's authoritative tone, but quickly obliged.
“One more minute, momma!” Ollie shouted in protest, as Harry carried him out of the room before the oven timer went off.
“I see you kept it,” Charlie huffed. “At least it didn't destroy your figure. Your arse still looks li—
A sharp slap across the face sufficiently silenced any additional filth that was about to spill from the alpha's vile mouth.
“You will not talk about MY pup that way,” Eggsy snarled in warning.
Charlie rubbed his cheek where a burning handprint had already formed on his skin, growling lowly at the omega. “Good to see you haven't lost your spark. You were always a feisty little thing.”
The alpha walked around the kitchen like he owned the place and helped himself to some of the excess hors d'oeuvres sitting on the island.
”Just make yourself at home,” Eggsy scoffed sarcastically, taking the quiches out of the oven, while keeping one eye on the alpha at all times.
“Mmm! Now this is delicious,” Charlie moaned as he bit into one of the apricot brie bites. “What's in this? Is it sage?”
“Oi! Have you come here to steal more of my recipes? Haven't you made enough money off me already?”
“Oh, Eggy. Like they would have done you any good. I did you an favour. Omegas can't be professional chefs, you know that,” he grinned wickedly.
“Neither can you, apparently. Seeing as how you had to steal all your recipes and ideas from a lowly omega,” Eggsy raised his chin defiantly. “How do you sleep at night knowing that you're nothing but a big fraud, huh?”
“Quite comfortably, actually. Much more than you, I'm sure. I do think of you from time to time, though,” the alpha added softly.
“Give me a fucking break,” Eggsy scoffed.
“No, seriously I do. Every time my bank account surpasses another million thanks to your brilliant ideas, I wonder to myself, what would Eggy do with all of this money and fame? Then I make a toast to your existence and buy myself another yacht.”
Eggsy growled loudly. “Yeah, you're right. I don't got millions in the bank, or book deals, and my face ain't plastered up on billboards, or across every telly like yours is, but at least I have my fucking dignity, bruv.”
Charlie clutched his stomach and laughed. “Dignity? Oh, Eggy. You're a chav from the estates playing “chef” in someone else's kitchen, a college dropout, and the mother to a bastard. What's dignified about any of that?”
“I want you to get the fuck out of this house,” Eggsy hissed.
“I would mind my manners if I were you,” Charlie warned him, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “How do you think it’ll look if you kicked ME, out of your kitchen, simply because you couldn't take a little bit of criticism? Your pathetic attempt at a culinary career would be over before it began.”
Eggsy’s lip quivered with anger. He knew Charlie was right. Once again, the alpha had a leg up on him, and there was nothing he could do.
Charlie’s eyes darkened as he sensed the omega’s defeat. “I really don't wanna fight with you, baby. It's the holidays and my rut is coming soon. So, what do you say we bury the hatchet and see if we can't recreate some of that magic we used to have back in uni, hmm? Maybe make a little brother or sister for your pup?” he leaned in towards Eggsy and caressed his cheek.
“I'd rather kiss a toilet seat,” Eggsy spat.
Charlie snarled and grabbed him around the waist. “Now you listen to me you little bitch! I wo—
Whatever the alpha was about to say was cut off by Harry grabbing hold of him and slamming him up against the wall like he was a rag doll.
“I will kill you if you ever touch MY omega again!” Harry roared.
“Help! Someone get this lunatic off me!” Charlie screamed desperately.
“What is going on here?” Percival demanded, as he and Merlin raced into the kitchen, followed closely by a livid-looking Roxy.
“Harry, let the lad go,” the Scotsman coaxed him, holding up his hands like he was in a standoff with a wild animal.
It took some time, but Harry eventually released Charlie from his death grip, all the while staring him down.
The young man scrambled to put some space between them and barricaded himself on the other side of the island, as if a block of wood would protect him from the older alpha’s rage.
Harry calmly adjusted his cufflinks and straightened his tie before moving to stand next to Eggsy.
“That animal attacked me for no reason!” Charlie pointed at Harry.
“I assure you that my actions were justified, sir. He laid a hand on my omega.”
“We were just talking!” Charlie screeched.
Percival held up a hand, silencing the heated alphas and then turned his attention to Eggsy. “Mr. Unwin, can you tell me what happened, please?”
Eggsy was shaking from head to toe. He knew that if he grassed up Charlie then he could kiss his chances of becoming a real chef goodbye for good this time, but he couldn't betray Harry. He looked into his alpha's kind brown eyes and suddenly felt a renewed sense of self.
