#dagonet writes

[agentdagonet]

Prompt: Eggsy meeting Daisy for the first time

Okay I know this is hella late but I PROMISE I didn’t forget you, @solrosan I just wanted to be sure this was good!!

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He was a rubber band ball ready to snap of emotions. He was frustrated that he’d left the Marines cos his mum’d called him crying. He was disappointed in himself for giving in so easily. He was beyond angry at Dean for linking himself into Eggsy’s life for however long he managed to stay alive by getting his mum pregnant. He was frightened oof what was going to happen to him, to the baby, to his mum, the next time Dean’s life got a bit shitty- who was going to be the first victim? Who was he going to focus on to keep the rest in line?

How was his mum doing in the room going through labor by herself cos Dean was a shit who couldn’t be arsed to pick up the phone when they’d called? He heard the uncomfortable noises and grunting, he listened hard as he could to the muffled sounds of the nurses through the door to try and figure out if things were going well. 

Eggsy knew it took ages to pop a kid out, but he was going more than a bit spare in the meantime.

Eventually time managed to speed up enough that there was a loud cry and Eggsy nearly collapsed into the nearest chair in relief. The baby was healthy, at least healthy enough to scream, and it seemed that the noise was the cue that he was allowed into the room. He mum hadn’t wanted him inside for the messy bits, he guessed (did she not understand that even basic training for the Marines wasn’t all sunshine and flowers?) as a nurse beckoned him inside and he beelined it for the bed.

All the fake doctor sitcoms on the telly showed giving birth as being exhausting and as unglamorous as it got, but Eggsy thought that they somehow undersold it. Her hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat and her face was pale but her eyes. Her eyes looked triumphant, and Eggsy wanted to cry from that alone.

‘How’re you doin’ mum?’ He took her hand gently, and he could feel hers tremble in response as if she had no strength left in her.

‘I don’t got a name for her.’ She sounded so lost.

‘Her?’ Eggsy turned to see someone holding a bundle of blankets, so much smaller than he thought a new human had any right to be, coming their way before placing it gently into the rook of his mum’s arm.

‘Your new sister.’ There was a gurgle from the blanket, and Eggsy pulled down an edge to take a glimpse.

Babies aren’t all that pretty looking when they’re brand new. Red and wrinkly and honestly just a generic blob of squishy human features. He’d never believed people when they said that the world shifted when their kid was born. That they were perfect and it didn’t matter what they looked like it was a fact.

He took one look at her, her small tuft of wispy blonde hair and sleepy blue eyes, and swore the world had tilted on its axis. He saw in a flash the things he would do for her, this being who had no idea of the struggles she would face; the worlds he would burn and the sacrifices he would never speak of. He knew in his bones that she was everything and it was worth the things he’d let go of to be here.

He saw hope for a future he didn’t now he’d get to see.

‘Daisy.’

‘Hrm?’ His mum blinked her eyes slowly, head tilted as far as she was able in his direction and a brow lifted in question.

‘Her name, mum. Daisy, like them flowers you like. And...’ Eggsy thought for a moment, trying to find a name that didn’t sound awful with Daisy, ‘Alexienne. For dad’s mum.’ They didn’t talk about him much, especially with Dean in the picture- it wasn’t a happy thought. But he figured that, maybe, this would be okay.

‘Daisy Alexienne. Bit of a mouthful, babe.’ 

‘Still better than Gary Perseus.’

‘Not by much.’ She began to chuckle, quiet but consistent, at Eggsy’s offended look. Things would work out just fine. Eventually.

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I HOPE IT WAS OKAY! 

If you’re interested in submitting a prompt feel free! Can’t guarantee quality or timeliness but I’ll try!

[agentdagonet]

If you can do angst, or a form of it. Future Harry/Eggsy? Where Eggsy is home taking care of his 80 year old husband with pneumonia. Bonus if Eggsy is Arthur. So sort of hurt/comfort over angst. Thank you!

