not how it's supposed to go

by gingerpolyglot

Summary:

Harry comes back from the dead expecting a dramatic reunion with Eggsy. That's...not quite what happens.

Notes:

title from the Ashe song of the same name and me mishearing the lyrics as "this mansion set you free" *facepalm*

I am not even going to attempt Eggsy's accent (or Merlin's), but I'll do my best to capture their cadences and vocab. Definitely let me know if something feels off!

Chapter 1

Harry is not pacing. 

Gentlemen do not pace, or wring their shaking hands, or tap their fingers on the table, or display any other tic of the sort, and gentleman spies certainly do not have such obvious tells. 

Perhaps he is a tad anxious. Maybe a mite concerned, even a bit worried - but you wouldn't know it by looking at him, because he isn't pacing. 

Merlin watches him out of the corner of his eye with an amused twist to his lips that makes Harry wonder if he can hear his internal monologue. 

Harry does his best to focus on preparing himself for the meeting ahead, but he can't help glancing toward the end of the room every few seconds. The heavy door opens with a whisper of wood on carpet and Harry clasps his hands behind his back - just in case.

Alas, neither of the first Knights to enter is the one he is most eager to see. Kay and Gawain are good agents with excellent poker faces, so their surprise at seeing a dead man standing at the head of the Table is betrayed only in a tiny raise of the eyebrows and a brief glance at Merlin for confirmation. Harry relaxes minutely at the encouraging first reactions. If everyone responds similarly this meeting should be smooth sailing. 

Merlin had sent out the summons to all of the Knights, who are slowly beginning to trickle in from the various corners of the mansion and join Kay and Gawain at the Table. He receives various exclamations of surprise and welcome from agents he'd been closer with and small nods of acknowledgement from the rest. 

Lancelot shakes his hand firmly and tells him welcome back, but she also gives Merlin a sharp look he doesn't have context for. Merlin's responding grimace is even more unsettling. 

Finally, all the Knights present in HQ are assembled except Galahad. Of course Eggsy is the last to arrive; Harry would be annoyed if he hadn't been informed by an amused Percival that Eggsy was being detained by medical and would arrive as soon as he'd been cleared. 

Harry would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about how Eggsy would react to seeing him again. He'd imagined the scene over and over, never sure that he could predict exactly what his protégé would do. He expected surprise, perhaps even disbelief. He'd braced himself for anger and betrayal: Merlin had told him Eggsy hadn't taken his death well, and it wasn't a stretch to assume that the young man would be upset at being kept in the dark about his survival.

Would he yell at him or swing a punch? Harry rather thought he'd let him if he did, he certainly deserved it. Would there be a tearful embrace? Loath as he'd be to see Eggsy upset, Harry had to admit that he wouldn't mind a chance to hold him, even just a "I'm glad you're alive" hug.

He'd dreamed up other versions too, in the rare moments that he stopped pretending that he wasn't arse over teakettle for his candidate. Harry knows his feelings for Eggsy are not exactly gentlemanly. He'd done all that he could to suppress them during training, but he couldn't deny that he'd been anxiously awaiting Eggsy's induction into Kingsman: with Eggsy Knighted they'd at least be closer to equals in position, if not experience. 

Once they were on even footing, he might have considered dropping a hint or two, poking gently at Eggsy to see if it were at all possible he might return his affections. No small amount of his anger at Eggsy in the wake of the dog test had been over losing the chance to explore that potential.

Bored out of his mind in the hospital, his latent romanticism had rather run away with him. He'd fantasized about emotional confessions and relieved embraces, maybe even a kiss...but that was highly unlikely, he always reminded himself. As smitten with Eggsy as he was there was no chance the boy felt the same way, not for a stuffy old man like Harry. Still, he had occasionally let himself dream. 

At long last the door opens again to reveal Eggsy and Harry drinks him in, admiring how well he wears the beautifully-cut suit and wincing over the fresh scrape on his forehead. He'd seen some footage of Eggsy's missions since V-Day, but it wasn't nearly the same as seeing him in person. He straightens himself one last time and stands quietly next to Merlin, waiting for Eggsy to notice him.

The younger man scans the room, giving a concerned glance to Lancelot who is watching him apprehensively. His eyes pass over Harry and Merlin as he moves to take his seat before he freezes and jerks his head back to the head of the table. 