“Mr. Hesketh attacked me,” Eggsy said loud and clear. “He became enraged after I refused his advances and called him out on being a fraud.”
“The omega's lying,” Charlie scoffed. “We knew each other back in culinary school and he thinks just because we cooked together once or twice that he should be entitled to my empire.”
“He’s the one that’s lying!” Eggsy rebuked. “You guys know all the so-called ‘thought-provoking’ and award winning recipes that he’s famous for? Well, he fucking stole them all from me when we dated back in uni. His Daisy Shortbread Cookies? I came up with that recipe ‘cause daisies used to grow outside my Council Estates flat growing up, and we’s couldn’t afford to buy fancy shit from no bakery. I would make ‘em every year for my mum’s birthday. And his famous Fried Oat Cakes? I practically lived on oatmeal ‘cause we could always count on the Food Bank having enough to go around, and the cakes last longer if you fry ‘em. I could go on and on. You see, these recipes weren’t designed for busy professionals like all his stupid books and television shows claim. They were designed for people like me who needed to make something out of nothing. Just ‘cause people are poor, don’t mean they deserve to live on scraps.”
“You have zero proof to support your ridiculous claims, omega!” Charlie spat. “I came here, out of the kindness of my heart, only to be attacked and insulted. My solicitors are going to hear about this!”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re already aware of the situation,” Roxy chimed in. “After all, you just confessed to committing fraud in front of thousands of people.” She picked up her mobile and read, “467,019 to be exact. Oh, and the views keeps going up.”
“I beg your pardon, views?” Harry asked, shaking his head in confusion.
“Oh my days! I forgot all about the camera!” Eggsy gasped, dashing towards the refrigerator and removing a rounded object that looked more like a large magnet than a camera lens.
“As I told Eggsy the other day, social media is the perfect platform for an inspiring chef to gain some exposure and to build a following. We set up this camera earlier and have been broadcasting live ever since. The response has been overwhelming positive, too. Viewers have immensely enjoyed watching him cook with his son’s help this evening. And you know what else is trending?” Roxy smirked. ‘Hashtag Hesketh is a fraud.’ It seems that Charles’ little confession earlier has gone viral. And now the public knows that he stole all of his recipes from Eggsy.”
“I…. I….” Charlie stammered.
“Well, it’s clear why ye had to build a career based on lies,” Merlin snorted, “Not exactly an eloquent lad, are ye?”
Charlie growled. “This isn’t over, Eggy! If you think for one second that you’re going to take away everything that I’ve built, you’re sorely mistaken!”
“You have not built anything, Mr. Hesketh,” Harry corrected him. “Your entire career can be attributed towards this young man’s genius and pure talent.”
“You know what, Charlie,” Eggsy spoke up and moved closer to the disgruntled alpha. “I’ve spent years hating your fucking guts. I used to lay awake at night wondering what I ever did to deserve your cruelty, and what I was gonna tell my pup about his dad when he asks me about him someday. But now I feel nothing. I look at you and feel hollow inside. You no longer take shelter inside of my soul. And my pup ain’t ever gonna have to wonder about his real dad ‘cause he’s standing right here,” Eggsy grabbed hold of Harry’s hand. “So, thanks. Thanks for abandoning me, and for betraying me, and for cheating me. I never would have gotten to where I am without you.”
“Gentlemen, would you be so kind as to help me take out the rubbish?” Harry asked, and Percival and Merlin gladly aided him with forcibly removing the disgraced former chef from the kitchen.
“Get your hands off me! Don't you know who I am!” Charlie kicked and screamed as he was dragged out of the house.
Roxy was pacing around the kitchen talking on her mobile, caught up in what appeared to be an intense conversation with her publishing company.
Eggsy breathed a sigh of relief, then sought out his child.
Guests smiled at him, and some clapped him on the back as he passed by, while others were busy replaying the viral incident on their mobile devices.
He found Ollie in the sitting room, huddled underneath the tree with other small children, admiring the twinkling lights, and blissfully unaware of the drama that had just unfolded.
“Eggsy, are you alright?” Harry immediately asked upon his return, checking the omega over.
“M’ alright, Harry. Swear down. I just can’t believe the truth is out now. Shit. M’ sorry I didn’t tell you about dickface sooner. Felt like I had to keep it a secret for so long ‘cause I didn’t think anyone would ever believe me.”
“I understand. And I hope you know that you can tell me anything. I do not want there to be any secrets between us.”
“Yes, Harry.”
“I suppose this puts a damper on what I had planned to give you for Christmas.”
