Michelle walks up to an arm chair, taking the cap off of the head of the boy sitting in it. “Harry Hart’s here.”
“Who?” comes the voice from the chair.
Michelle sighs. “Harry Hart. Your bodyguard.” she says slowly.
The boy in the chair hums. “l think Roxy should be my bodyguard.” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. The people around him bark out a laugh.
Michelle rolls her eyes and slaps her son with the cap she just took off his head. “Get off your arse and come meet him.” she demands.
Eggsy lets out a groan as he pushed himself up from his chair. “Fine, fine. l’m up.” he murmurs as he turns around. He seems to stop for moment as he catches sight of the new person in the room, tipping his head to the side as a little smile starts forming on his lips.
Michelle takes a step in between the two of them, nodding her head towards Harry. “Harry Hart…” she starts introducing them. “Eggsy Unwin.”
Eggsy steps up to him with a murmured ‘hello’ and offers his hand for a handshake. Harry says a polite ‘hi’ as he takes it, allowing the boy to give him an once over.
“You don’t look like a bodyguard, bruv.” the boy says, clearly not taking the whole idea serious at all.
Harry’s a bit taken aback and he raises his eyebrows at the boy. “What did you expect?” he asks slowly.
Eggsy’s little sly smile seems to be back on his face. “Mm. Maybe a though bloke?”
Harry blinks. “This is my disguise.”
Michelle tries not to sigh again and instead nods towards a girl as she walks over to them. “This is Roxy, Eggsy’s best friend and personal secretary.”
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Hart.” the girl says with a small smile and Michelle begins introducing a couple other people who either nod or smile at him from different corners of the room.
Harry looks back to Eggsy just to find the boy already looking at him. “Can we get you a drink?” he asks, clearly trying to sound pleasant.
Harry presses his lips together, considering if he is technically on the clock or not, and then nods. “An orange juice.”
Eggsy gives Harry a once over and smirks again. “Straight?”
Give me all the soft, super self-conscious Harry. The Harry who is bad at dating because he hasn’t done it much and the Harry who has no confidence outside the field. Sure he can seduce anyone on a honey pot, but place him in a real date and he doesn’t know why someone would date him.
And then give me Eggsy making it his mission to show Harry all the reasons why he’s so amazing.
A bouquet of daisies
Eggsy sighs with contentment as he gets off of the plane and sees Harry waiting for him on the tarmac. His last mission didn’t go so bad, but one of the goon did get a lucky hit and his black eye means he’ll be confined to HQ for a bit if he doesn’t want to worry his mum.
Not that he thinks she doesn’t suspect he’s more than a simple tailor, but he sees no point in rubbing it in her face.
But if he can’t go home, getting to hug Harry first thing is a more than adequate substitute and he would feel bad to lean all his weight on him, but Harry just wraps a possessive arm around his waist and draws him a bit closer.
He spends a long time with his face just smashed against Harry’s collarbone, letting the smell of his cologne calm him that tiny bit more from the stress of his mission. It takes a moment before he realises that there is another scent around them, this one light and floral, before he notices that Harry is keeping his other arm at an awkward angle so they don’t crush the bouquet he’s holding.
“What’s this?”
“Ah,” Harry seems slightly embarrassed for some reason, but after a couple of months of dating, he knows better than to try and dismiss it. “It’s daisies. It’s for you.” He aborts a movement, probably because he wanted to offer him the bouquet but realised it would be impossible in their current position. “You mentioned you missed Daisy and were rather bummed you couldn’t see her straight away. I understand that the flowers are a rather poor substitute to actually being with your sister, but I- This was a stupid idea sorry. I’m ridiculous and-”
Before Harry can fall deeper into self-doubt and try to flee, Eggsy cups his cheeks with his hands and drags him down just enough so he can press their lips together without having to get on his tiptoe.
“You’re ridiculous if you think this is anything but the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Seriously Harry, I know you don’t believe it, but you’re probably the most romantic guy I’ve ever dated.”
“I am?”
Eggsy rolls his eyes before giving him another kiss but still answers him truthfully. “Yeah, you are.”
It could get tiring having to reassure Harry all the time that he’s not fucking everything up between them, but the thing is, it’s not all the time. And if he sometimes gets into fits of anxiety, he always believes whatever Eggsy tells him because Eggsy never tries to be anything but honest. If he’s displeased about something, he’ll say and Harry has come to trust him.
And to be honest, Eggsy gets a little thrill in knowing that Harry Hart who could seduce the panties off of anyone’s granny (or gramps probably), gets all nervous about the simple fact of dating him. That even if he should know that Eggsy is completely gone on him, he still doesn’t take him for granted and worries about losing him to some imagined slight.
He gets a thrill whenever Harry realises he’s done good and offers him one of his brilliant smile, eye crinkled with profound affection, delighted at being the cause of his lover’s happiness.
Eggsy got no choice but to have a taste of that smile.