Harry runs through all the scenarios he'd dreamed up. Will Eggsy punch him? Cry? Laugh? Kiss him? 

Eggsy does none of these things, instead raising a hand to rub his forehead and turning to Merlin. 

"Merlin, I think I need to go back to medical," he says. Merlin furrows his brow.

"Of course lad, but I thought they just cleared you." 

Eggsy nods, then winces. "Yeah they did, but see, I think I'm hallucinating and I didn't think the concussion was that bad." 

This concerns Merlin until he sees the way Eggsy's eyes keep darting between him and Harry, who is standing frozen a foot or so to his left. Merlin will deny it as long as he lives, but a small piece of his heart breaks as he realizes what conclusion Eggsy has drawn. He tries to school his face into something gentle.

"No, lad," he starts. "You're not hallucinating. Harry-"

"I'm alive," Harry interjects. This is it, he thinks. He can see the wheels in Eggsy's head turning. This is the moment that Eggsy will smile at him or start shouting or-

"Oh," Eggsy says, very softly. His face is blank as a white wall, and without another word he takes his seat at the Table. 

All of Harry's trains of thought crash into each other. The Eggsy that Harry remembers wore his heart on his sleeve; not being able to read his every emotion and thought is like waking up and realizing he can't read his favorite book. Harry stares at what he can see of Eggsy's head over his chair. Still reeling, he takes his own seat as Merlin opens the meeting. 

The meeting itself goes smoothly. Harry is reinstated as an agent and promptly voted in as Arthur, various Knights (but not Eggsy) speaking up about his qualifications and seniority. No one mentions his new limitations. Unanimous vote concluded, everyone toasts to his good health and the meeting is adjourned. 

Harry immediately turns to see what Eggsy will do - with a brief flash of hope, he considers that perhaps Eggsy wished to reunite in private, instead of in front of the whole of Kingsman? But no, while the now officially re-confirmed Galahad isn't running from the room, neither is he lingering. 

He waits for Lancelot to stand and she takes his proffered arm, squeezing gently. She then ushers him out of the room at a measured pace that is in no way reminiscent of a tactical retreat, and then they're gone. Harry sags in his chair (though he doesn't go so far as to slouch) and sighs heavily. 

Merlin claps a hand on his shoulder. "So I'm guessing that didn't exactly go the way you'd imagined, did it?" 

Harry glares at him. 

 

---

 

Harry says "I'm alive" and Eggsy's brain grinds to a halt. 

He'd had a rough mission in Peru and he'd fallen out of an exploding building onto a packed-dirt field, so he was bruised to hell and back on top of the ringing in his ears. Medical had cleared him, said the mild concussion was more from the blast than the fall and that as long as he was careful for a few days he should be fine, which is why when he sees a dead man standing in the Dining Room his first thought is that he probably needs a CT scan or an MRI or whatever it is neurologists do in order to figure out how fucked your brain is. 

Then Merlin tells him he's not hallucinating, and Harry speaks, and Eggsy processes several things in quick succession:

First, Harry is alive. He somehow survived being shot at point-blank range and barely has a scar to show for it.

Second, Harry is up and walking and seems to be in decent health all around, which means that Harry has been awake and recovering for at least a few months. 

Third, this is clearly not news to Merlin, who is evidently a far better actor than Eggsy had suspected. Merlin hadn't let on even a vague suspicion that something was amiss; Eggsy certainly hadn't had any idea that his erstwhile mentor was still alive, at least not beyond desperate bargaining when he was in the depths of his grief (or the bottom of a bottle).

It is this last point that sticks with him, and in the space of a few breaths he follows the logic. Merlin had known Harry was alive. The two of them had decided not to tell anyone Harry was alive - including Eggsy. Eggsy is smart enough to realize what an opportunity having a "dead" agent would be for Kingsman, but Harry had to have family, somewhere. 

If it'd been Eggsy, the first thing he would have insisted on was contacting his mum and Daisy, and maybe his mates. Roxy and Merlin too, assuming they didn't already know. But Harry had contacted Merlin, or Merlin had found Harry, and they decided no one else was important enough to know the truth - and Harry didn't care enough about any other person to tell them there wasn't any need to mourn. 

"Oh," he says, feeling small and naive. He calls on every ounce of practice he's ever had in keeping a poker face and does his best to hide the storm of betrayal and embarrassment swirling through him. He takes his seat and doesn't look at the head of the Table again for the whole meeting, though of course he votes for Harry as Arthur. 

