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Police had come around to talk to Dean, Eggsy gathers as much from Dean swinging and connecting with his face the moment Eggsy steps through the door. Eggsy must have grassed him up. He knows Eggsy doesn't want Dean around anymore, Dean tells him, not with Michelle pregnant, but Eggsy's just going to have to get used to it, doesn't he?
Mum must be asleep by now and all Eggsy can think, between Dean hitting him and Dean raging at him, is to try and calm Dean down, get him quiet. The shifts she’s working in prep for the baby are bad enough, so sleep is something hard to come by, and Eggsy finds himself pleading with Dean to calm down, he has no idea about the police, about any of it, Eggsy says.
Eggsy can hear how he sounds, hear the note of begging in his voice. But it hurts and everything is so loud and so he begs. Didn't open my mouth to no one, I swear--
That gets Dean quiet and Eggsy is grateful in the moment. It’s what he wanted, after all, and now he’s got it: Dean quiet, hand still at Eggsy’s throat but quiet and angry is something Eggsy can manage, can contain.
There's already the pieces of the cot for the baby, by the fridge, Eggsy was putting it together earlier, hadn't finished. A stray thought, out of place, why hadn't he fucking finished it before he left? Dean's looking at him steady now and Eggsy is suddenly aware of how fucking warm Dean is, all along his side.
Then Dean puts it simply: That's not what I heard.
The hand’s still on Eggsy’s throat when he says that and all Eggsy can hear now, over his breathing, over Dean’s anger, over everything, is the sound his clothes make against the wall as Dean starts to push him down, down to the floor, next to the hammer Eggsy was using for the cot, and he could, he could wrap his hand around it right now and he could--
Instead, voice so close to begging again Eggsy wants to swallow the words back up, he mutters, please, mum's asleep, please--
And Dean's small nod. Yeah. She is. He could wake her up if Eggsy wants. Do you want me to wake her up, Mugsy?
Eggsy shakes his head but Dean’s already nodding again like it’s a given, moving his hand from Eggsy's neck to Eggsy's jaw to Eggsy's mouth. And Eggsy letting him nudge it open with his thick fucking thumb and push his mouth open all the way
So Eggsy stays like that, as Dean feeds his dick slow into Eggsy's mouth until his head knocks against the wall. And then knocks again.
Hammer by his feet, mum sleeping in the room beside, door slightly ajar. Eggsy makes as little sound as he's able.
As quiet as he can.
Dean's too drunk, too angry to do anything but push his half-stiff prick into Eggsy's mouth and hold Eggsy there. Eggsy doesn’t try to struggle after the initial attempt to push Dean off, to try and pull away. But there's only so much quiet Eggsy can keep and keep Dean away.
Eggsy’s keeping his mouth as open wide as he can, teeth back, eyes as shut as he’s able until Dean is making sounds that seem so loud in the room that he has to open them. No telling when mum went to sleep and no telling when she’ll wake.
It's a choice between this or getting hit or his mum waking up and padding out and seeing Eggsy's face slick with blood and something else, so for what feels like hours but is probably only a couple of minutes, Eggsy holds himself very still and waits for Dean to realize he's not going to be able to get what he wants from this.
He gives up eventually, pushing at Eggsy's face with a curse and giving him a kick to the stomach to keep him on the ground as Dean pads his way back to the bedroom, and to the bath. The noise of him turning on the shower will be enough to wake Michelle, so Eggsy takes the split second to try and breathe, before pushing himself off the floor and out the door.
He still can't seem to get air in, feels his chest shake with the effort, and everything inside his face tastes and smells and feels like Dean's still there, still bearing down, still holding his nose shut so Eggsy has to open his mouth and let him in. It's like Dean never left, like Eggsy's still on the floor with dick in this mouth and Dean's hands in his hair and it's then Eggsy realizes this is what a panic attack must feel like, the thing that he can't outrun but wants to more than anything, needs to to feel even remotely in control.
His mum's gotta be up by now, if Dean took that shower to get Eggsy's spit and blood and whatever else Dean managed to take from Eggsy, off him.
Not much time then, for Eggsy to remember how to breathe.
But there are sounds coming from the kitchen now, the muffled curse of someone stepping on something unexpectedly sharp. Not Dean’s voice, Eggsy figures he has a gut reaction built into him now, permanent like a scar. Must be Mum, stepping on whatever he left out from the cot.
He knows he should finish putting the cot together today, but there’s no part of him that wants to go back inside.
Eggsy knows he will, eventually. He’ll wipe his face and find a lie about a fight or a girl or both, for when his mother asks what he’s doing coming home only now, at this time in the morning. He’s lied to her before and he’ll do it today and he’ll do it again after that.
His mouth is still wet, and when Eggsy touches a finger to it, it comes back red.
Good.
Easiest lie to sell, Eggsy’s learning, is the thing closest to the truth.