Harry had been told, on occasion, by medical professionals no less, that he had developed an obsessive-compulsive disorder. It wasn’t terribly severe, they’d say, but it was something to keep note of. He always replied that no, he was merely a trained, bordering on paranoid, spy that felt an uncharacteristically strong need to check and/or clean his weapons multiple times a day and who liked to keep everything in his home as clean and neat as possible thank you very fucking much.
Besides, even if he accepted their silly diagnostics and he was indeed OCD, then it was of no consequence since he had always lived alone and what he did or didn’t do multiple times in his house (i.e. assemble and disassemble the multiple weapons he owned) it was no one’s business but his own.
It did not affect his performance in the field and being able to assemble any type of long distance and short distance weapon in less than one and a half minutes each was, in his profession, a blessing.
He didn’t need to look any deeper into it. He refused to seek help for it. He didn’t need it. He was fine. It was a quirk in his personality and that was the end of that.
Of course, what he had never expected was to one day be living again with another actual living breathing human being. Especially not one as wonderful and bright and fucking messy as Eggsy. He was the very definition of a human bomb. He left a mess everywhere he went, from reports left haphazardly on the dining room table next to cups of coffee to actual items of clothing left discarded on different rooms of the house, particularly on their bedroom floor.
And it was okay.
Well, no, correction, it was a mental hell for Harry, but it was Eggsy doing this, and he loved Eggsy and he wouldn’t – couldn’t – lose him. But he also knew he couldn’t exactly lose his sanity either. It would do neither of them any good.
He had tried at first to just pick up after Eggsy and, for months, it had actually worked, but the more that time passed, the harder it was for Harry to keep his grated temper in check. There was only so much of it he could take. So of course, his next step had been ramping up relaxation techniques, because if there was one thing he had become good at over the years, it was working under pressure.
Hence how he had ended up sitting by his dining room table, slick black weapons laid out in pieces on the table as he assembled them and disassembled them repeatedly one after the other, counting the number of armaments every pass.
“Harry?” Eggsy asked sleepily as he walked into the room, freezing when he finally took in the scene.
This wasn’t the first time he caught Harry cleaning and assembling his weapons. This was, however, the first time he caught him doing it at three in the goddamn morning with an almost maniacal glint on his eye.
Harry froze in place, turning slowly once it became clear Eggsy wasn’t going anywhere. “You should be sleeping, darling,” he said gently, a placating smile on his lips.
Eggsy frowned, looking more and more worried by the second. “I could say the same.” He pointed out. “Harry, babe, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Harry bristled, meeting Eggsy’s gaze with a cold one of his own. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Eggsy.”
Eggsy stilled, every alarm in his body going off. “I never said there was. I just asked if you were okay since you’ve been out of bed for almost two hours now, and you’ve apparently been down here the entire time.” Eggsy sighed, inching closer to brush a hand against Harry’s cheek. “Please Harry… I’m not judgin’, swear down, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He kissed his boyfriend’s creased brow. “Let me help you.”
Harry sighed, relaxing inch by inch, until he finally slumped forward, letting Eggsy take some of his weight. “I… There’s… well I… There’s something you should know about me, Eggsy,” Harry said eventually, swallowing hard. “I’m… well I suppose the correct term is OCD, but-” He shook his head. “It’s not a big problem, it’s just-”
“Babe, I’m not judging,” Eggsy repeated again, finally sitting on Harry’s lap. “So you’re OCD, that means, what for you exactly?”
“I like things to be… very clean and in order,” he said with a grimace, knowing how absurd he probably sounded. “And I… well I find it cathartic to- necessary really – to do this,” he said as he pointed towards his weapons. “Especially when I’m, ah, a little miffed.”
Eggsy’s eyes suddenly lit up with understanding. “Oh my god, this is because of the mismatched clothing I put in our wardrobe today, innit?” He said, a hint of horror at his own actions tinging his voice.
Harry grimaced. “Perhaps,” he said in a soft voice, burying his head in the crook of Eggsy’s neck. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Eggsy whispered, kissing him soundly. “I mean I don’t know how this works yet, but we’ll figure it out, yeah? Me and you, we always do.”
“Why
would you still buy burgers?”, Eggsy asks with a hint of disgust clinging
to his voice, his pretty face scrunched up as he watches Harry bite into his
burger.
It’s three in the morning, they have just come home from Sri Lanka, and since
McDonald’s was the only restaurant they could find to get anything to eat, here
they are, eating a very late dinner from paper wrappers.
“What do you mean?”, Harry asks once he has swallowed, takes a sip of Sprite.
“Y’know, after Agent Whiskey – I couldn’t eat anythin’ like that anymore
without thinking of eating a person.”
Harry lets a moment pass, sets down his cup, then smiles at Eggsy as innocently
as he possibly can. “Considering how you begged me not to stop yesterday night,
I really didn’t think you’d have anything against me eating a person…out.”
Eggsy’s wearing his dress uniform because he was a marine and of course he would want to wear it.