He goes to Roxy after the meeting adjourns, offering his arm like a proper gentleman to hide his need for someone to ground him. She grasps his arm and gives him a reassuring squeeze, already whispering to him about plans with Ryan and Jamal and Tilde if she's in town to go out and get absolutely plastered. He nods absently and lets her guide him out of the room, refusing to look back. 

He knows he disappointed Harry before Kentucky, knows that Harry hadn't had any investment in Eggsy beyond repaying his father, but he'd still foolishly let himself believe that maybe some of it was for him, too. Maybe Harry had cared about him on his own merit. Clearly, he'd been wrong. 

Since he stormed out of Harry's house and into the confrontation with the previous Arthur, he's been trying to live up to the potential Harry saw in him as well as his legacy. He's done his best to be a good agent and a gentleman, and while things don't always go to plan he thinks he's done an alright job. Now, though, an "alright job" won't cut it. He won't give Harry any possible reason to regret proposing him, especially not over something as silly as some hurt feelings. 

He barely notices when Roxy shoves him into a cab and gives the address of some new club downtown. He listens to her tap away at her phone and stares out the window and resolves to be as professional as humanly possible going forward. 

He blinks when the cab pulls up. He mumbles a thanks as he and Roxy get out and he finally cracks a smile when he spots Ryan and Jamal hanging around the entrance looking intimidated. They light up when they spot him and give him some lighthearted ribbing about the suit, and they all head in. His mood is further improved when a statuesque blonde in a tiny blue dress plops down next to him, and suddenly Tilde is pressing a kiss to his cheek and smiling at him with an understanding tilt to her head. 

Eggsy looks over Tilde's shoulder and catches Roxy's eye where she's bantering with his boys and mouths "thank you." She smiles at him, then flags down a waiter and orders them all a round of shots. 

Two beers and another four rounds of shots later, Eggsy can feel his control slipping. They've all relaxed more as the booze keeps coming - Tilde's shoes have been abandoned and her feet are resting in Eggsy's lap, while he and Roxy have lost their ties and jackets. Ryan and Jamal are leaning into one another the way they do when they get tipsy, and finally Jamal looks Eggsy dead in the eye and asks the question they've been avoiding all night.

"You alright, mate?"

And Eggsy just breaks. He doesn't start bawling, but he finally lets go of the poker face he's been maintaining since Merlin told him he wasn't hallucinating. 

"He was just standing there," he says, "like nothing had happened." The three non-agents nod, so Eggsy assumes Roxy gave them the civilian version of what happened when she made the plans for tonight. 

"He just - he was fucking shot, in the fucking head, and he's just standing there like it's all fine and I haven't spent the past 18 months trying to deal, y'know? And no one told me! And I get it, I'm not family, I'm not anything to him, not now that I'm not even his candidate, but fucking hell, Merlin watched me grieve for months and never said anything!" 

Tilde shifts so her arms are wrapped around him, and god, this is why he loves her.  After he killed Valentine he'd meant to sweep into her room all suave-like, save the day and get the girl like in the movies, but as soon as the door had closed behind him and Merlin had muted his feed it was like the past two days had caught up with him at once and he'd just collapsed. 

Tilde, fucking goddess among women that she is, hadn't even blinked, just helped him onto the couch and held him and let him talk. Then he'd held her hand and let her talk about how she'd been betrayed by her own PM and how worried she was about her parents. After, she'd made him give her his number and told him that they were friends now and she expected to hear from him when she texted him. 

Ryan and Jamal give him sympathetic looks from their perch. 

"It's bloody bollocks, is what it is mate," says Ryan. Jamal nods in agreement. 

"Fuck," Eggsy exhales. "I just missed him so much," he says quietly, and apparently that's the tipping point where he starts crying. His mates let him cry and rant a bit longer before packing it in and taking him home. 

Everyone piles into his house and they camp out in the living room. Roxy is somehow the most sober despite drinking more than any of them so she makes the requisite run to the medicine cabinet for paracetamol and glasses of water. 

She snags a few spare blankets from the linen closet and dumps them on everyone when she returns. There are a few grumbles but they all grab a blanket and pass out where they are. Eggsy has sobered up just enough to poke Roxy where she's curling up next to him. 