I am so sorry for the delay, life and such. You know. But I hope you get to see this and enjoy it!!

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Eggsy hadn’t ever really thought about getting to this point. Not in a suicidal way, he didn’t think, but in the way he assumed all people thought of getting older- as an idea, but not something to really plan for. You could plan for death, and you could plan for the next day or even the next year, but decades? Those were flights of fancy.

Especially in their line of work.

But Eggsy tapped out of his Arthur coms and pulled off his coat as he came in the door, and hung them on the peg just inside. He came in quietly, and tried to carefully adjust the bags in his hands. He’d noticed they were running low on your sick in bed staples, mostly because for some odd reason getting older didn’t make your immune system stronger past a certain point, and stopped at the shops on his way home. 

He couldn’t hear rustling upstairs, which made him think that Harry was still in bed- which would be a good thing, as Eggsy’d only been out from the house for a couple hours and his husband was on strict bed rest. Not that Harry usually listened to such instructions, comas notwithstanding, but he’d drugged his morning tea to help ensure it was at least marginally followed.

(technically consensually, if there was such a thing- amongst the plethora of paperwork they’d filled out for Kingsman after their marriage Merlin had slipped in a ‘for their own good’ clause that basically gave them free reign to do anything they deemed necessary to keep their partner alive and in good health. Needless to say their interpretations of such were loose at best and ridiculous at worst.

This was not the first drugging of consumables ‘for their own good’ as you could likely guess)

Eggsy made short work of pulling together some soup and tea, and a bottle of the fruity sugar-pretending-to-be-healthy electrolyte drink Harry preferred, and placed it all on a tray to be brought up to the bath. He ran the water for a short while before plugging it to let it fill, adding a small amount of salts to the water before entering the bedroom and softly kissing his drowsy husband.

‘C’mon, love, up you get.’ There was the standard amount of grumbling as Harry turned over, but Eggsy simply pulled the covers from his body and laughed at his expense. ‘I’ve got you a bath runnin’ and some soup that I gone and made with my own fair hands; you really gonna ignore that? Me? Your husband-’

‘If you’d stop nattering about you’d notice that I’m up,’ a hacking cough, ‘Well, awake, you actually have me a bit trapped, my dear.’ Harry’s eyes were certainly clearer than they’d been a moment before, and Eggsy hastily helped him from bed before herding him unceremoniously toward the tub. Harry slapped a hand away when he tried to help undress him, and levelled a halfhearted glare as Eggsy hovered near the rim of the tub after shutting off the water.

‘You do know that I’ve cared for myself just fine without you, right?’ Harry growled, eyes flashing a glare that Eggsy knew was hollow but still struck true.

‘Just cos you can do it don’t mean you should. I’m here, and I love you- you just get to deal with it. it’s literally what you signed up for with this.’ Eggsy wriggled his left hand in the air, making sure to catch the simple band on the light. 

Sometimes, the only way to get through to Harry was to brush hurts off. Other times he’d have to fight back with harsh words and actions- but pneumonia was humiliating as it was. There was no need to make them both miserable.

Egssy’d guilt him for it once he was better.

Harry gave in, and Eggsy pretended not to hear the pleased sound his husband made in response to having his hair washed and feet rubbed.

Eggsy’d never bothered to imagine growing old. He’d definitely never imagined doing so with someone else, when he’d thought about the future. But he couldn’t imagine being happier than he was in this moment.

---

I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were looking for but it’s what came to mind! 

Feel free to send a new prompt and I’ll see what I can do! No guarantees on timing but I’ll try eventually!!

[agentdagonet]

If you’re still taking prompts, could I ask for some merwin? Fluffy and domestic please? Thanks! ❤️

sorry for the delay! Life’s been a bit more than hectic, and my head’s not been in a great place tbh. But I’m working on it. I hope this is to your liking!!

