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From the moment Eggsy heard the fateful words “Manners maketh man” something inside of him changed and he found himself whispering “Make me a man, ‘Arry” to himself. It was funny, really, how one glass sent flying towards some douche’s head could send all Eggsy’s ideas and worldviews flying as well.
Certainly, he never claimed the probability of falling for a man to be complete zero; he had, however, long time ago ruled out the possibility of falling for a posh gentleman with perfect manners. They were all supposed to be snobs judging those poorer and less successful than themselves. He had accused Harry of the same things just some moments ago, yet here he is, totally lovestruck and unable to avert his eyes from Harry’s arse whenever Harry faced a suitable direction.
In conclusion, Eggsy was screwed, and not even in the literal way.
When going separate ways after the bar incident, Eggsy is half-prepared to never see Harry again. They do live in totally different worlds, and just because Harry drank beer with him once ain’t going to change that fact. Maybe if he called the number from the medal again and asked to see Harry, they (whoever “they” were) would arrange a meeting for them? Doubtfully. And even if they did, what would Eggsy even have to say? That the way Harry wore his perfectly tailored suit and glasses and they way he handled umbrellas mad him all hot and bothered? Not a chance.
So Eggsy throws the idea out of his head and goes home, hoping that the crush will disappear as fast as it developed.
Nothing ever goes as planned and Eggsy soon finds himself in front of a tailor shop, painfully aware of the fact that no matter what he thinks of, his thoughts always return to one sentence.
“Eggsy, meet me at the tailor's.”
He is pretty sure the thing he ought to be happy about is surviving after having a knife pointed at his face just some hours ago, yet the only thing filling his thoughts is that Harry Hart wants to meet him again.
It takes him immense effort to wipe a grin off his face as he steps into the store and spots Harry, flawless as always, sitting on a sofa awaiting his arrival. He wills himself not to try jumping the older gentleman there and then and instead says the oneliner he had been prepared beforehand, hopes that his nervousness ain’t showing on his face.
That nervousness quickly turns to confusion as Eggsy is led to a mirror and asked what he sees. Because what he sees is Harry Hart looking him straight into the eyes through the mirror and, althought it’s probably just Eggsy’s wishful thinking, Harry’s eyes darting to his lips and a shadow crossing his face. Eggsy blinks in a surprise and the man standing behind him is back to being the perfectly calm and composed gentleman. So he wills himself to think that it was just his imagination, and concentrates on the question at hand.
What he sees? Well, for one, this situation is awfully similar to those romantic scenes in chickflicks. Maybe instead of answering he should just tell Harry “I know who you is, ‘Arry” and hope he gets the reference? Or perhaps go for something extremely cheesy?
“I see a man so hot makes me lose all self-control, standing right behind me,” would work quite well, but just as he is about to say it out loud, Eggsy discovers an unexpected truth – when it comes to Harry Hart, he doesn’t have the balls to flirt.
Well shit.
The rest of the conversation is spent on trying not to think too hard about being complimented by Harry, and not to turn around and kiss him when Harry actually honors him with a smile.
“Bet you has no idea what just ‘ow full of surprises I is,” he thinks to himself. Not that Harry ain’t. Considering that he’s apparently a spy and all that.
As the elevator goes down and down, Eggsy catches himself on a thought that he’d very much like this modern knight to penetrate him “deep enough”, like Harry so nicely put it (sadly speaking about a completely different thing). It is a really strange thing to think about in the current situation, Eggsy muses, yet somehow getting his head around Harry being a spy and offering him to become one too is a lot easier that accepting the fact that he may have caught a sight of Harry checking him out when he wasn’t looking. Well, even if it wasn’t his imagination Harry is probably just in the process of comparing him to his dad. Better not think too much about it.
And then the elevator stops and they are boarding some weird looking vehicle and Eggsy is too preoccupied with his own thougths to fasten his seatbelt in time and the next moment he finds his face pressed against Harry’s crotch. Bless momentum conservation principle.
Facing Harry takes some bravery because Eggsy might or might not have used the opportunity to nuzzle Harry’s dick through his perfectly tailored trousers. Whoops.
The rest of the ride is very much anticlimatic, since when Eggsy finally musteres enough courage to look Harry in the eye, he is looking at him with his usual composed and calm face with just a tiny glimpse of amusement at, what Eggsy assumes to be his stupidity. No words are exchanged until they reach their destination, and even after that, they part quite soon, Eggsy going to his first lecture for Kingsman candidates, and Harry going wherever Harry felt like going.
