#harryunwin

#24: “Secret Santa is bullshit.” 

I hope this is ok… this is what came in to my mind. (this fits into my complete rewrite of the Kingsman universe….)  

Roxy stared at the two men, the annoyance permeating from her. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she finally entered the room, plopping down on the beaten down and well used sofa, practically sitting on Eggsy in the process.

She noted the look of desperation that Eggsy gave her as he listened to Charlie whine.

“You know, it’s not fair that The Agents and The Staff get their own separate Secret Santa’s,” Charlie whined on. “I get that no one would want to get Merlin considering he’d figure out who it was before it even started, given he watches all the footage. But how the fuck am I supposed to buy a gift for someone down in the Tech Department. I wish I would have gotten a handler, at least Booze would be a good option there.”

Eggsy shrugged then glanced at Roxy, “Who’d you get? I got Bedivere. I swear I’m just gonna buy five different Hundred Pound Gift cards so he can take his wife out for random dates to cheap places. I already bought a Nando’s one.”

Roxy snorted, “He’s gonna love that. Get him an Odeon one next. He loves going to the cinema. I got my brother.” she rolled her eyes, “You know it’s annoying when I can’t even get into his office without him being in there. I think I’m just going to give the gifts to a random member of the staff to drop off there.”

The three of them sighed as the sound of someone stomping and entering the room drowned out their thoughts.

“Budge over, short stuff.” Roxy slid a bit and Percival squeezed in between her and the arm of the sofa,“Secret Santa is BULLSHITE! I hate Geriant. How in the fuck am I supposed to buy something for someone I hate? I would rather bury him in the garden under the Hydrangeas, but that might kill them in the spring. If I buy him something passive aggressive, he’ll work out who it is that got him right away.” He turned and looked at the three kids, “Either way I’m fucked and I don’t like it.”

Roxy looked at her brother and tried desperately not to start laughing. Charlie did start laughing and Percival tossed a throw pillow at him. It hit him square in the face.

The three of them on the sofa started laughing harder and suddenly the sofa made a soft groan and let go. With a loud thud the three of them suddenly were resting on the floor.

Percival stared at the top of the coffee table that was now at the same height as his shoulder. The three kids were laughing so hard they were crying and a tapping pair of shoes slowly entered the room.

17. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

They’re trapped in a closet, because of course they are. The mark slipped into the office as soon as Harry was going to plug into the computer, so Eggsy did the first thing he could think of and hauled him into the nearest doorway and prayed that it wasn’t to a very public part of the mansion.

Harry has the audacity to laugh at the situation, on call with Merlin and joking about the time that he and Lancelot were stuck together in a boiler room. Eggsy simmers at that, just a tad. But at the moment he can’t tell if he’s going to piss himself or cry or snog Harry until he pays attention to Eggsy.

He hears Merlin sign off with a promise to find a fix to the situation, but he’s huffing out laughs as he says it, like he’s not too concerned.

It’s dark, it smells mildly of mildew—and faintly of Harry’s cologne, fuck—and Eggsy is restless, his foot tapping.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while,” Harry says, a far-off tone in his voice, wistful, maybe. Though he can feel a glare on him, so he stops tapping his foot. He taps out a rhythm on his thigh instead with fingers, to keep himself occupied.

He’s nervous, okay? Being in a confined space with Harry Hart will do that to a person, all long legs and minty-fresh, hot breath and confidence radiating like the heat of a thousand suns.

Their legs are kinda tangled together. There’s a mop bucket underneath Eggsy so he has to lean forward, a leg right between Harry’s, hand braced on the wall opposite of him, right next to Harry’s head. If he were a weaker man, he’d probably be hard right now.

Harry grabs his hand suddenly, harsh and warning, stilling it from its tapping. “Stop that.”

Eggsy is a weaker man.

“Sorry—sorry! I don’t take to this sort of thing, ya know? The whole let’s-get-trapped-together sort of thing. The close quarters thing. Don’t much like sharin’ space with the man I—oh—Roxy ain’t been talkin’ to you, right? She says she won’t but I can’t be…sure,” he rushes, hand warm where Harry is still holding it down.

He gushes to Rox all the time, because if he doesn’t he might implode, or spill it to someone like Merlin, or Harry, for Christ’s sake.

When Harry doesn’t move his hand, he looks down, and up, where he thinks Harry’s eyes would be. “Bruv, any particular reason you holding my hand?”

