five times kissed
FIVE TIMES KISSED - selectively accepting.
@wrongalahad
1. he’s exhausted. exhausted and angry because nothing went according to plan. his left side hurts like a bitch and he’s pretty sure one of his ribs his fractured. worst part isn’t the wheezing, though, isn’t the fact that he can barely feel his fingers, it’s unwin blabbing on about how they were supposed to have been picked up ten, twenty, thirty, fourty-five minutes ago. he’s leaning against the fence, eyes closed and trying to breathe without feeling like he is gonna faint and he considers asking merlin if he can get a big fat raise for dealing with this. for not strangling the boy just to make him shut the fuck up ––– and he knows it’s not on him, knows it’s not eggsy’s fault all of this went tits up ( in fact, it was charlie. it was charlie and his fucking need to be heroic, to somehow proof himself and handle something on his own he knew the other agent was better suited for … ). truth is, he appreciates that eggsy isn’t rubbing it in his face, doesn’t know if it’s out of the kindness of his heart or just because he’s too caught up in his anger fueled tirade about kingsman. he opens his eyes to blink at the sky, once and then again - finds himself wondering if it’s going to rain. that would be just his luck. but instead he just groans, turns to look at the other agent and bends ( even though it fucking stings ). “you worry to much, eggy.” the smirk on his lips is sly and wry, the angle uncomfortable but what’s a little more pain, really ?! it’s a quick peck on his nose, hand he isn’t putting his weight on coming up to pinch the other agent’s cheek. “we’re done - mission accomplished, now stop bitching and let’s get back to hq. with that, he manages to push himself up, suppresses the gasp and just takes a moment to breathe, to re-calibrate. unwin might not be the worst partner there is. he’s still gonna request that raise.
2. “would you fuckin’ WATCH IT ?!” he tries to withdraw his hand, wriggle it out of eggsy’s grip, a comment sitting at the tip of his tongue how he doesn’t want to lose that arm as well. but unwin, being the obnoxious pain in the ass that he is, doesn’t let him. holds on tight and just glares at him - the look on his face enough to actually shut charlie up, for once ( a goddamn miracle, the grip he has on him - he’s not talking about the hand ). he knows he’s being a baby about this, that it really isn’t that bad. gash oozing blood but the damage seems to be surface level only. the first aid kit is absolute and utter shit - or maybe unwin just sucks at being a nurse ( or maybe charlie sucks at being a patient ) but he pours a generous amount of disinfectant over the wound almost making charlie yelp. the antiseptic wipe pressed against the deep cut and a subtle twitch of unwins lips. “what? you think this is funny?” he doesn’t answer until he’s butting bandages on his arm ( too fuckin’ tight, unwin! ) but the smirk doesn’t falter. “yeah. a little bit.” and the cheeky retort sitting at the tip of his tongue is cut off by unwin pressing down against the wound, looking smug and very punchable. “all done - want me to give ya a kiss t’ make it better ?” brow raised, a challenging look on his face … charlie can’t believe he’s ever thought the boy to be innocent or soft. and despite the heat rushing to his cheeks he almost growls out a “fuckin’ DARE YOU.” –––– just turns out eggsy’s never been one to step away from a challenge and before he knows it, lips are pressed against a bandaged hand. not so much a kiss as just the young agent pressing a shit eating grin against charlie’s covered skin, but still. he only withdraws his hand ( a little too late ) after eggsy mutters a “m’ lady.” against the fabric and laughs.
3. training just got tough. not like the water test wasn’t - not like the sparring and tinkering and written tests weren’t tough but this was next level. they are all aching, all exhausted. he can see it on roxy’s face, can feel it in the way his own voice somehow sounds too far away, off, like he is about to drift to sleep any second now. and eggsy? eggsy is out cold against his side, his head on his shoulder - not intentionally, it happened about two road bumps ago and neither he nor roxy mentioned it though he knows it raises questions on her part. like why he isn’t shoving eggsy away, why he lets him do this, why he doesn’t seem to mind unwin drooling on his shoulder. but there are a few cuts on the boy’s face, there’s ashes in his hair and despite this just being training? he almost feels his chest swell with bride when he thinks about how seemingly effortless eggsy’s handled that. he assumes the whole thing was designed to test how well they behave under pressure, in danger. and while he, himself, didn’t hesitate to get into the burning room, it was eggsy who stayed in control of the situation. no wonder he is knackered now. –– it’s something he doesn’t care about with roxy, something he doesn’t mention. though he doubts she is buying it for even one second, the now fake animosity between the two. with rufus and digby still present, maybe it was believable. but there is no way roxy doesn’t know what’s going on, doesn’t know about them sneaking off at night, doesn’t see the way he sometimes looks at eggsy … so he inhales, stares blankly ahead but focusses on the weight against his side. “i’m worried about him.” it’s whispered even though there’s no doubt in his mind eggsy is not going to wake up for at least a day and a half. “rox - he’s not cut out for this.” ironic, considering he beat him at almost every test. but he isn’t spy material. he’s watched them. merlin, galahad, arthur. they are all fucking miserable, they are lonely, they are reckless and unlikable. not him, though. not eggsy. “i don’t know what this is gonna do to him and i’m worried.” when he looks at her, he sees something akin to pity in her eyes. for eggsy, maybe. or maybe for charlie - because he’s dangerously close to turning this into something he can not just walk away from and somehow he feels like she can tell. it’s a tidal wave of emotions he isn’t prepared for, has to blink so he doesn’t tear up and instead ends up pressing his face into eggsy’s hair. it smells like fire, like dirt and shampoo. he presses his lips against the crown of the boys head and inhales, squeezes his eyes shut and prays that roxy will beat them both.