Eggsy must admit he is thankful for the shared room with no privacy because if he had privacy he’d end up wanking to images of Harry’s crotch pushed against his face (the other way around, really, but then again, Eggsy’s imagination differs from reality in many more aspects as well) a lot more often. Which is to say, he still does that quite often, each time the guilt inside of him growing more and more.
What would Harry say if he found out? How am I going to face Harry next time I see him? Will I be able to stay cool when talking to him?
The looks Roxy is giving him ain’t helping much either. He suspects she might have heard him moan Harry’s name in his sleep and prays that he is just worrying too much.
Then come the news about Harry getting badly hurt. And it is Roxy who tells him about it and helps him sneak into Harry’s room when everyone else has left already. His suspicions about her knowing his secret may have been accurate, but since it means Eggsy actually gets to see Harry, he guesses it ain’t all that bad.
Unconcious Harry looks so weak and vulnerable and this whole picture makes things to Eggsy’s mind. When he had first seen him, it took all of his strength to suppress his emotions and not to do anything stupid in front of Merlin but now he is alone and noone is watching so it is totally alright to come on to his mentor, sit next to him, and squeeze his hand.
Eggsy feels so powerless and weak. Merlin had told him that the only thing for him to do right now is complete training and make Harry proud, but really, he didn’t have to. Eggsy was set on doing exactly that anyways. For a wholly another reason though – not to make Harry proud, but to be able to stand next to Harry, to be there for Harry, to protect Harry when needed.
For a while he considers doing something more than just holding Harry’s hand. But what is there to do, really. Kiss him? He’s going to have hard time facing Harry as it is already, better not make it even harder. Hug him? What if that accidentally hurts him even more? After giving it much thought, Eggsy settles to just sitting next to Harry and holding his hand until Roxy peeks in and warns him against staying for much longer.
There goes his plan of staying by Harry’s side until he wakes up then. Oh well, he gets up and, on the spur of the moment plants a gentle kiss on Harry’s forehead. For a moment he thinks he saw Harry’s eyelids twitch a little but writes it off as his imagination and quickly flees the room, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks and scowling at Roxy who seems to be having hard time not making any sassy remarks. What a supportive friend.
After a while Harry comes around and Eggsy’s daily visits of his room come to an end. He tries not to admit to himself feeling just a bit sad about not seeing Harry on a daily basis again, and it doesn’t turn out to be too hard, considering that Eggsy is too happy that Harry is well again and, frankly, he had been sacrificing quite a bit of sleep for those meetings anyway.
With worry for Harry temporarily gone, Eggsy manages to fully concentrate on training again. Or well, as fully as he can concentrate on something when his head is always full of walking talking Harry Hart being perfect in his red robe he seems to fancy when not wearing suit. All in all, Eggsy thinks he is doing quite well in blocking anything unrelated out of his mind during his training, the only bigger lapse perhaps being Harry’s face popping up in front of his eyes as he almost became a pancake on the grass in front of HQ.
“You should know that your father reached this point.”
The words are meant as a warning, but all Eggsy can think of when he hears them is Harry shifting a bit behind him at the mention of his dad. He feels that it is incredibly unfair how even now he is being compared to his dad. “My dad is dead and this situation has nothing to do with him!” he wants to shout, instead opting to just silently nodding and supressing the lump forming in his throat. Eggsy vows to himself to go further than his father did. Maybe then he would finally be seen as something more than just his shadow. Or maybe something will change in the next 24 hours? Spending a whole day with a man whom you have been imagining fucking with while wanking for months is going to be quite awkward, but Eggsy figures it’s about time he grew a pair and made a move in reality and not only in his fantasies.
Making a move turns out to be a lot harder than he thought so after going over his few options Eggsy opts for the “show huge interest in them and ask them lots of questions about themselves” strategy. Sure it’s cheesy, but it’s also foolproof. And somehow leads to them standing in the kitchen making “perfect martinis”.
“No, Eggsy. You are stirring it too violently.” Harry walks up to Eggsy from behind and places his hand on Eggsy’s. “This is how you stir it. In a semi-vigorous manner. Not violently.”
Harry is so close Eggsy can feel his breath on his neck and it takes all his concentration not to drop the pitcher.
“Now you should put your drink down and go find some good music,” Harry murmurs before letting go of Eggsy’s hand and walking up to the grammophone standing in the corner of the room. He bends down, swiftly picks out one record and soon the room is filled lounge music.
Eggsy manages to avert his eyes just in time to avoid getting caught checking out Harry’s arse and conventrate his attention fully on the pitcher in his hand.
“Mancini.” Eggsy jumps a little as his hand is once again covered with Harry’s. “Is Harry doing it on purpose?” he wonders to himself, and then, aloud “Mancini as in the Pink Panter Theme composer Mancini?”
