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Chapter Text

1.

It was Harry’s first mission after recovering from The Incident, and it proved to be a very eventful one at that. It was just his luck that Eggsy was his partner in what was supposed to be a simple extraction of information from a multi-millionaire businessman, who actually happens to be running an underground operation on drug trafficking.

But alas, the universe had other plans for the new Arthur and his protegé.

“Merlin, where the bloody fuck is back-up?!” yelled Eggsy in agitation, ducking behind an upturned couch as bullets flew over where his head was mere seconds ago.

“They’re five minutes away, Galahad,” said Merlin calmly, but his voice was tinged with concern at the sudden turn of events. “Just hold on for a bit longer.”

“We’ve been holding on for ten minutes for fuck’s sake,” growled Eggsy after firing a couple of rounds at the armed men. He saw two go down while three more entered through the broken wooden door of the hotel they were staying at.

The new Kingsman looked to his right where Harry was crouched behind the overturned armchair. The older man was reloading his gun, hair still impeccable despite the situation and a steely glint in his eyes.

It was that particular expression on his face that gave Eggsy pause, terrified that his mentor and friend might do something incredibly stupid like risk his life by taking down at least seven armed men on his own.

With Eggsy, of course. But still.

“There’s only one way out of this, gentlemen,” remarked Harry calmly, as if the situation they were currently in is akin to a walk in the park.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Harry,” warned Eggsy, glaring hard at his friend and gripping his gun tightly. “You just got out of hospital, for fuck’s sake. This was only supposed to be a simple mission -“

“I am perfectly well and capable, Galahad,” interrupted Harry a little coldly as he shot two men - both on the head - who made the mistake of looking away from his hiding spot. “And presently, I can think of a better thing to do than have this conversation right now, and it most certainly does not involve talking.”

He was too busy taking down another man - this one carrying a semi-automatic rifle and was closest to Eggsy’s hiding spot - to see his protegé’s hurt look.

“Back-up is two minutes away,” interrupted Merlin suddenly, his voice crisp. “Best to get on with the show, gentlemen.”

“Well, you heard the man,” said Harry to Eggsy, giving the younger man an ‘I-told-you-so’ look.

Eggsy frowned disapprovingly but nonetheless unsheathed two small knives from the soles of his oxfords.

“Doesn’t mean I’m fuckin’ alright with it,” he grumbled while perfectly hitting an opponent in the eye with the small blade.

All hell broke loose after that, and by the time back-up had arrived - in the form of Lancelot and Gawain - the entire living room was in shambles and filled with the lifeless bodies of their opponents.

But what caused Lancelot to raise her eyebrows in mild surprise, and for Merlin to grumble unintelligible words under his breath over the comm, was the bleeding form of Eggsy - who took a bullet for Harry by jumping in front of the older man in a desperate attempt to keep him safe.

It was worth seeing the now soft, concerned look Harry gave him, though.

Chapter Text

2.

Harry was on a mission on his own - a honeypot, to be precise - when the situation went remarkably tits up. Eggsy, who was stationed at the rendezvous point with Percival, heard from Merlin that the new Arthur needed back-up.

Immediately.

“Wha’ the fuck did ‘e do now?” groaned Eggsy.

Percival, who was driving the SUV at an alarming speed, smirked and said, “Something stupid, I presume.”

Eggsy gave the older man the stink eye as he gritted out, “You don’ fuckin’ say, Percy.”

“Please don’t call me Percy,” said Percival blandly, expression devoid of emotion.

Eggsy just rolled his eyes and addressed Merlin over the comm.

“Merlin, what’s the status on Ha-Arthur’s end?”

It was a few seconds before Merlin replied.

“Not so well, Galahad.”

Fuck, he knows that tone. He knows it too well because he’s been on the receiving end of that tone for months now, thanks to a reckless Harry Fucking Hart.

“Merlin, what. Is. Harry’s. Status?” asked Eggsy again through gritted teeth, his fists clenched on his lap.

“He was about to get off the elevator at the ground floor when he was cornered by Ms. Watson’s henchmen,” said Merlin, and Eggsy could hear him typing furiously. “Five, to be exact. Arthur almost took them out when he got hit over the head by a sixth member. Currently, they have Harry tied to a chair back in Ms. Watson’s hotel room.”

Letting out a string of expletives, Eggsy loaded his guns before cuffing his sleeves and putting on his suit jacket.

Percival tutted. “Oh, he’s losing his touch.”

Eggsy glared at the man. “He ain’t lost his touch. He’s bein’ his reckless self, s’what. An' fuckin’ drive faster, for God’s sake.” He added as an afterthought.

A minute later, Percival parked on a vacant spot one block from the hotel before he and Eggsy got out.

“He’s located in Room 403 on the 4th floor,” said Merlin. “He’s currently being interrogated by Ms. Watson herself. There are three men inside with another two guarding the door. And there’s another one guarding the elevator.”

“Ta, Merlin,” spoke Percival quietly as he and Eggsy entered the Langham Hotel. “So what’s the plan, Galahad?”

“What makes you think I have a plan?” asked Eggsy, amused but flattered at the same time.

Percival smirked at the younger man. “Because this mission involves Harry and it’s a well-known fact amongst all Kingsman agents that when it comes to him, you’re practically a mother hen.”

Eggsy couldn’t, for the life of him, bother to correct that assumption. Instead, he let out an amused huff and nodded his head once as they slowly approached the elevator.

“We take the elevator, I pretend to be all over you, an' you ‘accidentally’ knock out the first bloke as I take down the other two,” he explained as they enter the elevator, pushing the 4 button and waiting for the doors to close.

“That’s your plan?” asked Percival, eyebrow raised.

Raising one of his own, Eggsy countered with, “Considerin' that the only objective I 'ave in mind is to get Harry to safety, then yeah, that’s my plan. Could honestly care less what happens to them blokes an' bird - s’long as Harry’s safe.”

“Gentlemen,” interrupted Merlin. “I lost feed on Harry; last I saw was one of Watson’s men punching him.”

Clenching his jaw in anger, Eggsy took out his gun, Percival looking at him in surprise.

“I suppose our plan is no longer in motion,” he said calmly, following Eggsy’s lead and taking out his own gun and switching the safety off.

“Fuck the plan, let’s improvise,” said Eggsy abruptly, a scowl etched on his face.

Goddamn it, Harry.

The elevator dinged when they reached the fourth floor, and when the doors opened, Eggsy didn’t hesitate to walk out and shoot the man hovering by.

Nobody hurts Harry and gets away with it.

----------

“I suppose that’s your extraction team, Mr. Hart?” asked Ms. Watson coldly, her beautiful face fixed with a sneer. "I’m surprised it took them this long to rescue you."

Spitting out blood on the carpet floor, Harry Hart shrugged nonchalantly. He had a black eye and a split lip, plus his nose was bleeding but he didn’t think it was broken. His wrists and ankles were tied securely on each arm and leg of the wooden chair, and he could feel his ribs aching in protest from the punches Ms. Watson’s henchmen gave him. His Kingsman glasses lay broken at his feet from where one of the men landed a mean right hook earlier.