Merlin loved cooking. He loved the way you could follow instructions, or not; the way you could create ruin from disaster and use miscellaneous bits and bobs to create beauty. Someone had once said that there was little similar between adapting technology and a chef’s mastery and Merlin had barely bit back a laugh- the only difference he could see was in the materials involved.

He found the process almost meditative, when he allowed himself to simply be and do whatever his body decided needed to be done.

But, much like his desk at R&D, having someone else in his creative space was... difficult.

Until Eggsy.

Eggsy, who had one day simply slotted himself beside him and begun to peel a potato as if he’d been in this kitchen all his life. Who had passed tools and cookware in response to half-formed questions from the first time he had entered the space. Eggsy, whose chaotic energies in the field were somehow tempered when tasked to create.

‘And what’s that,’ Merlin sighed into Eggsy’s hair, one arm tucked about his shoulder as the other kept a firm grip on his case of reports, ‘I’m smelling from my kitchen?’ He looked down into lighter eyes, one brow raised in response to the cheeky grin.

‘Magic stew!’ Eggsy bounced off, pulling a small stack of containers from one end of the counter and a loaf of sourdough from the breadbox. Merlin set the case at the base of the sofa and watched with a small smile as Eggsy pulled together a large helping of the stew, sprinkling some chopped bacon and small chunks of gouda atop before bringing it carefully to his husband. He placed the bowl down, raised himself to his tiptoes to press a smiling kiss to his jaw, and went to get his own.

[agentdagonet]

Still taking prompts?? How about Harry being married in name to someone, and finally gets a divorce from them. Cue him being able to ask Eggsy

(I hope you don’t mind this doesn’t have the actual proposal to Eggsy but I got lost in the anticipation of the thing and couldn’t get the proposal to flow off of it proper)

Harry’d given up on ever getting the divorce papers back. He’d sent them nearly five years ago and hadn’t received a text message, let alone the papers, in return. It was lucky that if they went unfiled the papers would never expire- if she hadn’t simply tossed them out they were still usable. They hadn’t even seen one another in nearly twenty years, the marriage itself one of convenience.

Her misogynistic git of a father had put her being married as a qualification to get her inheritance and he’d known he was never going to marry a woman for love- and marriage between men was illegal and would likely remain so for his lifetime, it seemed. So why not, she got what she needed and he lost nothing in return.

But the impossible had happened: he was legally allowed to marry a man and had fallen in love. And that made that paper marriage very inconvenient indeed. It was not, he reasoned, as if he needed to have a piece of paper to know that he and Eggsy were it for each other. They said it in a thousand ways each day, in a million thoughtless touches and warm gazes. In presses of lips and hands and besotted words that caused their coworkers to mime gagging in their presence and avoid being stuck in close quarters with them.

But he wanted. He wanted in a way he’d wanted little else. The way he’d wanted Kingsman and possibility. He’d bought a set of rings for the sheer symbolism of it, brought them to Merlin nearly a year ago and asked that they be seamed and altered- it wouldn’t do for them to need to be broken off a swollen finger, and he could be forgiven for wanting to feel Eggsy’s pulse against his own. An echo of connection, like a thread tethered between them both, perhaps one of those red strings that the legends liked to speak of.

He’d had Eggsy’s inscribed, even, like the besotted fool he was: Full of Surprises, which was entirely worth Merlin’s raised eyebrow when he’d seen it. He’d left his own blank, in the hopes that Eggsy would want to fill it himself. Wishful thinking, a set of rings that would likely never see the light of day. He was not the sort of man to want the symbol without the rest of it.

He didn’t want something sitting on his finger that he had to qualify, had to explain; if he was going to give a ring to Eggsy he was going to get everything that it entailed. The show, song, and dance and anything his heart desired for it. The things he would never say aloud but likely dreamt of as impossibilities. He deserved nothing less.

