violyntfemme:

spockri:

Whiskey watches as Eggsy steps away to answer a call from his girlfriend.  He’s impressed by the kid’s prowess to nab himself the Princess of Sweden, but he’s not that impressed.  He’s had his fair share of brushing elbows with presidents and royalty, and he’s more into princes than princesses, but that’s nobody’s business.  To his left, Harry (Not the South Glade Church killer anymore.  Not a mysterious John Doe armed to the gills with deadly gadgets anymore) watches his protégé talking in hushed whispers, and Whiskey isn’t blind.  Despite his Stetson, dusty boots, and southern drawl, he’s still a spy, and it’s his job to notice little quirks and ticks in other people.  He’s seen the way they look at each other, one with regret and the other full of longing.  The tension is so thick between them that Whiskey doubts his lasso could cut through it.

Harry’s moodier than usual.  Whiskey’s spent enough time watching and observing Harry through the one-way mirror to recognize the subtle change in the man’s demeanor.  It’s more than just finding out his office and home have been blown up, and his life’s work is a pile of rubble and ashes now.  People have moved on and made a life for themselves without him.  Sullenness has replaced the usual aloofness that Whiskey’s used to seeing.  It’s a little odd: what Harry and Eggsy could have been or might have been once upon a time.  There’s a questionable age gap between them, and they come from very different backgrounds.  Still, he can understand why Harry can’t seem to take his eyes (or eye) off Eggsy.  The boy has classically good looks and exudes a certain kind of charm that lets him get away with all his backtalk.  Eggsy is adorable, really, like a tiny pomeranian who yaps too much and picks fights with dogs twice his size, and people still coo over him regardless.

“Thinking about your home?“  Whiskey makes small talk while they wait for the others to return to the table.  Merlin excused himself to the men’s room a minute earlier, leaving Harry and him in awkward silence.  He rests his arm along the back of the booth, careful not to touch Harry’s shoulder because Harry has a history of being unpredictable.  Handsome (even with an eye patch), but very dangerous. And that’s kind of a turn on, honestly.

Harry turns his head to look at Whiskey.  “No.“  At least Harry’s talking now. 

“About something else you lost then?” Whiskey clarifies and glances knowingly over at Eggsy who’s by the bar finishing up his conversation.  He’s a spy. Being nosy is in his blood.

Following the direction of Whiskey’s gaze, Harry doesn’t bother with embarrassment or defensiveness.  Instead, he replies as a matter of fact, “You can’t lose what was never yours.”

God, give us more. Please. This is fantastic. And tag me if you do, I beg of you.