He sometimes hates it for being a cheeky bastard. Only sometimes.

“You know you’re not getting away with this,” he said, smirking through the pain in his ribs.

“Oh, I know,” said Ms. Watson without a beat. “Which is why I’m going to put a bullet through your brain before your team can barge in.”

Not again, Harry groaned to himself. Once is enough, twice is too fucking much.

“You can try,” he said instead, an air of nonchalance about him but it was far from what he was currently feeling. “But I highly doubt that you will succeed since I have two of my best agents outside.”

Ms. Watson tsked and took Harry’s gun from the bedside table where she placed it earlier. She switched the safety off before aiming the gun between his eyes.

She opened her mouth to say something when the door suddenly burst open. Eggsy and Percival entered with class, bespoke suits and hair impeccable as they aimed their guns at their opponents.

Eggsy saw red when he saw the state of Harry's being, and he didn’t hesitate shooting the gun from Ms. Watson’s hand, and firing another shot at her head.

She fell to the ground in a graceless heap, and Eggsy smirked inwardly at that.

“Ah, hello, Galahad,” greeted Harry with a smile, flinching at his split lip.

“Don’t you fuckin’ ‘hello, Galahad’ me, you reckless wanker,” growled Eggsy as he kneeled before him and started untying the sailor knots.

Percival took care of the other three blokes, firing two shots at one’s knees while breaking the neck of another’s. The last bloke proved to be a bit of a struggle, but the experienced agent managed to twist his arm and shoot him at the back of his skull.

He turned around just in time to see Galahad rub Arthur’s sore wrists, the latter looking at him in amusement while the former tried so hard to stay angry but his concern for their leader won over.

Smiling to himself, Percival spoke over the comm to Merlin.

“Merlin, Arthur has been extracted. We are about to leave now.”

Merlin’s voice came over the receiver almost immediately. “Glad to hear that. Great job, Percival and Galahad. Now get your arses out of the hotel before staff arrives in less than two minutes.” He added the last one gruffly.

“Noted.”

Percival went to help Eggsy manoeuvre Harry out of the chair, but the latter batted their hands away before standing up on wobbly legs.

“Harry, you have broken ribs,” scolded Eggsy, moving to assist him again.

Harry batted his hands away again before taking a tentative step forward. He didn’t make it three paces before his knees collapsed under him. If it weren’t for Eggsy’s fast reflexes, he would’ve landed on his arse and ain’t that a sight.

“Stubborn, reckless, impossible, wanker,” muttered Eggsy under his breath as he wrapped an arm around the older man’s waist, his other hand guiding one of Harry’s arms around his neck to help support him.

“We should take the fire exit before we’re caught,” suggested Percival. Eggsy nodded and they walked as fast as they can towards the exit.

“I can hear you, you know,” said Harry, interrupting Eggsy’s mutterings.

“Shut up,” growled Eggsy. “You don’ get to say anotha’ damn word until we’re safe in th’ car, you ‘ear me?”

It took them several minutes to reach the rendezvous vehicle, and a few more to get Harry as comfortable as he can be. Percival drove while Eggsy sat at the back with Harry, tending to the injuries on his face with care. Though, the younger man’s expression remained stiff.

“I don’t understand why you’re so riled up over this, Eggsy,” remarked Harry in between gasps of pain. “We’re Kingsman agents. We’re bound to get knocked up a bit every once in a while.”

Eggsy didn’t reply, continuing to clean Harry’s bloodied face with disinfectant, much to the latter’s chagrin.

“Eggsy,” started Harry again, but Eggsy beat him to it.

“Just stay still and shut up, Harry,” he said, voice tight and laced with an emotion that Harry can’t pinpoint. "Please.”

It was that certain word when he acquiesced with a stiff nod, sitting back and trying to ignore the pain in his ribs.

The rest of the car ride was spent in uncomfortable silence, and it was when they were halfway to HQ when Percival decided to turn the radio on, Paul Rodgers crooning the lyrics to All Right Now.

Oh, the irony, said Percival to himself, mentally shaking off the tension he could feel from the two oblivious agents behind him.

Chapter Text

3.

“For the last time, Eggsy, you’re not coming with me,” stated Harry firmly, both hands planted on the table as he gave the youngest Kingsman agent a stern look.

“Like that’s gon’ stop me."

Eggsy huffed, not the least bit perturbed as he crossed his arms and raised his chin a little higher for emphasis.

The two stood a few feet from each other in Harry’s office at HQ, backs stiff as they stared each other down for what felt like hours. They had been arguing for the past twenty minutes and it was apparent that both were too stubborn to back down.

It had been six weeks since the first failed mission when Eggsy took a bullet for Harry, and two since the disastrous honeypot incident. The new Arthur was still recuperating from the injuries he acquired during the last operation when he decided to take over another, courtesy of Merlin. Well, not exactly, since he ordered - well, demanded, really - Merlin to give him a new mission. This time, however, the mission will take place in Prague, and Harry had an early flight to catch in the morning.

But the new Galahad had other plans. Once Eggsy heard of the news from Roxy (bless her), he immediately left the gym from where he was instructing the new recruits for the position of Mordred to come barging in Harry’s office to give him an earful about taking on another mission whilst in the middle of recovering from his injuries.

“Eggsy,” started Harry, this time in a soft voice. Egis’s stance relaxed a little but his face remained impassive. “Eggsy, you have to understand. It is imperative that I leave. This mission is -“

“That mission can be given to either Percival or Lancelot,” interrupted Eggsy, voice like steel. “Hell, I could even take over the entire operation an' I’ll be done in less than a week, no matter ‘ow dangerous it is. But you, Harry, you are far from fully recovered an' I’ll be damned if I’m goin’ to let you leave without a fight.”

Harry sighed, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He put them back on as he looked up to regard his protégé with a pointed look.

“Just to remind you that I am your boss,” he said quietly, and his tone gave Eggsy pause to what he was about to say. “I appreciate your concern for my well-being, but I draw the line on your opinions on the decisions I make as Arthur. You needn’t stress over this, Eggsy. I am a grown man - a Kingsman agent - and I will not turn my back on my responsibilities.”

“But this is suicide, Harry!” exclaimed Eggsy, brows furrowed into a frown and eyes shining with unconcealed emotion. “Can’t you just wait for another week before you’re fully healed?”

“I told you –“

“- Or assign this to some other agent? Hell, the offer still stands - let me accompany you!”

“Enough, Galahad!” Harry spoke loudly, shocking Eggsy into silence. “I expected you to be professional about this, but now you’re acting like a doting mother hen, and I will not accept such petty behaviour from you.”

Eggsy couldn’t hide the flash of hurt he felt, and he was sure Harry saw it because the older man’s stony look softened, a brief look of guilt passing over his face before it settled for impassive.

The silence was bordering on uneasiness when Eggsy decided to break it.

“The offer still stands. Let me accompany you, instead.”

“No,” came Harry’s resolute response. “I will not risk your safety -“

“Nor will I risk yours!” interrupted the young Galahad heatedly. Silence greeted them again for several seconds before Eggsy continued vehemently. “Wha’ is the matter with you? Ever since you’ve recovered from the Valentine incident, you’ve been incredibly reckless when on missions. An' not to mention that you’ve become even more stubborn than usual. I just… I don’t understand, and I want to understand. Wha’ has happened to make you act like this, Harry?”

He couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice, and Eggsy knew in that moment that Harry held all the cards now. But the older man didn’t reply at once. Instead, he let his gaze rest on Eggsy’s for a long while before breathing out a reply.

“Life happened,” he said slightly cautiously, and Eggsy was about to open his mouth to retort when Harry beat him to it. “I am not the same man I used to be when we met all those months ago, Eggsy. I may have recovered physically, but that does not mean that the part of me I lost that day recovered as well. I ask of you now… not to hold me in a place where I cannot meet your expectations. I am only human, and I will make mistakes. Because of that, I will get hurt. And it comes part and parcel with the job description that Kingsman has laid out.

So please, respect me as your leader, and let me make my own decisions. I don’t need you shadowing me all the time, Eggsy. I sincerely thank you for your help all these past several weeks, but I can handle myself.”

Eggsy opened his mouth then closed it, and then opened it again. Eventually, he closed his mouth shut and nodded - face devoid of emotion.

Harry nodded once and moved to take a seat behind his desk. It was a dismissal if Eggsy saw one, and he moved his stiff body to open the door. Before he stepped out of the room, however, he looked back over his shoulder at Harry who was looking down at his iPad.

“Jus’ so you know,” he said earnestly, voice wavering slightly. Mentally, he kicked himself for it, but what’s done is done. Harry looked up form his reading to meet Eggsy’s blue-green eyes. “Everythin’ I've done was jus’ to keep you safe. It wasn’t to show off or try to be the hero or somethin’. I jus’ wanted to keep you safe ‘cos you matter to me.”

And with a final nod and half smile, Eggsy left the room with a soft click as he closed the door after him.

“And everything I’ve done and still continue to do is to keep you safe as well,” whispered Harry quietly to the empty room. Slumping on his seat, he didn’t voice out what he really meant:

You are the most important person to me and I’m trying my best to protect you from me.

----------

It was nearing evening when Eggsy arrived at the shop from HQ. He thanked the geniuses behind the creation of the bullet train as he went down the stairs two at a time to hear Andrew greet him a good evening.

“Is my ride outside, Andrew?” asked Eggsy after he greeted the tailor.

Andrew nodded his head as he started packing up. “It has been waiting outside for about ten minutes now, Mr. Unwin. Have a safe trip home.”

“Will do. Thanks, mate.”

With a final nod, Eggsy walked out of the Kingsman tailor shop, removing his glasses and pocketing it in his suit jacket pocket. His ride, in the form of a cab similar to Harry’s (standard Kingsman vehicle, apparently), was parked on the curb - engine roaring quietly. There was another cab parked in front of it, but Eggsy ignored it - thinking it was probably Harry's ride. Eggsy flinched a bit at letting his driver wait too long, still not exactly used to having one at his beck and call.

“Sorry ‘bout the long wait, Liam,” Eggsy said by way of greeting as he got in the cab.

His driver didn’t bother to reply as the car then slowly pulled out of the curb. That should’ve already rung an alarm in Eggsy’s head but he was too preoccupied to notice the minute details. Instead, he settled in his seat for the ride back home, where he would be having dinner with his mum and baby sister, Daisy.

The argument he had with Harry was still at the forefront of his mind. Even when he was barking orders at the new recruits to do a hundred push-ups or run twenty laps around the field, he was still going over the conversation they had that afternoon. It was true that Harry’d changed. Hell, even Eggsy had changed after the Valentine incident. Roxy and Merlin and Percival - basically, everyone who was affected by the massacre - had changed in one way or another. Though, these changes were only subtle, it still left quite an impact.

Eggsy wondered, briefly, if it were him in Harry’s place who got shot by Valentine in Kentucky - if he would’ve also lost a part of himself there. The answer would be a definite yes. It’s true, Harry wasn’t the same person he was when Eggsy first met him outside the police station. He was more… impulsive. Impulsive and - for lack of a better term - stubborn. Huffing out a breath of exasperation, Eggsy willed himself to stop thinking about Harry and the situation and just relax.

He sighed deeply, looking out the window to check how long ‘till he reaches home. What he saw made him frown. He knew the place but was uncertain as to why the route Liam took only lead him farther from the Kingsman residences. It appeared he was along Piccadilly Circus, so he moved forward to talk to Liam through the rear-view mirror only to freeze in shock.

It wasn’t Liam driving the cab. Hell, it wasn’t even a human being driving! It was a fucking mannequin dressed to look like Liam, its hands glued somehow to the steering wheel.

“What the fuckin’ hell,” Eggsy muttered to himself in alarm. He moved back in his seat to open the door, but as if the vehicle had a mind of its own, it immediately locked.

Eggsy cursed and then attempted to manually unlock his side of the door to no avail. He then tried to roll down the window, but it wouldn't budge. He’d try to shoot or break the window but it was bulletproof and impenetrable. Fuck, he was trapped and he had no weapons with him as he left it all at dressing room two. Considering that his Kingsman-sponsored flat was well-equipped with arsenal, he never bothered taking home The Rainmaker nor the Ignite the Light with him.

What a huge, fuckin' mistake it was.

Swiftly remembering that he placed his Kingsman glasses inside his suit jacket pocket, he immediately took it out and wore it, turning on the device to alert Merlin of his situation.

“Merlin, this is Galahad,” he uttered as calmly as he can, his heart hammering against his chest. “We have a bit of a situation, mate.”

It was several seconds before Merlin’s voice came over the comm.

“This is Merlin,” he responded. “What seems to be the situation, Galahad?”

Eggsy opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it.

He looked to his right as the cab drove past the Queen’s Theatre. Furrowing his brows in confusion, he couldn’t get a grasp on what route he was being lead to as it was very sporadic.

“Hello? Galahad? Eggsy?” asked Merlin again, his voice growing concerned. “What’s going on?"

Eggsy shook himself from his thoughts as he spoke hastily, “Merlin, I fucked up. I mean, I’ve been compromised - well, actually, Kingsman’s been compromised. I’m in someone’s cab - I thought it was mine, but I’ve been so distracted I didn’t check, fuck - and I don’t know where it’s driving me to.”

“What do you mean you don’t know where it’s driving you to?” asked Merlin, perplexed. “Ask the driver, maybe you got in Harry’s car.”

“Merlin,” uttered Eggsy through gritted teeth. “I am locked in a Kingsman-replica cab with a fuckin’ mannequin made to look like Liam as a driver.”

There was silence at the end of the line before Eggsy heard Merlin curse and type furiously in his keyboard.

“Where are you?” came Merlin’s voice over the comm. “And did you try unlocking the door or smashing the window?”

“No such luck, mate,” replied Eggsy, looking around the cab for an object or a weapon - anything, really - to give him leverage of the situation. “I got past Queen’s Theatre a while ago, and we’re about to turn a right. I - I think we’re approaching Leicester Square, Merlin.”

“Hang on, I’m hacking into the CCTV’s,” said Merlin, still typing furiously.