So the envelope in the post, weighted and addressed appropriately, was entirely unexpected. Eggsy was due back from Romania in a matter of hours, bruised but unbroken, and they’d planned to have takeaway in front of the telly but now-

There was an envelope on the table, and Harry couldn’t bring himself to open it. To wonder as to its contents, to put an end to the mystery and either settle for what he had (which was not settling at all) or jump into an unexpected fresh start. He was glad that he’d put his glasses up in the bedroom, as his hands shook and he wiped them anxiously against his trousers.

‘Just open the damn thing, Harry. What kind of spy are you that a stack of paper has you this rattled?’ Harry muttered to himself, taking a steadying breath before picking up the envelope and tearing into it. Perhaps a bit too eagerly, as he hissed and stuck a finger in his mouth- paper cuts were awful, awful, things. But he shook it dry after a moment and pulled the papers loose, and was greeted by a brightly coloured note at the top.

Sorry for the wait- there was another clause in the will, the bastard. If I’d filed these any sooner, it would have been for nothing in the first place. Ta for the time, don’t feel obligated to stay in touch. xx

Harry flipped through signed the pages eagerly, seeing hers alongside his own and at the end another paper that bore the judge’s signature. It was done.

Harry ran up the stairs to the office, threw the pile into a file, and grabbed the ring box from the false-bottom drawer of his desk before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

He had someone to meet on the tarmac.

Let me put this out there: I’ll be taking prompts for the foreseeable future! Not sure how quickly they’ll get posted but I’m finding this a LOT of fun so KEEP THE PROMPTS COMING!

[agentdagonet]

Merlin/anyone. They get him a fish tank for his office because they read fish are good for stress. how he reacts is up to you.

Okay so I love silly films that no one’s heard before and literally could not resist throwing one in here. If you’re looking for something silly and ridiculous to fill your Quarantine, The Incredible Mr. Limpet features a dude who turns into a fish and helps defeat the Nazis. It’s amazing, I promise.

I hope you enjoy it!

And, as always, if you want to prompt me a thing feel free!!

‘Perfect.’ Harry took a step backward, arms crossed, and Eggsy ran a hand through his hair with a crooked grin.

The tank itself was obnoxiously huge, took an entire corner of the office, and housed a couple dozen small fish. Despite the size it was simple, propped up on a shelf made of some dark wood that looked posh without being obnoxious.

‘Y’sure Merlin ain’t gonna kill us for doing this?’

‘Nonsense- it’s nearly self-sufficient, and the things we couldn’t automate have been scheduled out for the next ten years. He’s being given a stress reducer that literally all he has to do is observe. Unlike,’ Harry raised a brow, ‘the miniature zen garden you gave him that still has ‘fucking use me’ written in the sand.’

‘Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Ten quid it’s a month b’fore he throws a curtain or somethin’ over it with some stupid excuse. Like, “they were giving me a headache” or “it was too bright” or some stupid shite like that.’

‘You’re on.’ Harry took a pen and a pad of paper from the desk and wrote a brief note. He folded it up into a heart, like the sap he was, and set it in the centre of the keyboard before putting a hand at the small of Eggsy’s back and guiding him from the room.

‘Since the fuck when did you do origami?’

‘The Alps are far more boring than they seem, Eggsy. I can only hope that you don’t learn as much the way I did.’

It took, predictably, milliseconds for Merlin to notice and dismiss the tank in the corner. It was unimportant, compared to the mission he was wrapped up in Handling. But he noticed it, and smiled softly at the tiny zen garden that had acquired yet another small stone, before continuing with his day as normal.

For all that he loved them, his boyfriends (and what a childish term for such a significant part of his life) didn’t seem to understand that, as stressful as Kingsman could be, it wasn’t the kind of stress that he could be without. It was like the thumping of his heart, the blinking of his eyes, the insatiable need for oxygen in his lungs-  something he couldn’t separate from himself if he tried. If he were ever inclined to do so.