"What?" she asks, half asleep. 
"You're the best, Rox," he says. "Thanks."
"Got your back, Galahad," she says with a smile. They both fall asleep soon after that. 

 

Michelle Unwin comes downstairs the next morning to find two international spies, a Swedish princess, and a couple of estate chavs in a puppy pile on the floor of her living room, complete with actual puppy curled up next to Eggsy's head. 

She debates not taking pictures for half a second before deciding that it's her right as Eggsy's mum, and if Ryan and Jamal's mothers also happen to get a copy? Well, the three of them have basically shared custody of the boys since they were in primary school, so it's only fair. 

Blackmail obtained, Michelle goes to the kitchen to start making breakfast - she does not envy the hangovers the kids are going to have when they wake up.

Chapter 2

Notes:

So clearly I can't be trusted with timelines, but I'm going to do my best to not make you guys wait more than a month at a time. I'm estimating this will wind up being 5 chapters and each chapter is partially written, it's just a question of editing and pulling it all together.
Thank you for all the comments and kudos!

Across London, Harry is not moping.

Harry is enjoying his third glass of frankly exorbitantly expensive Scotch and analyzing every second of his interaction with Eggsy over and over again in his head, and that is not moping, no matter what Merlin thinks. It's strategic research.

"You're moping," Merlin says. Harry glares at him. 

"Piss off," he replies. It's a far cry from his usual eloquence, but he's had a rather emotional day. He stares at his Scotch like it will help him decipher Eggsy's reaction, then gives up and downs the glass. 

Merlin tuts at him for drinking the good stuff like cheap vodka but refills his glass anyway. 

"I will not piss off, thank you. You're moping and it's ridiculous," he says.

"It's not ridiculous, and I'm not moping," Harry insists. Merlin gives him an unimpressed look and waits. 

Harry holds out for a few minutes, then breaks with a groan. 

"So what if I am? I pull off a genuine miracle, bring myself back from the dead, and all he can say is "oh"?" he says, frustrated and with the tiniest hint of a whine.

"Harry, the boy was concussed. He thought he was hallucinating at first. I wouldn't put too much stock in his reaction. Go talk to him when he's a little less scrambled and I'm sure you'll get whatever ridiculous reunion you've built up in your head," Merlin says.

Intellectually Harry knows Merlin is right, but that doesn't mean the small part of him that revels in theatrics isn't sulking just a bit about lost opportunities. Still, his rationality eventually wins out. Eggsy had received a shock on top of a concussion - once he was in a better state of mind, they'd be able to have a proper chat (and maybe he'd get his hug).

To his immense consternation, Harry has precious few opportunities to see Eggsy in the weeks that follow, much less have any sort of long conversation. The few times they do interact are purely work-related, and Eggsy is distant but professional. In fact, he's the consummate professional in everything he does. 

He goes out on missions and accomplishes his objective with startling efficiency. He turns in his reports on time and never drops the RP accent he's adopted. He doesn't talk back to anyone. He knocks before entering a room and asks to sit before doing so. He's never dressed in anything less than a full bespoke suit, hair combed and oxfords shined to perfection. He's everything Harry knew he could be, the perfect Kingsman agent and more importantly, the perfect gentleman.

Harry hates it. 

Don't get him wrong, he's beyond proud - he often feels he might burst with pride and the smug satisfaction that he'd been right (about Eggsy and Lee both) and Chester, may he rot in pieces, had been wrong. 

But he's also desperately sad that the bright, vivacious, and eager young man he'd first met outside Holborn police station appears to have been smothered by the gentleman who replaced him - because Eggsy does not maintain the front with just Harry. 

He's rather embarrassed to admit that he's taken to eavesdropping whenever he hears someone speaking with Eggsy. He tells himself that it's because he's trying to see if Eggsy ever drops the posh façade, but really it's because Eggsy hasn't spoken to him for longer than five minutes since he's been back and he'll take any opportunity to hear his voice. He's pathetic, he knows. Merlin would mock him for the next two decades if he knew (and he probably does, what with the cameras everywhere.)

But as far as Harry can tell, Eggsy maintains his new manners and mannerisms constantly. In every interaction, on a mission or in HQ or at the shop, he never once allows himself to relax into his natural accent and comportment. Harry's not sure which would have been worse, really: if Eggsy had singled him out and used courtesy and etiquette to keep Harry specifically at a distance, or the reality, where one could mistake him as one of the Oxbridge crowd with his very own silver suppository no matter the occasion or the company. 