Eggsy was about to say something when he heard a static in front of him. He looked down to see the video screen come to life, and instead of a face, text appeared.

“Merlin,” breathed Eggsy as he read the first few lines. “Merlin, are you seeing this?"

“Bloody hell,” he heard Merlin say, but Eggsy was distracted with what he was reading before him.

Hello, Mr. Hart.

Or, should I say, Arthur.

Do you like my surprise?

I made it especially for you.

“Oh, God,” muttered Eggsy, his insides turning cold. “This was meant for Harry, not me.”

Let’s play a little game.

It’s called ‘Traffic King’.

“What the fuck.”

“Eggsy,” began Merlin, voice firm. “Hold on. I’m going to contact all available Kingsman agents to extract you.”

“What if it’s an inside job?” blurted Eggsy. He heard Merlin pause in his typing.

“Do you think it’s an inside job?” asked Merlin before continuing to type.

Eggsy paused before he gave his answer. “I’m honestly not sure, but my gut instincts tell me it’s possible. I mean, who else could acquire a Kingsman cab - may it be a replica or not - but someone from within the organization? Right?”

From his seat at HQ, Merlin bit his lower lip, considering the younger agent’s words.

“Merlin,” came Eggsy’s voice over the comm, and Merlin looked up at the screen to see Eggsy looking out the window. They just turned a left from Leicester Square. “What’s this fuckin’ prick’s game?”

“I don’t know, Eggsy,” was Merlin’s reply, feeling helpless for the first time. “And I really hate not knowing."

Eggsy gulped as the - well, whoever is driving it - started to drive faster. Making up his mind, a plan started to formulate in his head.

“I have a plan but I don’t know if you’ll like it,” he said.

“Any plan is better than no plan, Eggsy. What is it?” replied Merlin.

“You still contact all available Kingsman agents, and from there, maybe we - you - can do whatever magic you do with your tech, and start to pinpoint who can be behind all this.”

Merlin was silent for a few seconds before he hummed in agreement. “Vague plan, but I suppose it’s the best we got. I’ve hacked into the CCTV, and I can see your cab fast approaching Covent Garden.”

“I have a feeling we’re gon’ make a right to Bow St.,” surmised Eggsy, and boy was he right.

----------

In the comfort of his office in HQ, Merlin shook his head in frustration as he changed CCTV’s again. He didn’t turn off his connection with Eggsy as he created a separate transmission to all the other agents available within the vicinity.

“This is Merlin,” he began, voice tight as his fingers continue to type furiously. “We have a code orange: Galahad has been compromised in a black Kingsman-issued cab that is located in Bow St., nearing the Royal Opera House. He unknowingly rode the vehicle that was meant for Arthur with a mannequin dressed to look like a driver. The vehicle is also being controlled by an unknown source, and I am requesting immediate extraction from all personnel nearby.”

The response was instantaneous.

“This is Percival, copy that. ETA is ten minutes.”

“This is Gawain, I copy.”

“Ector, roger that.”

“This is Tristan, and I copy. ETA is fifteen minutes.”

“Bors here, and I copy. Will be meeting Ector halfway at Kean St."

“This is Lancelot, and I copy. Merlin, how is he?” added Roxy, voice tinged with concern.

“As good as he can be, Lancelot,” replied Merlin, glancing at the screen.

“This is Arthur, and I copy. Where is Eggsy now, Merlin?” came Harry’s voice over the comm.

Ah, fuck, Merlin said to himself.

“Harry-“

“Where. Is. Eggsy. Now?” reiterated Harry, voice like steel.

Merlin gulped involuntarily before replying, “He just gone past the intersection and is now in Wellington St.”

There was silence before Harry spoke in a too calm voice. “I will intercept the cab in five minutes."

Tick.

Where did that come from?

“Merlin.”

It was Eggsy, an unmistakable tremble in his voice now. Merlin looked at the screen and he felt his jaw drop at what he saw.

“Well, fuck.”

Chapter Text

4.

Eggsy gulped when he heard Harry’s voice through Merlin’s comm. They didn’t exactly separate in good terms that day, but to hear that Harry was coming to rescue him - and also six other Kingsman agents whom Eggsy knew he could trust with his life - it eased a little bit of his worry.

Not wanting to be idle, Eggsy moved half of his body in front to try to manoeuvre the steering wheel. He only went as far as to steer it to the left when he heard a soft click.

Tick.

He stilled, unsure of where the sound came from. It couldn’t be from where he was sitting at the back, so he cautiously checked the front seat. He looked over the mannequin and found none, and he was about to disregard it when he heard it again.

Tick. Tick.

It was coming from the glove compartment of the cab. Frowning, Eggsy moved his body further to open the compartment. When it easily gave way, he froze in shock.

Bloody fuckin’ fantastic. It was a bomb.

It was then he saw the several wires attached to the bomb that disappeared into the interior of the car. Realisation dawned on Eggsy when it all clicked into place.

The entire cab was the fuckin’ bomb.

“Merlin,” he said, the tremble in his voice apparent this time.

“Well, fuck,” he heard Merlin say over the comm.

And it was set to blow up in 7 minutes.

He heard the static coming from the video screen again and Eggsy quickly moved back to his seat to read the message the megalomaniac has supposedly typed out for Harry.

I hope you like my gift.

This is a bridge I am not afraid to burn, Arthur.

“Oh, God,” muttered Eggsy, looking up from the screen to see where the cab was heading now.

“Change of plans,” he heard Merlin shout over the comm. “There is a - the cab is a bomb and it’s set to explode in less than 7 minutes. I need you all to make it to Galahad right the fuck now and get him out of that bloody cab.”

“Shit.”

“Hold on, Eggsy!” came from Roxy, her voice frantic.

He understood now, where he was going. The nearest and only bridge was Waterloo Bridge, and when the bomb finally sets off, it’s going to destroy the bridge and kill hundreds of people. Including Eggsy.

He didn’t hesitate to take his phone out from his trouser pocket. He didn’t even think as he unlocked the screen and typed a quick message to his mum.

‘I’ll be late to dinner. I love you and Daisy. xx’

Feeling his throat tighten with emotion, he spoke to Merlin.

“It’s been a pleasure, Merlin.”

“Shut up, Eggsy. You’re not going to die.”

“Better safe than sorry, bruv.”

“I said shut the fuck up,” snapped Merlin, typing and clicking furiously. “I’ve alerted one of our contacts from MI5, and they are going to help us out now. This isn’t a simple rescue mission anymore, Eggsy.”

“I know, Merlin,” replied Eggsy, too calm for his own good. “I have hundreds of innocent lives in my hands, an’ I’ll be damned if I’m gon’ to let tha’ happen.”

“What-“

Just then, there was a static over the comm, Merlin’s voice drowned out by the grating noise. Eggsy removed the glasses, tapping the arms repeatedly and wearing it again.

“Hello? Hello? Merlin?” he called out persistently to no avail. The unknown megalomaniac must’ve blocked the signal somehow. Bugger. “Ah, fuck it. Might as well wing this shit.”