4. considering that they’ve been doing this for so long, it really shouldn’t hit him so hard that he is in love with eggsy unwin. the amount of times he’s had the boy underneath him, begging and gasping and very naked … it’s hardly a surprise, really, that eventually charlie got attached. because he’s stupid like that - can’t stick to his own rules. he remembers his father talking to him about order, about following them, about how if you don’t, chaos erupts. and as much as he loathes the man, he can’t help but feel that he might be right when he’s lying there looking at a sleeping eggsy, feeling every inch of his body ache for him. he wants to reach out, wants to touch - his fingers twitching, desperate to run through dirty blonde hair, dance over his spine to press into his lower back. he looks so peaceful like that, so pretty –––– he wonders if he’s aware of it. yeah, eggsy jokes about it a lot, about how he’s hot and how he has the “finest ass in all of london” (probably not even wrong) but charlie wonders if he knows how truly beautiful he is. he looks soft like that, innocent and he can feel his heart contracting in his chest, hurting, beating faster and then not at all … this stopped being just sex when he’s had his first panic attack and eggsy asked if he was okay. this started being love in this very moment. eggsy stirs and charlie almost chuckles. maybe he’s a mindreader, maybe the boy is aware of what is happening right next to him, knows that charlie is having a small crises over how badly he wants to kiss him. when eggsy opens his eyes, groans and presses his face back into the pillow only to turn and look at charlie seconds later, he does just that. he leans in without a word, not a care for morning breath or the fact that their kisses are usually heated, needy, desperate. and DESPERATE is what that one is, too. only it’s not lust that has him close his eyes and press against the boy, it’s not lust that makes him reach up to cup a sharp jaw, trace it with his fingertips. it’s the fact that he physically can not stop himself from doing it. this will backfire and he knows. because not following his own orders, orders in general, always backfires. it’s just that he doesn’t care that this is going to blow up in his face, tear him to pieces, hurt more than anything he’s ever had to endure. the boy will leave one day and move on and charlie will be left behind in pieces. doesn’t matter. he’s ridiculously in love with eggsy unwin.
5. he always imagined it would hurt. dying. at least like this - in the middle of fucking nowhere, his ears ringing from the explosion and his vision blurry. he assumes there’s a certain irony to it, that in the end, it’s an explosion that kills him off. makes him feel like he has come full circle ( and who can really say that about their life, huh? ) he wants to laugh, manages a weird gurgling sound and tastes copper on his tongue, too much of it to not be blood. he spits, tries to move to his side to cough the rest out but he can barely feel his body. it’s all numb, like his senses are already given up before his organs catch on. he has half a mind to deliver one last spiteful message to merlin /why the fuck are the suits bulletproof but don’t do jack shit against explosives? poor thinking on your part, mate/ but he’s lacking the energy. and in truth? he doesn’t want merlin’s last thoughts of him to be something along the lines of wishing for him to die quicker. he can not even tell if it’s raining, knows the puddle he’s currently lying in is too thick and sticky to be water and he closes his eyes for a second, silently grateful that it was over quicker years ago, for his mother. he really should’ve stayed away from all of this … then again, at least now he is dying for something. at least now it’s not wasted, not for nothing ( fingers tightly wrapped around the flash drive - when they find his body, they are gonna look for it ). it’s not that surprising that his last thoughts are of him. the truth is he doesn’t have much else worth holding on to but that boy. the only comforting thought, eggsy being far away enough from all of this with him being the one insisting to go out here and eggsy staying back to keep an eye on the premise… he can hear him in his head, distant, muffled, but he’s there. charlie almost smiles. smiles and then frowns because he gets louder, louder, clearer, less muffled. he sounds panicked - screaming something ( takes him a moment to realize he’s screaming his name. takes him another one to open his eyes with a gasp when he realizes the voice isn’t in his head ). he barely feels the pressure of eggsy’s hands when the boy falls to his knees next to him, barely recognizes him frantically searching his body for the source of the bleeding ( he wants to tell him two hands won’t be enough for this ) ––––––– it’s hard to see, but he blinks through the settling dust and vaguely makes out his face, his eyes and his heart feels heavy at the look on the boy’s face. he seems horrified, in pain maybe and suddenly charlie is not so okay with dying here, doesn’t want to leave him behind like that. it’s with a shaky hand that he reaches up, covers eggsy’s, makes him STOP moving for a second and the boy’s gaze falls on his face, eyes wide with horror, brows furrowed then almost in anger. somehow he has blood on his face, too ( charlie’s, no doubt ) and he wants to reach up to wipe it away but his arm is too heavy ––––– “eggy.” own voice foreign, too raw, too far away. “eggy, it’s okay.” he tugs on the boys hand, tugs until eggsy stops fighting ( he can’t see it but he thinks he might be crying ), tugs until he can bring it to his face, presses his mouth against the back of eggsy’s hand, breathes against his warm skin while he can feel his own hand go cold. there are worse ways to go, he assumes. worse ways to die than with the one you love. “ ’is okay. l- love you.” and it’s a mixture of his name and merlin’s that the boy is shouting, then. stubborn as ever. he imagines it’s a “charlie” he hears last.