He thinks sometimes that he'd have preferred to be singled out for the cold shoulder, if only because it would mean that Eggsy was affected enough by him to react. Then he might have some hope of eventually gaining his forgiveness, and he wouldn't have to worry that the brash and cheeky chav he'd known hadn't disappeared entirely. 

It pains him to admit it, but Harry would give almost anything to hear Eggsy call him "bruv" while wearing that hideous jacket and the ridiculous trainers. 

---

Eggsy is exhausted. He's been playing Perfect Gentleman Spy for five weeks now, and keeping up the façade is beginning to wear on him.  He's executing his missions flawlessly, turning in his paperwork complete and on time, and he's making sure his manners are at their absolute best at all times. He'll never admit it but he even read an etiquette book, just to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. 

His accent is perfect too - he marathoned all 10 episodes of The Crown and all six seasons of Downton Abbey to get it down, practicing in the mirror and talking to JB until RP felt as natural as his own decidedly less refined accent. 

Roxy had looked at him like he'd grown a second head the first day he'd whipped it out around HQ and Merlin had blinked at him for a moment before starting his briefing, but everyone else seems to be vaguely approving. He supposes he should chafe at that more, feed it into the chip Merlin says he still carries on his shoulder, but he honestly can't be arsed. He's determined to be a model agent, and if talking like a posh twit will help him earn the approval of his fellow agents, he's willing to do it. 

What he hasn't done is talk to Harry. He runs into him a handful of times in the first few weeks, passing each other on the bullet train or in the hall at HQ. Eggsy sticks to a simple nod and respectful "Arthur," but makes no attempt to impede Harry or interrupt his day. 

A few times Harry  had looked like he wanted to say something to him, but Eggsy has no interest in rehashing their argument from after the dog test. After the third time Harry starts to suggest they speak further only to be interrupted, Eggsy begins actively avoiding him.

It's relatively easy to dodge Harry when he's coming and going from missions. Merlin still handles his briefing and debriefing, and from what he's heard from the older agents there are relatively few reasons for Arthur to get personally involved in missions. In his downtime he occasionally comes across him somewhere in the manor, but he's not a trained spy for nothing and so far he's managed to avoid being alone with Harry for longer than a few minutes. 

His luck runs out about six weeks after Harry's miraculous return from the dead. As soon as he arrives at the tailor shop in the morning Eggsy is informed Arthur is expecting him, and it's with an even mix of trepidation and irritation that he makes his way to the meeting. 

Why did Harry have to go and summon him now? Their complete non-interaction had been working just fine. Maybe Eggsy was exhausted making sure he never messed up, but he'd keep doing it as long as he needed to and eventually he'd get used to it.

He pauses for a moment outside Harry's door to straighten his tie and cuffs and use his phone to check his hair, then knocks sharply on the heavy wooden door. He hears a faint "Enter," from within and does as he's bid, gently closing the door behind him. 

Harry is sitting at the large antique desk. Eggsy can't place the style or the period and makes a note to look it up later - an eye for expensive furniture is apparently yet another thing posh gentlemen are expected to have. Though Harry looks as proper as always in his suit, the desk is strewn with papers. The corner of his mouth ticks up when Eggsy enters and he stands to greet him.

"Arthur," Eggsy greets, standing at parade rest just inside the office.

"Eggsy, thank you. I know you've been very busy these past few weeks but I wanted an opportunity to speak to you personally - catch up, if you will," Harry says. 

Eggsy stares at him for a beat, then realizes Harry expects him to respond.

"Yes, of course. May I?" he asks, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of the desk. Harry looks bemused but nods and Eggsy takes a seat.

They sit in silence for a moment. It takes almost all of Eggsy's self-control not to fidget. Harry, for his part, looks like he's seriously regretting this meeting, which only makes Eggsy feel worse. 

"Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?" he finally asks, desperate to break the awkward tension. Harry looks relieved. 

"Yes, I-" Harry starts, then sighs and starts again. "I wanted to commend you on your excellent work closing up the Valentine case. You showed exemplary teamwork with Lancelot and exceptional judgement throughout."

Eggsy knows that's not what he was originally going to say, but he's not going to question it. 

"Thank you, sir," he says formally. Harry winces.