Harry is wearing a pink waistcoat because this is Harry we’re talking about of course he is.
I want this and I will keep this theory alive till the day the movie is there. Someone needs to draw them in those outfits on their wedding day. Or make a short story. Give me material.
“Harry, that is truly hideous.” Merlin rubbed his temples. “I thought I was so lucky when I dissuaded Eggsy from wearing that awful orange tux, but now you have to wear a Pepto-Bismol waistcoat, of all things.”
Before Harry could protest, Roxy stepped in: “It’s his wedding day.” She rolled her eyes, giving Harry a supportive smile. “Let him wear what he wants. Besides, Eggsy would marry Harry in a chicken costume if that was what made them happy.”
“I draw the line at dressing up as an animal,” Eggsy declared, walking into the room in a full military dress. He then whistled, looking Harry up and down. “Very nice.”
“Eggsy, you are not supposed to see groom before the ceremony! It’s bad luck! Can’t you spend twenty-four hours apart?” Merlin groused.
The couple looked at each other, amused. “No,” they both said in unison.
Merlin threw up his hands. “If your ceremony is interrupted by another villainous attack, don’t come crying to me!” Closing his eyes, Merlin sighed, “Now if you excuse me, I need to check to see if Jack has stopped that infuriating American agent from taking another bite out of the wedding cake.”
“Don’t worry about him; weddings made Merlin a bit tetchy,” Harry told them, once the quartermaster had stormed off, kilt swinging angrily behind him. “This hullabaloo is quite different from his wedding.”
Eggsy and Roxy’s jaws dropped. “Merlin’s married?” Eggsy exclaimed.
“To whom?” Roxy demanded.
“Oh, you’ll see,” Harry said, with a mysterious smile. “If Merlin gets enough alcohol in him, he’ll be waltzing across the floor with him.”
“Him?” Eggsy asked. “I assumed he…I dunno, Merlin and Ginger…”
“Oh, no, they can’t stand each other,” Harry said, clearly enjoying himself. “I remember back in 1992 – “
Suddenly, there was a burst of swearing and Jack shouting, “Someone get that dog!,” along with what sounded like several trumpets being trampled and wings flapping. “The doves!” they heard Merlin groan. “Fuck!”
“I better see what this is all about,” Roxy said, amused, then glanced over at both of them as she stepped out of the room. “Why don’t you two…practice your vows or something?”
“Rox, you’re the guv’nor,” Eggsy declared, and Roxy gave him a quick wink before hurrying out.
He then turned to Harry, cheeks turning a slow, steady pink when he caught Harry’s gaze. “What?” Eggsy asked.
“True. But today…” Harry stepped forward, putting both hands on Eggsy’s forearms and taking in the whole effect. The uniform emphasized Eggsy’s broad shoulders and lean muscles, but it wasn’t bespoke, according to his tailor’s eye. Harry could see it had been altered. “Where is this uniform from?”
“It’s my dad’s,” Eggsy said. “Mum said he got married in this, too, and we thought…oh, no, Harry, don’t go apologizing now.”
Harry let out a shuddering sigh, drawing back. “Your mother isn’t thrilled about this whole thing, is she?”
“Well, she hadn’t exactly pictured my wedding like this at all,” Eggsy admitted. “But she’s not going to stand up and yell I object! during the ceremony, especially since she’s walking me down the aisle. She just wants to see me happy.” He placed a hand on Harry’s cheek, smiling like he hadn’t in months. “Harry, you have no idea how happy I am to have you in my life, and – “
“It’s time!” Roxy exclaimed, looking a bit flustered as she threw open the door. “Come on, Eggsy, you got to get to your mum, and Harry’s got to get up on the altar before everyone thinks you’re running late again. Come on!”
Harry took Eggsy’s hands in his and squeezed. “I love you.”
Eggsy kissed him. “I do, too. Now, let’s get married.”
The words finally make Harry look up from his paperwork and he frowns in confusion at the young man sitting across from him in his office. “You killed him?” It’s not really polite to interrupt, but he cannot see how the story Eggsy was telling him could devolve into such violence. “Wait, what? Literally?”
Eggsy rolls his eyes, but he seems more fond than irritated.
“Of course not. ‘Was just checking if you were still listening. Apparently not.” Harry grimaces at what should be a reproach, but before he can apologize for his inattention, Eggsy waves him off. “Nah luv, it’s fine. Paperwork is a bitch, I get it. But you should tell me when I’m being a bother.”
“Never! That is to say, you’re never a bother my dear.” Eggsy looks doubtful at that, so Harry reaches across the desk to take his hand in his. “I’m serious Eggsy. I know it’s unfair to you, but I’d rather have you talk at me than to miss any moment we could be together.”
Eggsy blushes happily at that and links their fingers together.
“How about I sing to you instead?”
It’s not an offer Harry expected, but he would be a fool not to accept it.
FantasyBoudicca 