“What do you mean?” Eggsy asked, and tilted his head curiously as the alpha removed a beautifully wrapped package from under the tree.
“I purchased it the day we visited Tristan and Kay’s,” Harry explained, as the omega tore open the wrapping paper, unveiling the “Holidays with Hesketh” cookbook. “I thought you might enjoy having a signed copy,” he mumbled sheepishly.
“HA! You know what, Harry? This is fucking aces.”
“It is?”
“Yeah. I overhead Roxy on the phone saying something about pulling it and his other works out of print. Guess that makes it priceless now, huh? We could use it as a coaster or something useful,” he sniggered.
Harry laughed heartily. “Oh, my omega. How I adore you.”
“I adore you too, my alpha. M’ real glad that I stole your wallet that day.”
“Oh darling, you stole more than just my wallet.”
Chapter Text
Harry simply had a wonderful Christmas time spoiling his omega and pup for the holiday.
It had taken them nearly two hours to open all their gifts the morning of the 25th, and the sitting room was littered with a disarray of hastily discarded wrapping paper, colourful ribbons, and bows.
Past Harry would have been fussing over such a mess, but Present-day Harry was far too preoccupied with assembling his child’s shiny new tricycle to even notice, or care.
Somewhat to Harry’s dismay, Ollie had discovered the simple joy of playing with empty boxes, and was currently having a blast pretending to be a rocketman soaring through the skies in a large cardboard spaceship.
”Oliver, don’t you want to try out your tricycle?” The alpha asked, ringing the bike’s handle bell.
“Maybe later, Daddy Harry. I’s got to go to the moon first.”
The older man wasn’t truly disappointed, though, as he enjoyed seeing the toddler happy more than anything.
They had converted the finished-basement into a play area for the toddler, and Eggsy shook his head fondly as he carried all the new toys down the stairs after Harry finished assembling them.
It seemed as though the older man had cleaned out nearly every toy shop in London in his excitement to provide for his new family, and the omega was working up a sweat from the numerous trips it was taking to put everything away.
---- ----
Eggsy was still dressed in his orange and black silk-pyjamas set that Harry had gifted him on the eve before, as he baked macaroon cherry pies to take over to Merlin and Roxy’s later on, where Brandon and Jamal would be joining them.
The alpha had also gifted him a brand new set of designer cookware and bakeware. The omega knew full-well that those particular gifts were self-serving, but he didn’t mind one bit, as he loved cooking for his family, and he was excited to use his new equipment to prepare for his upcoming mother-and-son major network cooking show, “Ollie Ollie Eggsy-free,” that was set to premiere in the New Year.
Eggsy felt incredibly lucky to have found such a kind, generous, and thoughtful alpha, who not only respected him, but loved both him and his pup to the moon and back.
And while the gifts were nice and all, and Eggsy very much appreciated everything, he didn’t need expensive things to know just how much Harry loved and cared for him.
But if he had to pick a favourite present… it would be the imperial jade ring currently sparkling on his left ring finger.
---- ----
Brandon and Jamal arrived at the Mycroft-Morton residence the same time that Harry and Eggsy pulled into the private drive, blasting Jingle Bells for the umpteenth time.
“Uncle Brandon! Uncle Jamal!” Ollie squealed as soon as his feet hit the pavement, and he ran to greet them.
“Oi! No running, Olls!”
”Sorry, momma!”
“Happy Christmas, kid!” Brandon picked up the toddler and gave him a squeeze. “You having a good day so far?”
”Uh huh! This is the bestest day ever!”
”Well, look what we have here!” Merlin called out from the front steps of his home, greeting the guests. He had on a tacky, colourful and illuminated jumper with a pair of reindeer performing a rather lewd act on it.
“Hi, Mr. Merlin! “I like your jumper! Is those reindeers having a party?” Ollie asked, innocently.
“Aye, lad. They’re doing the Conga,” the Scotsman lied, and the adults all snickered in unison.
”I begged him not to wear the horrid thing,” Roxy rolled her eyes, coming up from behind her husband and ushering everyone inside.
“I wear it every year. It’s tradition. It was a gift from Harry, after all.” Merlin grinned wickedly at his friend, enjoying the opportunity to throw him under the proverbial bus.
“Real nice,” Eggsy affectionately chastised his fiancé.
“It was a joke, darling, I assure you,” Harry replied, shooting the Scotsman a deathly glare.
”Roxy! Roxy! Guess what?” Ollie squeaked, bouncing on his heels.
“What is it, Ollie?” she replied, excitedly.