"You don't have to be quite so formal," he says. "In ordinary circumstances the Knight who proposed the successful candidate would continue to act in a mentoring capacity for the first few months of the new Knight's career. I regret that I wasn't able to do that for you, though you seem to have acquitted yourself remarkably well - I'm glad we were able to keep both you and Ms. Morton."

Eggsy does his best to keep his thoughts off of his face - this is closest either of them has come to talking about Harry's death and return since the day in the Dining Room. He's quietly pleased that Harry seems satisfied with his performance, but he knows that it isn't gentlemanly to preen so he restricts his reaction to a small nod.

"Thank you, sir - Harry," he corrects when Harry gives him a look. This earns him a small smile, and wow, Eggsy had forgotten just what that smile did to him. 

"I know Percival and the other agents have done a wonderful job stepping in where I...couldn't, these past few months," Harry says after a moment, "but I'd like to be able to pick up where they've left off. If you're amenable I'd like to have you stop by for tea, around once a week should suffice. It'll give us a chance to chat. We can discuss anything you have questions about or ways of handling some of the trickier situations you run into on missions. If you like I can also give you a bit more of a...bird's eye view, if you will, of the other moving parts of our organization." 

"Yes, that sounds lovely," Eggsy replies. 

It does not sound lovely. 

It sounds like the worst kind of torture - being forced to sit with Harry for an hour at a time, staring at him in his gorgeous suits and listen to him pick apart all of Eggsy's mistakes and find all the ways he's not measuring up. But what can he do? Roxy told him she does something similar with Percival, so he knows Harry isn't bullshitting him about it being tradition, and besides that he's Arthur. If Eggsy wants to keep his job - and he does, he really, truly does - then he doesn't have much of a choice in accepting. He pastes a smile on his face and Harry responds with an answering grin of his own.

Fuck. He's so fucked.

Chapter 3

Notes:

I'm alive? I swore I wouldn't abandon this and I have not! I make zero promises about how long the next chapter will take, but I I do promise I will get around to finishing this fic at some point, if y'all are willing to bear with me. Hope y'all enjoy!

Harry owes Perceival a debt of gratitude.

He'd been at a loss trying to find a way to steal a few minutes with Eggsy that wouldn't risk interruption from other agents or be too obvious or overly familiar until Perceival had mentioned something Lancelot said in one of their weekly mentorship chats, and Harry had seized on the idea with relief. He'd made room on his calendar as soon as he returned to his office and made a note for Eggsy to meet him there the next morning so he could inform him. He congratulates himself on this brilliant move with a nip of Merlin's secret office whisky and spends the rest of his day in high spirits.

If the next morning he chooses his suit with a little extra care and takes an extra few minutes on his toilette? Well, that's his business. He spends his first hour in the Manor working his way through the frankly astonishing amount of paperwork their operations generate, and only looks up when his alarm chimes, informing him Eggsy should be arriving in a few minutes. He puts away anything Eggsy doesn't have clearance to see and attempts to tidy his desk a bit.

At precisely 9:15 a sharp knock sounds on his door.

"Enter!" he calls out, and Eggsy does. Harry smiles a little at the care he takes not to let the heavy wooden door slam behind him, and stands to greet him.

"Eggsy, thank you. I know you've been very busy these past few weeks but I wanted an opportunity to speak to you personally - catch up, if you will," Harry says. Eggsy hesitates before responding.

"Yes, of course. May I?" he asks, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of the desk. This level of formality from Eggsy still feels foreign - honestly, he wouldn’t have minded if Eggsy had eschewed his manners for once and thrown himself into a chair - but he simply nods. Hopefully these chats will allow him to reestablish their previous familiarity. 

Silence reigns after Eggsy is seated, and it pains Harry to think of how stilted things have become between them. He thinks longingly of their easy few hours in his house before the dog test, but Eggsy pulls him from his thoughts before he can turn maudlin.

"Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?" he asks.

"Yes, I -" want to ask you if anything is wrong, want to take you to dinner, want to ask if you're even happy to see me alive "- I wanted to commend you on your excellent work closing up the Valentine case. You showed exemplary teamwork with Lancelot and exceptional judgment throughout," Harry says, instead of what he's truly thinking.

"Thank you, sir," Eggsy replies. Harry winces at the "sir" and the distance implied - but the title at least he can remedy.