He didn’t bother turning off the intercom in case the signal returns. Instead, he moved the mannequin dressed like Liam aside, its arms detaching from the body as it remained glued to the steering wheel. Eggsy swore and then balanced the top half of his body as he moved his hips further in the front seat and swung his legs over the small space provided. Landing ungracefully in the driver’s seat, he removed the arms dangling from the steering wheel and then looked at the compartment to check how much time he had left.

5:30.

Damn. Considering the traffic and the traffic light ahead, Eggsy estimated that with the speed the cab is going, the bomb will set off the moment it reaches Waterloo Bridge.

He placed his hands on the steering wheel and placed a foot on the brake, but nothing happened. Letting out a growl of frustration, he stepped on the accelerator, but nothing happened again. Eggsy then started to punch the steering wheel in between grunts of agitation.

All of a sudden, a loud thump hit the driver’s side window, and Eggsy nearly jumped in his seat as he looked over at what caused it.

Well, it’s more like who caused it.

At such an unfitting time, and an even more inappropriate situation, Eggsy gulped involuntarily at Harry Hart in a motorcycle. More specifically, Harry Hart in his bespoke suit driving a sleek, red Ducati Monster 1200 S. He didn’t have a helmet on but he was wearing black leather gloves, and he was wearing his Kingsman glasses. Harry swerved past a car, staying close to Eggsy who shook himself from his stupor.

Shit. Right. No signal from the Kingsman glasses.

He decided to give his phone a shot, so he took it out from his trousers pocket and speed dialled Harry’s number. He looked out the window to see Harry overtake another motorcycle, and when the older agent drifted back towards Eggsy’s side, he gestured with his hands and phone for Harry to pick it up.

Harry quickly understood, and he took out his phone from his suit jacket pocket and answered the call.

“Eggsy,” Harry said calmly, but the younger agent could hear the tinge of anxiety in his voice. “How are you holding up?”

“Harry,” Eggsy replied, relieved and just a little bit breathless. “The arsehole behind this cut off the signal in my Kingsman glasses; and I can’t reach Merlin since he’s not yet keen to give out his personal number. The bomb’s set to blow up in…” He looked over at the glove compartment to glance at the remaining time left. “Shit - four minutes and forty-five seconds. I don’t think I’m gonna make it, Harry.” He finished in a resigned voice.

“Shut up,” growled Harry with conviction, and Eggsy could see his mentor grip his phone tighter. “I’m going to get you out of that fucking cab. Now hang on and let me talk to Merlin and the others.”

Eggsy felt a lump in his throat as he stared at Harry for what could possibly be the last time. He observed him, one hand clutching the phone to his ear and another on the handle bar as he barked orders at Merlin and the other Kingsmen over the comm, perfectly aware that Eggsy could hear every word he was saying.

“Merlin, Eggsy’s signal got blocked inside the cab,” he heard Harry say. “I want you to do your damn best to track down the fucker who’s behind this. To all Kingsmen assembled, what is your status?”

As an answer, an engine roared from behind the cab Eggsy’s in, and Harry looked back to see Percival in his silver Porsche 918 Spyder, the hood down and the agent’s hair mussed from the wind - much like Harry’s.

Without warning, another Kingsman cab veered next to the left of Eggsy, and it was Lancelot this time who arrived, rolling down the window of the driver’s side and giving Eggsy a reassuring smile.

“The others are near,” announced Harry to Eggsy through the phone. “Just hold on, Eggsy. We’re going to get you out of there.”

Eggsy didn’t reply, instead he opted for a smile that - to him - must’ve looked pained to Harry. And out of the blue, he heard two gunshots ring out from behind. Harry almost lost grip of the handle bar but he managed to hold on. Eggsy found himself ducking in his seat before cautiously looking up to see Percival, his gun aimed at the rear window.

For the first time, Eggsy felt hope as he saw the damage Percival made on the window. It wasn't completely shattered, but it was proven then that it wasn’t entirely bullet proof. Thank God for small miracles.

“Percival,” started Harry, and Eggsy could see Percival speak to Harry through the intercom. He glanced back at Harry to see understanding dawn on the older agent’s face, and he nodded his head once and then said, “Great thinking, there. Now completely shatter that window so we can get Eggsy out. Lancelot, stay close to Eggsy.”

Percival shot four more times before the window shattered completely, and Eggsy ducked out from his seat again to focus his attention on Harry.

The ticking went faster and Eggsy peered at the bomb to see that the countdown changed from 4:25 to 2:25.

Bloody fucking hell, who's behind this shit?

“Harry,” Eggsy called out in panic, his grip on his phone tightening. Harry whipped his head to him, missing the look of confusion that passed over Percival’s face and Lancelot’s calculating one.

“What is it, Eggsy?” Harry asked as they ran a red light at the last intersection. Several cars, buses, and even trucks swerved to avoid collision and honked their horns in their wake.

All of a sudden, he saw another motorcycle and Kingsman cab approach from two opposite streets, and in that moment, Eggsy felt a rush of affection and gratitude when he saw Ector driving a black motorcycle with Bors riding behind him, hands full of two Rainmakers. Tristan was driving the other Kingsman cab with Gawain at the passenger seat. Their windows were rolled down as Tristan manoeuvred the cab so he was now behind Roxy’s; Ector weaving past the stray cars to drive by Harry’s side.

It was quite a sight to see - eight Kingsman agents in formation as if the seven surrounding Eggsy's cab were his convoy. The young Galahad had no doubt in mind that Merlin was recording this from HQ.

“Harry, don't let anyone shoot any of the windows anymore. It's triggered with some sort o' sensor 'cos the bomb lost two minutes in the countdown,” he said in a rush, turning his body to face the driver’s side window so he could see Harry’s face. “An' the brake and accelerator are busted. This cab is going at 120km/h, and the bomb is gon’ set off in a minute an' a half. If I get out righ’ now, this bomb will kill hundreds of people at Waterloo Bridge.”

They were already at the A301 road and coming nearer towards Somerset House. Vehicles on both sides of the road were honking and drivers were yelling at them, but the Kingsman agents paid them no mind.

“Eggsy,” Harry breathes out, eyes growing wide in shock at what he was hearing. “If you don’t get out of that cab right now, you’ll be one of those people who’ll die, too.”

Eggsy couldn’t believe what he was hearing - hell, he couldn’t even believe Harry was capable of saying such a thing! If he looked around him, he would’ve seen the looks of shock that passed over the other Kingsman agents, and the youngest agent was none the wiser that they could hear him through Harry.

“Are you takin’ the fuckin’ piss right’ now?” he exclaimed, mouth hung open in astonishment. He couldn't even bring himself to get angry.

“Eggsy-“ started Harry but the former cut him off.

“Like wha' Merlin said, this ain’t jus’ a simple rescue mission 'nymore,” Eggsy continues forcibly. “Hundreds o' people’s lives are at stake, an’ I’m gon’ do my fuckin’ job as a Kingsman agent.”

“Eggsy, don’t be a fucking martyr!” Roxy shouted, and Eggsy whipped his head to look at his best mate, an agonized expression etched on her face.

He bit his lower lip and mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to her, to which Lancelot answered with an angry growl - veering her cab closer to Eggsy’s.