That earns a silent hum of approval and his hand is once again released as Harry goes to the counter and takes out olives and peanuts. “You really are full of surprises, Eggsy.” He remarks and Eggsy can once again see the amusement in his eyes, which, he admits, make him rather proud.
The silence resumes, until after some more stirring, this time without Harry’s helpful hand, and once the nuts and olives have been served it is time to taste how it turned out.
“To be honest, it is said that martini should be drunk together with a lady, but,” Harry playfully winks at Eggsy and Eggsy thanks the universe for the couch he is sitting on, because his knees definitely wouldn’t have kept him up “a gentleman must always adapt with the situation, so today it will be the two of us. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No worries, ‘Arry, I don’t mind as long as you don’t.” Eggsy grins and Harry returns the smile as they toast.
By the time they reach the tailor shop Eggsy is feeling a bit tipsy and doesn’t even try to hide his obvious fascination with everything that Harry says or does. Including the inappropriate innuendo which feels so damn hilarious until the moment Harry leads him to fitting room three and Eggsy notices the all-knowing face on attendant’s face.
The room they enter is small and reminds him of the escalator one so he half-jokingly asks whether they’re going up or down, conveniently omitting the “on you” he almost blurts out in the heat of the moment. His mood is at its peak and when they are left alone in the fitting room one once Eggsy’s measurments have been taken, he decides that it the right moment to do something.
He had been quite openly staring at Harry’s lips throughout the introduction to fitting room three, and made sure to keep eye contact with him through the mirror when getting measured. He couldn’t possibly be the only one feeling the immense sexual tension between them. Something so open and obvious couldn’t possibly be onesided.
So Eggsy decides that it is now or never. But just as he openes his mouth to say something which would leave him unable to back down anymore Harry also opens his and Eggsy’s heart drops to the bottom of his stomach.
“If only your father was alive to see you right now.” Did Eggsy catch a glimpse of sadness in Harry’s eyes or is it just his own reflection? “I’m sure he’d be very proud of you, even more that he would be worried about your well-being, Eggsy.”
“Oi. ’S that supposed to be the last warning? Because I ain’t backing up now.” He desperately clings to the hope that his voice isn’t going to crack and make him look even more pitiful than he probably already looks. “I is going to pass the last test with flying colors and become a kingsman just like you. And differently from my dad, I is gonna survive and fight alongside you.” He shoots Harry what he hopes looks like an intimidating stare before turning on his heels and walking out of the fitting room.
Harry follows him shortly after. It’s no surprise, really, considering that they’re supposed to be spending this day together, and Eggsy has to remind himself not to read too much into it.
The rest of the day goes by without Eggsy paying much attention to anything. He had planned on sneaking into Harry’s room at night as the last resort, but as he lies on the sofa in the guest room, everything feels hopeless and meaningless, so he buries his face in a pillow and tries to fall asleep, telling himself that if he manages to become a kingsman, he’ll still have many opportunities left.
But he doesn’t. Because he doesn’t pass the exam. And the words Harry shoots at him are more painful than the feeling of failure.
Did Eggsy understand that the only reason why Harry bothered with him was because of his father? Yes. Did he accept that fact without resorting to wishful thinking? No. Had he now lost any chance of being there for Harry as he walked out of the door telling Eggsy to just stay there until he returned? Hell no.
Harry might be a kingsman, but Eggsy is still better than him at driving. So he reaches the church before Harry. And walks into the church before Harry. And kicks everyone’s butts before Harry. Or well, almost all. For a moment Eggsy thinks he sees Harry’s face in one of the people attacking him. So for a moment, despite the chip controlling his brain and despite his brain willing him to kill everyone around him, he hesitates. And then he feels something cold and sharp sink into his chest and everything turns pitchblack.
There are voices. Some more blurred than the others and he finds it hard to distinguish between them. Until he feels someone’s hands on his face and thinks that he can hear Harry’s voice from somewhere very distant.
“’Arry,” he manages to whisper and it feels as if it takes him all of his energy to say just that one name, yet he needs to say more. So much more. “Sorry. Even death. Overlapping with dad’s.”
He wants to say more but can no longer move his own mouth. Is he going to die? Well, this sucks. Here he is, imagining Harry saying that he didn’t mean what he had said back then, that he likes Eggsy, that Eggsy isn’t his father and never was and that he can’t just die yet, he is supposed to survive and fight alongside Harry just like he promised.
Is it just his wishful thinking again? Probably yes, but as his conciousness starts to fade again, Eggsy wills himself to believe that what he hears is real.