So, yes, the little zen garden was a kind thought- but the fact that it had been a gift from Eggsy was what kept it there. And every time it was altered, a new stone or message written in the small sand-filled box, that was what kept his sanity. He didn’t need to do something himself to alleviate the stress- his stress was built from having to do things- he needed the tangible reminder that someone was trying to help him. That they cared and noticed.

Logically knowing such things was a great boon- but when irrational fears took root the tangible was the only way to chase those demons away.

The tank was a bit more difficult to figure out. It didn’t move, the tank didn’t become dirty, the fish did not grow or change, the dim light came on and turned itself off with little fanfare. It simply Was, and that somehow was what kept bringing it to his attention. It didn’t change, a strange steady presence amidst the chaos.

And neither of them had made any mention of it. They’d acted as if it had always been there, and that alone had made him suspicious. But nothing happened, and after a few days he stopped wondering and simply moved along. He waited for the day a fish would die from his negligence, and the heartbroken look he would receive in turn, but it never came.

One evening, with everyone home and in varying states of exhaustion in the sitting room, Eggsy shot up in place. He grabbed his phone and turned on the telly, eventually grinning to himself.

‘You ever seen Limpet?’

‘Pardon?’ Harry blinked into awareness, brows drawn, and Merlin simply raised a brow in Eggsy’s direction.

‘Th’Incredible Mr Limpet, it’s a film- you seen it? Woulda been out when you were kids, you’re ancient enough-’ Merlin swat out at Eggsy, who had seen it coming and dodged, but he hadn’t been able to avoid Harry’s leg as it swept him. As Eggsy’d say the move was nearly Drift Compatible, and he and Harry shared a smile.

‘Can’t say that it sounds familiar.’

‘Don Knotts? American actor- voiced the turtle in Cats Don’t Dance?’ Eggsy looked between them, eyes searching but lips upturned.

‘I assure you, Eggsy, that neither of us have any idea of what you’re talking about.’ Merlin knew that the statement wouldn’t remain true for long, going from the younger man’s earnest expression, and settled himself in for what would undoubtedly be an unforgettable evening.

The following days were surprisingly quiet. Oh, sure, Eggsy’d changed their message tones to a now-familiar thrum, but otherwise nothing had changed.

Or, so Eggsy had assumed.

One evening, in the hours where Eggsy knew Percival was asleep and Lancelot was simply gathering information, he walked to Merlin’s office in the hopes of getting him to take a break. Not to leave his office, in the midst of all this he knew he would never manage that, but a cuppa and maybe a kip. But.

But.

There was singing. A familiar nonsense tune that had him grinning to himself as he tapped one end of his specs to begin recording.

‘And if she gives her tail a swish, and winks a fishy eye- a minnow all at once can be a whale of a guy,’ Merlin cut himself off, humming, as Eggsy made his way into the room with the steaming cup of tea and set it upon the desk. The empty desk, as Merlin was crouched before the tank with a soft smile on his face.

[agentdagonet]

Eggsy gets asked to assist MI-6 with a mission, and works with Bond. Very well. Harry gets jealous

Okay, I know I didn’t put much of Bong in here? But I couldn’t get it to sound right if I actually had James there? I dunno, but I hope you enjoy this!

‘Y’know, James has this thing he does with-’ Ah, it’s James now, is it? Harry truly did mean to pay attention to Eggsy’s rambling, the excited release of all the unused energy and feeling from the mission he’d just returned from. But he couldn’t help but focus on the ease with which Eggsy exclaimed Bond’s virtues after a collaborative mission.

It was a tried and true habit, for Eggsy to veritably hurl himself into Harry’s sitting room with barely a knock at the door and just start talking, and it was honestly something Harry loved. But today... today it was grating, and he did not want to admit to himself why that was.

‘I’m glad to see you and Mr. Bond getting along so famously- shall I assume that should we need to collaborate in the future...?’ Harry raised a brow and looked up from behind his glasses to where Eggsy was messing with his phone.