“Don’t do this, Eggsy,” he heard Harry say over the phone, voice choked with emotion that broke Eggsy’s heart. “Please.”

Before Eggsy could think of a response, he heard Tristan shout.

“Arthur, we’re almost at Waterloo Bridge! What is your order?”

“Eggsy, jump into my car right now!” came Percival’s voice, and the former glanced at the older agent, his normally neutral expression taking on a pained look.

“Eggsy, please,” pleaded Harry, his knuckles white from gripping his phone tightly.

“If it were you in my place, would you have gotten off the cab?” countered Eggsy solemnly. “As a Kingsman, it's my responsibility to protect those who can’ protect themselves, an’ I will not turn my back on my responsibilities.”

"There's another way -"

"Bu' there isn't!" cut off Eggsy fervently. "This was meant for you, Harry. Some anonymous fucker wanted you dead, an'-"

“I can’t lose you like this, Eggsy,” Harry uttered roughly, a broken expression on his face. If that ain’ the most heartbreaking thing Eggsy’d ever heard and seen, then he don’t know what is. “Please don’t make me lose you like this.”

Eggsy’s throat tightened, and he couldn’t speak for a few seconds because in that exact moment, he suddenly had an epiphany. A glorious, burning epiphany that made sense of his actions these past several months.

He was in love with Harry Hart.

He was in love and he was going to die, and it’s such a tragic story that he won’t live to tell the tale on how he fell in love and how that fact registered to him at such an inopportune time. And he was at a crossroads on whether he’s going to confess to Harry right this moment, or take that confession to the grave.

Eggsy glanced at the compartment, and saw he only had thirty seconds to make a decision. Their convoy just entered Waterloo Bridge, and he could see hundreds of cars ahead of them, and seeing that had Eggsy making up his mind instantly.

Looking back at Harry who drifted closer towards the Kingsman-replica cab, the older agent never took his gaze off him, not giving a fuck about the road ahead.

“If there’s one thing in this whole damned world that I can' stand,” vocalized Eggsy gruffly. “It’s to witness some wanker try an’ hurt you.”

Harry shook his head, an anguished look etched on his face. He opened his mouth but closed it again, and Eggsy took over.

“Tell my mum an’ Daisy I love them, yeah?” he continued shakily, and he hated the single tear that rolled down his cheek right then. “Go easy on ‘em when you tell mum wha’ ‘appened, though. An’ please look after ‘em for me, especially little Daisy - you’re the only one I can trust to do this aside from Roxy an' Merlin.”

Harry nodded, unable to speak, as his eyes never left Eggsy’s.

0:22.

“Tell Merlin tha' this ain’t his fault, no matter wha’ crazy thing he says or comes up with to put the blame on ‘imself,” he continued.. “Make sure Roxy doesn’t beat ‘erself too much over this. S'not worth it. An' tell everyone else… tell ‘em that despite the short amount o’ time I spent with ‘em, whether on missions or not, tha' they’ve all grown on me - an’ I’ll take my gratitude for ‘em to the grave.”

“Eggsy, you selfless bitch!” yelled Roxy, and he heard a thump as Roxy punched the window of the passenger’s side.

Eggsy didn’t look at her, not wanting to break eye contact with Harry who was breathing deeply now from the way his chest rose and fell.

0:15.

“Harry,” Eggsy called his name reverently, one hand on the steering wheel this time.

“You’re the most important person in my life,” Harry choked out. “Eggsy, you’re everything to me, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to tell you.”

He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, but Eggsy held back a sob and smiled instead, more tears cascading down his face.

It was now or never.

“I’m glad to know,” he said, voice trembling with emotion. “Thank you for everythin’ - for givin' me this second chance. You’re the first an' only person I've ever loved this much, Harry, an' if by my life or death I can protect you, you know I will.”

And with a teary smile, Eggsy threw his phone aside. He heard Harry yell but he was grasping the steering wheel with both hands as he viciously steered it to the right. From his peripheral vision, he saw Harry and Ector swerve to the side and hit the brakes to avoid collision. With one last thought of Harry, Eggsy closed his eyes.

The cab ran over the fences of the bridge and into the Thames River. An explosion ensued a few seconds after the vehicle crashed into the river, the aftershock reverberating and shocking everyone at its magnitude. The seven Kingsman agents parked haphazardly, looks of shock and despair painted across their windswept faces.

Harry was frozen in shock, not bothering to dismount from his motorcycle. The new Arthur caught sight of Tristan, Bors, Ector, and Gawain standing beside each other staring down at the river - jaws clenched and expressions stoic. From behind, he could hear Roxy openly sobbing, and he turned his head to witness Percival approach the distressed Lancelot and take her in his arms. Roxy didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around her mentor’s waist, burying her face on the crook of his neck and muffling her cries as Percival rubbed her back soothingly. There was a haunted look in his eyes, and Harry wondered how he must look right now.

“Harry,” came Merlin’s voice over the comm. He sounded heavy, defeated. “I know who’s behind this.”

It took several seconds for the information to sink in, and when it did, Harry’s grip on his phone tightened considerably. He heard Roxy stop crying, their entire postures stiff as they waited for their leader’s response.

Harry pocketed his phone and started the engine of his Ducati. Face set in determination; he pushed back the grief that’s attempting to take over, carefully picking up the pieces of his broken heart as he settled for a cold, hard look that infused his lethal reputation as a Kingsman agent.

“Good,” he said simply, voice like steel. He could feel several eyes on him as he addressed everyone. “Report back to HQ. We have an arsehole to hunt down.”

Chapter Text

5.

Less than two hours later, everyone regrouped at HQ in the meeting room, where Merlin stood behind Harry’s seat at the round table. The quartermaster looked a right mess. Collared shirt and sweater slightly mussed, he gripped his iPad tightly against his chest with one arm while his other hand was curled into a tight fist by his side. Harry observed his dearest friend, the dark eyes behind the latter’s thick-framed glasses hard and filled with suppressed emotion.

When everyone was finally seated, Harry gestured Merlin to begin.

Merlin nodded his head once in acknowledgement before clicking several buttons on his iPad. A series of holograms appeared at the centre of the round table, viewing the different points of view of the events that transpired hours before.

“Tracking down the group behind this was not hard,” the bald man began in a clipped tone, and Harry noted how his voice wavered slightly. “But tracking down the Kingsman agent who masterminded this was harder.”

Lancelot found herself sitting up straighter, eyes fierce with purpose, and the fury underneath her stoic expression apparent to all. Harry found himself respecting and admiring the lady Kingsman agent more.

“Who is it?” asked Harry simply, both elbows resting on top of the table and fingers interlaced together.

Merlin’s mouth opened, then he paused, surveying the agents assembled with a critical eye before blurting out: “Bedivere.”

A collective gasp rang out, and Harry inhaled deeply, feeling his stomach churn at the unexpected name.

Bedivere, real name Julian, was one of the senior Kingsman agents and was incidentally in the running for the position of Arthur until Harry returned. And mostly everyone at Kingsman then agreed to have the best agent in the organization take the mantle instead. Suffice to say, Bedivere took it badly, but that was an understatement now after what he tried to do earlier that evening.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Bors muttered under his breath. He was seated to Harry’s right; posture slumped in an ungentlemanly way.