"You don't have to be quite so formal," he says. "In ordinary circumstances the Knight who proposed the successful candidate would continue to act in a mentoring capacity for the first few months of the new Knight's career. I regret that I wasn't able to do that for you, though you seem to have acquitted yourself remarkably well - I'm glad we were able to keep both you and Ms. Morton."

Harry had hoped for more of a reaction than a small nod, but he'll take it.

"Thank you, sir - Harry," Eggsy says, and Harry doesn't bother to hide his smile at hearing his name in Eggsy's voice again. If this new version Eggsy is committed to his professionalism, Harry will simply have to take that as his starting point.

"I know Percival and the other agents have done a wonderful job stepping in where I...couldn't, these past few months," he says after a moment, "but I'd like to be able to pick up where they've left off. If you're amenable I'd like to have you stop by for tea, around once a week should suffice. It'll give us a chance to chat. We can discuss anything you have questions about or ways of handling some of the trickier situations you run into on missions. If you like I can also give you a bit more of a...bird's eye view, if you will, of the other moving parts of our organization."

"Yes, that sounds lovely," Eggsy replies with a smile. It's not quite the cheeky grin Harry spent so long missing, but he can't help but beam back anyway. They chat lightly for a few more minutes before Harry dismisses Eggsy to his meeting with Tech, and his good mood lasts him well into the rest of the week. Finally, he's getting somewhere.

The next few weeks are an exercise in patience. Eggsy has dropped some of the formality he'd clung to since Harry's return, and he's been more willing to stop and chat if they happen to run into each other around the Manor.

He's learned that Eggsy is surprisingly bashful when Harry praises him for his actions on missions, and it becomes a priority for Harry to find something new to compliment him on every week. It's the barest hint of the praise he wants to heap on Eggsy, but he's learned to his consternation that anything non-work related makes Eggsy retreat into his formality and manners. Part of him is convinced that he should back off, accept that Eggsy won't ever be interested in him as more than a mentor, but when he voices those thoughts to Merlin he's surprised to find his friend disagreeing with him.

"Eggsy...he's been a true asset since the Valentine clusterfuck," Merlin says carefully. "He spent months helping us get the world back on its feet, barely took a day off for the weeks he was on assignment, and he's still adjusting to a more normal balance. I think he's still getting his feet under him."

"And by all accounts he did marvelously - what does that have to do with anything?"

"He's getting used to someone actually being Arthur - and that someone being you. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd wager he's worried about how to balance you being Arthur with you being his mentor. The lad might be worried about crossing lines."

Harry manages not to groan aloud, but it's a close thing. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid by waiting until Eggsy was an agent to say anything: if he were still a regular Knight, this wouldn't be an issue - or at least, not the same way. 

At least he knows what the problem is now, and can start finding a way to reassure Eggsy that, Chester aside, their hierarchy has always been somewhat loose around interpersonal relationships, simply given the nature of their work.

---

Eggsy is slowly losing his mind. He's spent the past few weeks in forced proximity to Harry for an hour at a time, and he thinks the stress might actually kill him. When Harry had first proposed weekly teas Eggsy had feared Harry picking apart all of his missions and finding fault but the reality is somehow worse: Harry spends the whole time praising him. It's all he can do not to blush down to his toes, and it's done absolutely nothing to curb the stupid fucking crush he's been trying to stifle with renewed vigor since Harry came back.

Now he has to sit there and listen to Harry call him all sorts of lovely things, things no one had ever praised him on before like his instincts and his judgment calls and his decisions, and all in that voice - it's. Well. It's not a kind of torture that training had prepared him for, although Eggsy supposes his poker face has never been better.

Roxy and Tilde think it's hilarious. He'd gone to Roxy to complain after the first week and found her on a call with Tilde, so the two had listened to his woes and about died laughing at his misfortune.

"Oh, poor Galahad, his crush is complimenting him, how awful!" Roxy had teased.

Eggsy had groaned and collapsed on her couch, one arm covering his face.

"Your problems are so strange," Tilde had added.

"I hate you both," Eggsy had muttered.

"No you don't!" they'd chorused, and Eggsy had nicked one of Roxy's throw pillows to groan into as they continued to make fun of him.

The next week it had happened again, and at this point he had resigned himself to their endless teasing over his fully justified misery.