‘‘Course, Haz, anything you need.’ Eggsy’s grin was innocent, the wink he followed with less so, but at the least it was focused on him again. Not that he was acknowledging that.

‘What about what I don’t necessarily need?’ Harry kept his amusement to a faint twitching of his lips from behind his mug, barely believing that he was playing into the younger man’s quips and implications.

But, in a life like theirs, what true risk was there to having a bit of fun?

‘Lemme say bye to James, an’ I’m all yours.’

If there was one goal at the end of tonight, it would be for Eggsy to forget everything beyond their names.Taking Kingsman prompts! No guarantee on post schedule or quality but I will try!

[agentdagonet]

Still taking prompts?? Eggsy disappears every Friday night when he’s not on a mission and Harry (or Merlin) wants to know where he goes. He follows Eggsy to a pub that has dueling pianos. Turns out Eggsy is one of the pianists, and one of the favorites

So sorry for the wait! I promise that I am working on every prompt you all have sent to me. Than you for giving this chaotic and crazy time some meaning :)

So, @fandomrulesmylife fair warning, I have been to one (1) piano bar ever, and it was years ago, and I kind of just wrote whatever sounded like fun to me. I hope you like it!!

          ‘You do realise that I could have solved this mystery in minutes if you’d bother to give me the go ahead.’ Merlin grumbled, the sound of keys echoing behind.

          ‘Now where’s the fun in that?’ Harry smirked, unseen through the glasses feed, as he sat reading at a park bench.

          ‘You’re lucky I respect his privacy.’

          ‘Are you suggesting that I don’t?’

          ‘Yes.’

          ‘Well bully for you,’ Harry closed the book and placed it on the bench, ‘but I’m going to do this the old fashioned way.’

          ‘That’s a fancy way to say “I’m going to stalk my protege that I’m half in love with” Hart.’ However, Merlin continued to be on the line. He was silent for the few minutes of Harry meandering down the path before speaking up again. ‘Why didn’t you just ask him?’

          ‘Ah,’ Harry gasped, as if struck by a brilliant idea, ‘of course! Just ask him why, when he gets back to home soil, he disappears on Friday nights and comes home smelling of cigarettes and liquor. That doesn’t sound like the plot to a shitty sitcom at all, no, especially once you factor in my… affections.’

          ‘And, somehow, you believe that literally following him around would be better?’

          ‘Don’t you know,’ Harry spotted Eggsy down the way, ‘I live for the Drama.’  

          Eggsy didn’t quite run down the road, and nor did he parkour down alleys or otherwise draw attention to himself, but he did move at a fast pace and glance down at his wrist (since when did he wear a watch outside of Kingsman?) before cursing beneath his breath and continuing on. He was wearing his street clothes, black and gold and his Kingsman medal glinting in the lamplight, and Harry couldn’t help but admire the cut of him. Despite every change, and every improvement, Eggsy had managed to keep this piece of himself whole. It wasn’t a facade, or a costume, Eggsy was just as comfortable here in his element as he was on a mission in a full Kingsman suit, and of all things Harry found his confidence the most alluring.

          Harry was so distracted by watching him hurry down the kerb that he nearly missed his window to follow unseen.

          Eggsy made his way past the Prince and down a side street that Harry regularly ignored, due to being incredibly bland looking, before ducking into a door clearly marked ‘Staff Only.’ 

          Harry would claim to have waited an appropriate amount of time, but Merlin would call him a liar. The truth was that Merlin gave him the route to the front of the establishment so he could enter as an average client to-

          ‘Show, Don’t Tell? The fuck is he doing there?’ Merlin muttered, obviously knowing more about the business than Harry, as he made his way through the throng of people. At one end of the dimly-lit room sat a pair of obnoxiously coloured upright pianos, the other was dominated by a bar, and the entire space between was filled with tables obviously designed for patrons to stand at as opposed to sit. The floor seemed to be at a partial decline, as he was able to see both instruments clearly despite there being very little room to move in the first place.