“Father Christmas came when we was sleeping and he, he bringed me sooo many new toys! Oh! And boxes, too!”
“I had no idea that empty cardboard boxes would be so popular,” Harry muttered under his breath, as he helped Eggsy remove his jacket.
The omega snickered. He was thoroughly enjoying witnessing Harry learn all the wonderful trades of being a parent.
“Well, I believe Father Christmas may have left ye some presents under our tree, as well. Why don’t we go and take a look, hmm?” Merlin tittered, and led the child into the sitting room.
“Oi! You lot are spoiling him!” Eggsy yelled out.
“I believe there’s something under the tree for you as well,” Roxy added, and Eggsy jokingly booked it towards the sitting room, too.
“Like mother, like son,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head, following after them.
---- ----
“Eggsy, have you had a chance to read the email that I sent you regarding the book deal?” Roxy asked him, as she passed around glasses of nice delicious, cold eggnog.
“Yeah, I did. And I can’t believe they want me to write a holiday cookbook.”
“Believe it. You’re a rising star, bruv,” Jamal smiled, raising a glass to his friend.
”Did you tell them about the fan mail?” Harry prompted his omega, bursting with pride.
”Fan mail?” Brandon repeated, excitedly.
“SO much fan mail,” Roxy affirmed. “Kingsman had to hire additional agents to keep up with it all. People from all over the world have been reaching out to express their support for Eggsy, and their distaste for Charles Hesketh. One letter even included a photograph of an omega tossing their Hesketh cookbooks into an open fire.”
“I’m gonna frame it,” Eggsy drawled.
”We’re happy for you, bruv,” Jamal said warmly. “No one deserves this more than you.”
”Just don’t go forgetting about us little folk when you hit the big time, now,” Brandon added.
”Never!” Eggsy avowed.
“So lad, did ye get everything ye asked Father Christmas for?” Merlin asked Ollie, as they worked to piece together a miniature train set on the floor in front of the tree.
“Mmhhmm. I asked Father Christmas to make momma happy and he did. See!” he pointed at Eggsy. “Momma is happy ‘cause now we’s gots Daddy Harry and we is all gonna live happy ever after.”
Eggsy drew in a sharp breath and his eyes glistened with tears. “Baby, when did you—“ he suddenly recalled the night that Ollie had whispered his wish into Father Christmas's ear at the festival a few weeks back. He then sank down to the floor and hugged his toddler tight. “Being your momma is the greatest honour of my life. Thank you for being the most wonderful little boy a momma could ever ask for. I love you, oh so much.”
“Love you too, momma.”
A quiet sniffling could be heard coming from each person in the room.
The child soon returned his attention to helping the Scotsman put together his new toy, while Harry lovingly comforted his omega.
“Well,” Roxy said, eventually breaking the silence. “I hope everyone is hungry. The food will be here in about an hour and I ordered enough to feed a small army.”
Eggsy was looking forward to sitting back and enjoying someone’s else’s food for a change; he needed a little break after having cooked for the Christmas party. He also needed to reserve some of his culinary energy for his future professional endeavors. Chef Unwin was going places, after all.
---- ----
Merlin and Harry busied themselves with making the drinks, while Jamal and Brandon set the table, and Roxy went to greet the delivery person at the door.
Eggsy quickly ducked into the loo to splash some cold water on his face, and then took a moment to look at himself in the mirror. His eyes were slightly puffy from crying so many happy tears that day, but it didn’t matter, as he could finally gaze at his reflection with confidence and see the same potential that Harry had seen in him that fateful day.
He dried himself off and was about to rejoin the others when his toddler suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream.
“AAARRRGGHH!”
“Ollie! What’s wrong? What—AAARRRGGHH!”
Everyone ran into the dining room to see what was the matter.
”What is it, lads?”
“Hate to break it to ya, Merlin. But you guys have got a serious rat problem!” Eggsy squealed, standing on a dining chair with Ollie in his arms.
Harry knelt down and looked under the table, fully prepared to capture a rodent, and then let out a barking laugh.
Mr. Denver meowed purringly and sauntered out from under the table, his tail held high as he rubbed affectionately up against the Scotsman’s legs.
Merlin cooed at the cat and held him up. “This is nae a rat, lads. This here is my Sphynx, Mr. Denver.”
“Uh-uh! That ain’t no cat! Cats have fur!” Eggsy rebuked. “That’s more like a gremlin or something.”
Harry turned and smiled victoriously at the Scotsman.
“Och! Ye two are bloody perfect for each other.”
***
And to all, a good night (The End 😉)
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