He can't even escape Harry around the Manor anymore either. Now that they're talking regularly he'd felt like a right coward avoiding him around HQ, so now he has to make small talk with him whenever they happen to cross paths, which happens surprisingly often given how busy Harry must be running the whole agency. If Eggsy were more suspicious of his coworkers he'd almost suspect Merlin of engineering the "chance" meetings - the man must have cameras everywhere. 

But while Eggsy still hasn't fully forgiven Merlin for his secrecy around Harry's survival, he can't imagine what he'd gain out of forcing Eggsy into small talk with Arthur. When he makes the mistake of telling Roxy, she laughs for a solid minute before suggesting that maybe Merlin is trying to set them up. Eggsy rolls his eyes, privately reassured that his feelings for Harry have remained a secret. There's no way Merlin would ever encourage a relationship between a green Knight and Arthur, even if he were pulling strings around HQ for some reason. 

When he's not ruminating on suspicious coincidences though, he's worrying about Tilde. The past few times they've spoken she's sounded stressed but refused to tell him why. He's taken to haunting the Intel department and poring over Swedish newspapers trying to figure out what could be bothering her. He hasn't gotten very far, and he's definitely pissed off the Head of Intel (Nimue is terrifying, he has learned) but beyond significant improvement in his Swedish he's had no luck. 

He's at least managed to make Tilde laugh with his poor pronunciation - reading newspapers is all well and good for vocabulary, but apparently he's still mangling his vowels.

He doesn't realize he's been spending quite so much time in Intel until Harry mentions it a few weeks later. 

He's so startled he fumbles his teacup and just barely manages to set it down with a clatter that makes him wince. Harry raises an eyebrow at the sound but otherwise doesn't comment, and Eggsy curses in his head. 

The old Eggsy would make some bratty quip about how he spends his time isn't any of Harry's business. Agent Galahad knows better, but is also realizing for the first time that what he's doing could theoretically be construed as using Kingsman resources for personal reasons, nevermind that Tilde is an international head of state. He searches desperately for an answer that might be acceptable, and finding none figures he can maybe spin the truth in his favor.

"I'm concerned about Princess Tilde," he says. Harry's too good a spy to betray his surprise in obvious ways, but Eggy's been studying him attentively for weeks now and he can tell he's taken aback. 

"And what has led you to that concern?" he asks. "Is there something we should be aware of? Do you think she might have knowledge about Valentine's contingencies?" 

Oh, fuck. It occurs to Eggsy for the first time that he has no idea how Merlin justified his glasses turning off in the aftermath of Valentine's death in any of the official reports. At the time he'd been too busy falling apart in Tilde's arms to be anything but grateful, and then he'd been too busy on missions to wonder. Now he realizes there's no way Merlin didn't write up a full mission report, and the likelihood of him excluding that particular tidbit is low. He decides to play it as safe as he can.

"No, I trust that she's communicated everything she could about Valentine's plans and operations. My concern is for her safety. The past few times we've spoken she's seemed stressed, and she's avoided leaving the country for several months now where she used to travel frequently." 

Unfortunately, his version of "safe" seems to have had the opposite effect - Harry looks somehow even more surprised, not less.

"I wasn't aware you and Her Highness were in communication," he says stiffly.

Shite. Is this some kind of protocol breach? Is he going to have to stop talking with Tilde?

"Yes, we became acquainted when I let her out of her cell in Valentine's bunker, and we kept in touch," Eggsy says slowly, hoping that's vague enough that it won't cause problems. A flash of emotion crosses Harry's face, gone between one blink and the next.

"Ah, I see," he says.

"It's not a problem is it? Merlin knows that we met and spent some time together, I assume he knows we're in contact. If I was mistaken, if it's a problem - "

"No!” Harry says, uncharacteristically sharp. “No, it's alright. As long as we can avoid any potential...conflicts of interest, your…personal relationships should be beyond our purview."

Eggsy sighs, relieved, and slumps back in his chair for a moment before catching himself. Harry's watching him with an inscrutable look.

"Forgive me, Eggsy, but I'm afraid I have to cut our time short today," he says. Eggsy startles, but stands and re-buttons his jacket.

"Of course, Harry - I'll see you next week, yes?"

"Yes, of course. I'll see you next week, Eggsy."

Eggsy beats a hasty retreat, only allowing himself to relax when he's safely hidden in the little alcove on the third floor that he'd discovered is a camera blindspot.

What the bleeding hell was that ?

Notes:

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