“What a bloody lunatic,” added Tristan, running a hand across his face and sighing heavily.

To his left, Percival’s hands were closed into tight fists, jaw clenched painfully as he gazed coldly at the image of Bedivere Merlin uploaded to the screen for everyone to see.

Harry then shared a meaningful glance with Merlin, who pursed his lips.

“You mentioned a group that was behind the attack,” continued Harry calmly. “Who are they?”

“They are a group of arms dealer in Germany, but they relocated here in London a couple of years ago after they escaped from an infiltration by the local police,” replied Merlin, clicking again in his iPad and the view changed to several pictures of the arms dealer. “They are currently residing at the basement of a nightclub in North London, also owned by Yuri Beringer - the leader of the group.”

“How does Bedivere fit in the picture?” inquired Lancelot, brows furrowed in bewilderment, one hand resting on top of Percival’s left hand in comfort.

Merlin cleared his throat before responding. “I cannot answer that for you, Lancelot, but what I can do tell is that I investigated all of your activities outside of Kingsman, and it was Bedivere’s that made him stand out from the rest. For the past four months, the pattern he left is sporadic yet too meticulous - he didn’t want to leave a trace and he did a bloody good job at that.”

“But not bloody good enough,” quipped Gawain with a smirk, and Merlin nodded.

“One little slip was all I needed, and slipped that bastard did,” bit out Merlin, and Harry fought back a smile at his Scottish friend. Now was not the time, honestly.

“What was his slip up?” asked Ector curiously.

“He forgot to turn off the transmission from his Kingsman glasses before I caught a glimpse of the strip club he was entering and heard him say over the phone, ‘I have the information on Harry Hart’.”

Silence greeted the room, each agent’s eyes trained on their leader. Harry, appearing calm and collected on the outside, was inwardly seething. Fury like no other boiled in his veins, and he longed to rip Bedivere to shreds - but he held on to the last string of patience in him, not wanting to show an ounce of weakness in front of the others. They needed Arthur, not Harry. And he needed to be Arthur - ruthless, lethal, and logical - not Harry - sensitive, stubborn, and emotional. He can be like that in the comfort of his own home, but not in front of colleagues who look up to him for direction.

“What’s the name of the strip club and where is it located? Tell us everything, Merlin,” ordered Harry.

And Merlin did. He spent nearly an hour discussing his findings - the footages and images he had hacked from the CCTV’s and from Bedivere’s Kingsman-issued residence (a secret Merlin had to unfortunately divulge, much to the horror of Lancelot who turned red after finding out their flats were bugged with cameras).

From the information the tech wizard had gathered, Bedivere came in contact with Beringer eight months prior after a drunken one-night stand, thanks to a CCTV that showed the two drunk men going at it like rabbits in a dark alley. Two weeks after that incident, they met at the same pub they first met, and Merlin surmised that that must’ve been the focal point where the senior agent decided to ask for help from an international arms dealer regarding the assassination of a secret spy organization’s leader.

It was quite a cliché move, the kind of move that deserved to be in the movies. That thought made Harry want to snort, but just thinking of the outcome of Bedivere’s plan quickly sobers him up. He feels his heart tighten painfully, and for a moment Harry found himself unable to breathe. It was only when Merlin laid a hand on his shoulder that he managed to release a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, the warmth of his friend’s hand almost immediately thawing his insides.

The new Arthur blinked and then looked up to the other occupants of the room, briefly looking at Merlin and giving him a reassuring nod.

“What of his family, Arthur?” inquired Ector without warning, a slight furrow in his brows.

Harry gulped involuntarily. Fuck, he almost forgot about Michelle and Daisy. It was going to be even more painful to tell Michelle that her son - the only thing she had left of Lee - had died almost the same way his father did.

Goddamn it.

“I will personally inform Ms. Unwin of the… recent developments after this assignment,” he replied in a tight voice.

“And what is our plan of action regarding that, Arthur?” asked Merlin, giving his distressed friend’s shoulder a light squeeze before letting go.

Harry didn’t hesitate to respond again with, “We take down Beringer, track down Bedivere, and then execute them.”

Unsurprisingly, nobody was surprised with his answer. They didn’t bat an eye as the other agents nodded in agreement, Bors cracking his knuckles - a manic glint in his eye.

“Slight problem,” interrupted Merlin. “Bedivere has gone MIA, but from what I’ve checked earlier, Beringer is still residing at the basement of the strip club.”

"I suggest we pay Beringer and his goons a visit, and then we can… extract information from him regarding Bedivere’s whereabouts,” spoke Percival hoarsely, a vicious smile playing across his lips.

“And by extract, you mean torture him,” Lancelot deadpanned. At Percival’s casual shrug, Roxy grinned. “Count me in.”

Shaking his head in half amusement half exasperation, Tristan uttered, “Eggsy probably wouldn’t want you avenging his death that way.”

Harry stiffened, and the atmosphere in the room became on edge. Roxy’s grin quickly fell from her lips, and Harry heard Merlin take a sharp intake of breath. He found himself gripping his fingers tightly, and he mentally counted to twenty in Mandarin before he spoke.

“I beg to differ,” he said, voice like steel, and Tristan found himself gulping unconsciously. “This is about a Kingsman agent betraying us and the organization’s trust. This is about a Kingsman agent actually almost succeeding in assassinating its leader with the help of an international arms dealer. And because of that, tonight, we lost one of our youngest and finest agents. If it were any of us who died in his place, without a doubt Eggsy would want to avenge our deaths in the most unorthodox way possible.”

“And because it’s such an Eggsy thing to do,” added Roxy, a tight smile on her face, and Harry agreed with a nod. Solemnly, she added, “Galahad saved hundreds of lives tonight, including ours, in exchange for his own. Yes, we are to take this personally, because Bedivere took it personally; and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Eggsy die in vain by not taking action.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” remarked Harry after a few seconds of silence after Roxy’s declaration. Turning to look at Merlin, he addressed the quartermaster. “I’m afraid I’ll have to give the Prague mission to someone else. Can you-“

“Screw the Prague mission,” interrupted Merlin vehemently, throwing formality out the window. Harry blinked in surprise at the sudden outburst, though. “I’ll contact MI6 and ask if they can take this mission from us. That is,” he added, sounding uncertain, “if you give me permission to do so, Arthur.”

“Permission granted,” came Harry’s immediate reply. Then addressing the rest of the agents, he spoke. “And it’s safe to assume that everyone present tonight is on board with the new mission?”

The rest of the agents nodded in unison, faces set in determination.

“I don’t say it often, but Galahad was a great man,” voiced out Bors, a look of sadness encompassing his face.

“He is,” agreed Harry through the huge lump in his throat.

Nobody even bothered to correct his improper use of tense.

----------

It was half past midnight when Harry arrived at his flat. He didn’t bother to park his Ducati properly at the front; he was too exhausted - physically, mentally, and emotionally - to care anymore.

