Prompt: Energetic Broadway Eggsy rehearsing with his director Merlin, whom's getting really frustrated of the way the actor's attention is drawn towards the corner of the stage where the new benefactor Harry Hart is watching the new performer and UST is happening. Pretty please. The prettiest please?
A/N: A warning for some light language. I hope it’s what you wanted. Enjoy!
A shout from the seats below makes Eggsy pause mid-step, an irritated sigh threatening to bubble up from the back of his throat. Merlin huffs as he heaved himself up onto the stage, his sneakers squeaking horribly on the stage floor.
“It’s one, two, three. four, five, five, six…” The bald man demonstrates the steps slowly, so that Eggsy can watch, despite the fact that he’s done these steps about a hundred times in the past hour alone. It’s not that Eggsy doesn’t know the steps, he does, thank you very much, it’s just that there’s a man who’s in the corner stage left, who’s watching Eggsy like somehow Eggsy’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and Eggsy would be flattered, but rehearsals are closed to the general public. Though, to look at him, that gentleman is not what Eggsy would call general public.
There’s something about the way he sits, posture seamless, watching Eggsy very carefully, his suit immaculately neat, even as he sits forward the slightest bit. Eggsy tears his gaze away from the corner of the room to focus on the dance moves so that Merlin, the reputedly magical director didn’t yell at him again.
Eggsy catches the mystery man’s eye a few times throughout the next few hours, but by the time he’s done with the rigorous routine, it’s late and he’s tired, and all he wants to do is go home to JB and tell Rox how awful this whole thing is. Of course, things could always be worse.
But from where Eggsy’s at on stage, bum glued to the floor and muscles aching, things don’t look bad at all.
The mystery man’s speaking to Merlin, and Merlin’s Scottish brogue is loud in the quiet of the hall.
“Of course, Mr. Hart,” Merlin says and Eggsy’s chugging a bottle of water when he hears Merlin call to him. “Eggsy, there’s someone who’d like to meet you.”
Eggsy nearly chokes on the water and decides that this Mr. Hart is thoroughly and utterly fuckable, because the man in question is staring as Eggsy approaches, and it’s very hard not to notice the way the older man’s eyes are following the dark patches of sweat on his t-shirt and the way Eggsy’s sweats are clinging to his bum, which mind you, is uncomfortable as fuck, but the man’s staring and Eggsy slides down to meet him, despite this.
“Eggsy,” Mr. Hart says, his brown eyes shuttered as he gives Eggsy a once over, and Eggsy loves the way his name sounds in a posh mouth, “It’s good to meet you. I’m Harry Hart, but please, call me Harry.”
I’ll call you anything you want me to.
“Pleasure, M'Gary Unwin, but everyone calls me Eggsy.” Eggsy takes the hand offered to him and loves the smooth, firm grip, the way Harry’s fingers fold around and envelop his.
“I understand you’re the lead in the musical? You’re young, aren’t you, for this stage?”
“I went to Julliard. I’ve just finished my last year.”
Mr. Hart considers him for a moment, brown eyes narrowing behind his glasses. Eggsy glances over at Merlin, where he’s flicking through a script, attempting to look disinterested, but the sharp lines of his body, the tense stance of his shoulders betray him.
“You know, I have people who can get you the best publicity, if you’re interested… I’ll give you my card.”
Eggsy stutters then, and the only comprehensible thing that comes out is, “Thanks,” before he accepts the paper between two fingers.
When Mr. Hart has moved away to speak to Merlin, Eggsy flips the card over, aware of the ink that stains his skin.
Dinner tonight? 8 o’ clock sharp, Rosa’s on second avenue.
Eggsy glances over at Harry, catching a nod from where he stands with Merlin, a small smile lifting his lips.
Eggsy thinks he might like the adventures that come after, and it turns out, he’s not wrong.
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