He feels Harry move closer, clears his throat and promptly removes it. “Thought it might stun you enough to quiet down, I suppose not,” he claims, wiping it on his pant leg, nervous. Nervous?

“Ah,” Eggsy says eloquently.

He swallows hard, thinking up another thing to say but he’s actually a little stunned.

“Harry?”

He can feel Harry’s breath on his cheek now, humid and hot. “Yes, Eggsy,” is his reply, close to his ear.

Eggsy’s face heats up, his body still reacting to the proximity, and he’s afraid if Harry leans in any closer or moves his leg just a fraction closer, he might be doomed. He wants to bang his head back against the wall or move or something but he can’t, not without making anything obvious.

“Uh, I, uh,” he stutters, whispering “Forgot.” His voice breaks briefly on the last word, and he sounds like he’s twelve again.

Harry nods, cheek ghosting Eggsy’s, but nothing else happens, he doesn’t say anything, just breathes against his ear open-mouthed. And by god, if he wasn’t hard already, he’d be a goner.

Harry’s knee moves and brushes his crotch, stays there. He can’t tell if it was an accident or not but Eggsy gasps nonetheless, an “oh, fuck” escaping louder than he expected.

He can practically hear Harry’s eyebrows raise, a startled rush of air coming out of him, right under his earlobe.

He shuts his eyes, mortified, and so turned on it kinda hurts. He’s sweating and nervous and fuck, if he doesn’t inch closer just a bit.

The tension is palpable, he can’t hear Harry thinking, deciding what to do with this. He lets him think, his own breath becoming ragged.

And if the timing wasn’t damn near perfect enough, Merlin cuts in and gives the all clear.

Never too late! Welcome, new friend~

AHHHH YES

~

Daisy was seven when she learned the word “homophobe”, and she heard it from her teacher.

“I’m not a homophobe,” he said, earnest and anxious, “But I want you to know, if that man makes you uncomfortable, you can tell me.”

Daisy tipped her head to one side. “What does homophobe mean?” she asked.

“It means someone who doesn’t like your brother and that man.”

“Why do you keep calling my big bwuver “that man”? His name is Hawwy.”

“I thought Eggsy was your brother.”

“He is. They are married.” Daisy beamed at the stunned teacher. “So Hawwy is my bwuver too!”

“Oh,” the teacher said weakly.

Daisy decided not to tell Eggsy and Harry that she now knew that word.

Her first day went well. She was enthusiastic about learning, and was proud of her ability to write the whole alphabet, in big and small letters, and all the numbers, too. She made friends right away; it was a natural kind of charm, as Harry had often said, half in pride of Daisy, half teasing Eggsy. Daisy enjoyed recess most of all, though; there, she ran and jumped and beat all the most athletic children in their games. But she was so sweet and didn’t know what winning was, none of the other innocents felt their first pangs of jealousy.

The day ended. Daisy valiantly held in tears as she waved goodbye to her new friends. She was the last one waiting at the door, looking forlornly for the shiny black taxi that was always there to take her home. Had they forgotten her? Had they been called away again? Was mum up for driving today?

Just as her teacher stepped out and opened his mouth to say something sympathetic, Daisy gave a jubilant cry and darted out to the pavement, as the taxi slid to a smooth halt and both Harry and Eggsy slid out. Eggsy picked Daisy up and hugged her, laughing as she threw her little arms around his neck.

“Okay, okay, we missed you too, lil’ flower!” he chuckled, as Harry collected the backpack Daisy had let fall. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Daisy bounced in his arms, and reached out for Harry, who took her hand and smiled to see her grinning so broadly. “It was vewy fun! Do I come back tomorrow?”

“Of course you do,” Harry answered, amused.

“...I think that the words ‘I love you’ are perfectly lovely, but they’ve become so overused and awfully trite.

I think that actions speak louder than words, and perhaps doing something as simple as brushing your fingers through their hair if you wake first in the morning, or pressing a kiss to their cheek when you leave for the day.

It can be in bringing home flowers, offering to draw them a bath, listening to them vent after a difficult day.

It can be reciting romantic poetry, having their head in your lap as you caress their hair...

THANK YOU! <3 

Neptune: When’s your birthday?

11th of June or at least that’s when I celebrate something rather important to me. My actual birthdate is classified.

Cassiopeia: Favourite book?

*sighs* Memoirs of a Geisha. I also have a well thumbed copy of T.S Eliot's book of Practical Cats, Shakespeare’s Sonnets, and a few others. Selecting just one is quite difficult.

Milky Way: Who’s your oldest friend?