          ‘You hear he’s back?’

          ‘It’s been nearly a month this time- I wonder where he goes.’

          Well that’s interesting. Harry allowed his gaze to flit about the room as he eavesdropped. Eggsy’s been in Uruguay nearly that long.

          ‘Honestly, though- he shows up, he out classes everyone they put in front of him, has a pint, and then he disappears again. He’s an enigma.’

          ‘Bloke’s allowed his secrets!’

          ‘I don’ need t’know his name or where he lives to know he’s talented as fuck and wasted wherever he’s workin’ at.’

          The lights dimmed further, and suddenly the crowd was hushing each other like children. There were still murmurs, the underlying white noise of conversation that pervaded any public space, but the vast majority of the chatter had stopped immediately.

          ‘Good evening everybody- normally we would have an introduction here, as you all know, but with the surprise return of our beloved and the presence of his arch nemesis,’ the audience chuckled, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder as to the story there, ‘we figured we’d just jump into this. You lot know the rules- jars at the front, cast your votes and your requests and you might just get lucky!’ Harry caught sight of the stacks of paper, set up almost like a silent auction, at a table near the front of the collective of tables.

          ‘Excuse me?’ Harry leant toward the nearest table, honestly confused if playing it up a bit, ‘I’m afraid I’ve never been here before- what are we supposed to do?’

          ‘You’re in for a treat, then- we’re glad to have ya,’ A man with dark hair and green eyes said, and offered his hand, ‘y’see where those people are crowded up now? You go up to the front an’ write down ‘n artist or somethin’ and you put a number next to it, an’ then put just the number on the other sheet. Any number. One of the players looks at the number sheet an’ picks, an’ the other’s got to play whatever they picked.

          ‘It’s a bit complicated- suggest watchin’ for a bit first- but there’s no real risk.’ The man shrugged, and Harry mulled it over in his head.

          ‘That sounds so convoluted- I want a dozen.’ Merlin chimed in, and Harry settled for saluting his glasses under the pretext of examining his cuticles in the nearly-nonexistent light.

          ‘Is there a goal?’ Harry asked.

          ‘Have a good time! The audience chooses who had the most fun and they get a ribbon.’  A woman with tight curls and a bright smile answered before turning back toward the stage. The last of the chatter died down, and a set of lights turned on above the pianos.

          ‘Let’s hear it for Rhys!’ Harry watched as an older gentleman did no less than swagger toward the piano on the left before standing in front of it. ‘And on our right is our beloved Giacomo!’

          Eggsy walked out, jacket swung over one shoulder like a model, and tossed it carelessly onto the bench. Harry’s mouth went dry at the smirk on his lips and the complete surety in his gaze as he looked over the audience like a king surveying his people. Harry fought not to look guilty for being in the audience, and tucked himself partially behind some seemingly regular patrons as Eggsy’s gaze neared.

          ‘Rhys has generously offered the opening number to Giacomo this evening- is he trying to curry some favour?’ The audience laughed, but Rhys raised a hand and they went silent.

          ‘It’s a welcome home present- even picked an old favourite!’ Rhys smirked, and that was certainly a code for something as people began shoving one another in seeming excitement. ‘Hope you warmed up on the way here, mate- give us your best Elton.’

          As Rhys had been speaking, Eggsy had settled himself at his piano, rolled his neck and stretched his arms in an arc Harry longed to trace with his fingertips.

          ‘Y’know, mate, let me tell you somethin’, I couldn’t’ve chosen better myself,’ Eggsy grinned, and looked straight at Harry, ‘This one’s for Haz,’ Eggsy winked, Harry flushed to the tips of his ears, and the audience went wild as Eggsy burst into motion.

It’s getting late have you seen my matesMa tell me when the boys get here 

          ‘Seems you got away with stalking this time, Galahad.’

Taking prompts!

[agentdagonet]

Here's a prompt! Merlahad, Kingsman verse, domestic habits/rituals when off-mission. Bonus if they make out a lot 😂 thank you

Okay, @mang-o, I doubt this is exactly what you wanted but I couldn’t help myself. Welcome to my strange headcanon of Merlahad having simple actions and/or foods prepared in certain ways that denote messages because of course our spy husbands have their own language. 

I don’t know how much sense it makes written out like this, but I couldn’t resist. 

‘… and that’s why I-’ Eggsy froze entirely as Harry swept into the room, placed a kiss to the top of Merlin’s head, and swept his way back out again. ‘The fuck was that?’

‘I assume you’re familiar with kisses, lad, if only in concept as opposed to experience-’

‘Oi!’

‘What’s the issue, Eggsy?’ Merlin rubbed at his temple with one hand, and Eggsy couldn’t help but check to see if there was a bright lipstick mark left where Harry’s lips had been. Like a bad cartoon, despite knowing logically that neither man wore lip colour outside of a mission’s necessity.

‘He didn’ say anythin’, just came in and-’

‘He’s out of the country for the night.’ Merlin stated plainly, as if it were common knowledge that when Harry was going to be out of the country for a mission he would kiss Merlin’s head without saying anything.

‘And?’

‘And nothing, Eggsy, perhaps when you’ve had a partner for more than a number of hours you’ll develop such rituals.’ Merlin shuffled the files in his hands without looking up.

‘You’re an arsehole.’

‘I’ve never claimed otherwise.’

—

Harry arrived on home soil with little fanfare, but there was a steaming cup of tea on his desk. He smiled as he ran a finger along the rim before picking it up to take a sip.

‘Ah, late night for Merlin, then- I’ll fetch some dinner for him before going home.’

—

Eggsy watched incredulously from the hall as Harry forced his way into Merlin’s office, arms laden with bags of takeaway and feet covered only by a pair of slippers shaped like sharks. He came closer to the doorjamb, eyebrows steadily climbing his face, to watch Harry.

Harry arranged the takeaway on the small table by the sofa, for the most part- though he did put a few bags into the small refrigerator sat by Merlin’s desk. He pulled out what had to be the softest looking blanket he’d ever seen from somewhere and nodded once before leaving the office, sans note, having been without his glasses for the entirety of the moment.

Hours after, Merlin was tucked away in their blanket and knew that by the time he woke tomorrow Harry would be across the world once again.

—

Merlin was halfway through his cold egg rolls for breakfast when he looked up to find a confused Roxanne with a thermos.

‘I- uh, to be honest I’m not sure what I’m doing here, sir. But, I had a note with some very specific instructions sent to me from the Arthur line so…’ She shrugged, and held the thermos ahead of her like it was some kind of explosive.

Merlin allowed himself to smile at her as he took the thermos from her grip before opening it to take a whiff of the contents. He made a face and offered it back, but Roxy grinned as she stepped back.

‘There were instructions, sir.’ She nodded once before walking out, and Merlin could hear her laughter echo down the hall.

He hated unexpected delays.

—

Eggsy’d given up on figuring out Merlin and Harry’s relationship. Not that was really any of his business in the first place, but work’s work and gossip’s gossip. It was part of being forced to spend ungodly amounts of hours surrounded by the same people for far too long to contemplate.

But this was just a step too far.

‘I get it, you’re happily married or whatever but get the fuck off of my desk!’ Eggsy didn’t yell, though he did raise his voice, at the sight of Merlin rather enthusiastically pinning Harry to his desk to snog. At least, that’s all Eggsy thought- hoped- was happening on his desk.

To no surprise, he was given a matching set of v’s in return with no pause to the wet noises or muffled groaning. With a huff he left the room, locking it fully with the biometrics he hadn’t told Merlin he’d installed.

They’d be let out when he wanted them to be, and maybe they’d find a different room the next time they were “making up for lost time.”

Taking Kingsman prompts! Will attempt anything once!