He went upstairs to his bedroom where he meticulously stripped off of his suit in exchange for grey track pants and an old Oxford shirt. He removed his Kingsman glasses and placed it on top of his bedside table. Barefoot, he walked out of his room to his study, where he switched on the lights and decided to pour himself three fingers of scotch from his decanter and downing it in one gulp. Refilling his rocks glass, he took a small sip this time before walking towards the window of his study and overlooking the quiet street ahead.

He stood there for a long while, looking out the window aimlessly and quietly sipping his drink until the glass was empty and his brain was begging for more. Ignoring the voice in his head, Harry tore his gaze away from the midnight blue sky that painted a gorgeous picture of the full moon and stars.

He moved from the window and put down the glass on his table before sitting ungracefully on the chair behind his desk. Sitting back with shoulders slumped, Harry rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, his legs stretched out as he looked at the wall before him - half of it covered from floor to ceiling with headlines from The Sun, the latest being “Popping That Cherry”. Harry could perfectly recall in detail Eggsy doubling over in laughter the following day after his failed honeypot mission.

It was after Eggsy forgave him after Harry apologized about a hundred times (they were all sincere, mind you) in this exact room, where Harry was seated in this damn chair and Eggsy was standing beside him, leaning casually on the edge of the table with arms crossed across his chest. He can still remember what the young Galahad wore, low slung jeans and a grey Fred Perry collared shirt, complete with a varsity jacket and those blasted trainers with wings that Harry didn’t bother to know what it was actually called.

A chuckle escaped past his lips when it dawned on him that that took place two weeks ago. Two weeks, and it felt like a distant memory. He took in a deep, shuddering breath then let it out slowly, and with that, the dam broke.

Silent tears fell from his eyes and cascaded down the previous Galahad’s face. He felt his heart, beating regularly and still pumping blood into his system, clench painfully - and Harry let out a whimper as he closed his eyes in anguish, the image of Eggsy laughing and smiling at him in this study two weeks ago burned into his retina forever.

He folded unto himself as he brought his trembling hands to his face, letting out wrecked sobs that shook his entire being.

“Thank you for everythin’ - for giving’ me this second chance.”

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. He wasn’t supposed to die this early, this soon. Eggsy was young and benevolent, although cocky and complacent; yet he possessed the talents and skills a Kingsman agent should possess. But it was his heart that made him a true Kingsman agent. His love for his family, no matter how dysfunctional it was; and his loyalty to the country and its people, loyalty to Kingsman - and to Harry.

He brought out the best in Harry, and made the older agent better in every sense of the word. A better man, a better agent, a better leader.

And Eggsy was supposed to be there every step of the way. He wasn’t supposed to leave Harry. Not in this way, not in this time.

“You’re the first an’ only person I’ve ever loved this much, Harry, an’ if by my life or death I can protect you, you know I will.”

“Eggsy,” whimpered Harry brokenly, his heart aching at how sudden, how unexpected - and how downright fucking excruciating it was - to lose someone you almost had.

And that hurt, didn’t it? With their ill-timed confessions, Harry almost had Eggsy.

Almost.

Balling his hands into fists, Harry pressed them hard against his closed eyes. The look Eggsy gave him - blue-green eyes shining with unshed tears and a deep affection to Harry clear as the sun shone in a cloudless day - was the most painful and beautiful thing Harry had ever witnessed.

And it was the last look the beautiful young man gave him.

Will ever give him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered between sobbing uncontrollably and taking in a lungful of air. “I’m sorry I tried pushing you away. I’m sorry I wasted these months when we could’ve already had each other, when we could’ve made each other happy. I’m sorry for being b-broken, for not being the same person you knew before. F-fuck, Eggsy, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t do this without you. I need you here with me, goddamn it. You keep me right. You… you’re everything to me, and I’m just so sorry.”

He moved towards his desk where he folded his arms and lay his head down on top of it, tears continuing to trail down his cheeks. He continued to weep brokenly for his lost love until his breathing eventually evened out, and he fell into a fitful sleep.

——

It was at five thirty in the morning when Harry was woken up to the sound of his mobile phone ringing. Groggily sitting up from his uncomfortable position, he carefully stretched out the kinks from his neck and back before realizing that the noise was coming from his right pocket.

Grumbling unintelligible words under his breath, Harry took out his phone to answer the call. It was Merlin.

“What is it?” Harry asked, voice raspy from sleep and his breakdown a few hours ago.

“Harry, MI5 just contacted me,” came Merlin’s voice. He sounded a little breathless, a little astonished – bordering on excited, really. “They’ve finished cleaning up the debris from the Thames River, and…”

“And what?” prompted Harry after his friend’s voice trailed off. He couldn’t understand what was so exciting about the debris. Eggsy was -

“They didn’t find a body in the river,” continued Merlin, and Harry felt his heart stop beating in that moment. “I asked them to triple check it, and my contact reassured me they did, and-“

Wait.

What?

“What does that mean?” Harry dumbly said, not daring himself to believe - to be optimistic about it. He felt numb all over, and the ringing in his ears got louder until Merlin uttered the next five words that gave Harry the most dangerous pill known to mankind:

Hope.

“Harry, Eggsy is still alive.”

It looks like Valentine was wrong about one damn thing: It’s that kind of movie, after all.

Chapter Text

The next thing Eggsy does, after committing Harry’s image to memory, was to open his eyes and suddenly think:

Fuck, there’s a broken window.

Ah, Percival, you’re the guv’nor.

Before the hood of the cab could hit the river, Eggsy immediately let go of the steering wheel and scrambled towards the back seat. Taking a long, deep breath, he was thankful for his gymnastic skills as he made quick work of escaping through the broken rear window, the cab becoming fully submerged in water.

The young Galahad swam as fast and as far as he could from the sinking and ticking vehicle. This all happened in less than ten seconds before the bomb set off, its impact underwater quite compact. But the force of it knocked the breath out of Eggsy, making him inhale water as he struggled to swim towards the surface. Chest burning in protest for oxygen, he was a few feet away from it when his lungs eventually gave out, his vision darkening around the edges.

And the last thing Eggsy thought of before losing all consciousness was:

I’m so sorry, Harry.

——

Roxy was dreaming of beating the living daylights out of Bedivere while Eggsy - decked in white and carrying a fucking mini-harp of all fucking things - watched on in amusement when she was woken up by the annoying ringtone of her personal mobile.

Swearing in French, she turned over to burrow herself in the warmth of her companion, who grumbled unintelligible words under his breath as he wrapped an arm around Roxy’s waist, pulling her closer to his warm, bare chest.

The ringing stopped abruptly and Roxy was about to fall asleep when her mobile rang out again.

“Jus’ answer the damn thing,” grumbled the man against Roxy’s bed-ridden head.

Cursing in Spanish this time, Roxy untangled herself from the warmth and safety of her lover’s arms - who whined in protest - to answer the damn call, not bothering to look at the caller ID to know who it was.

“This better be important or so help me I will beat the fuck out of you,” she snapped in greeting, voice raspy from sleep.

She heard her lover snort, so she kicked his shin in annoyance. He groaned, and Roxy smirked in triumph.

“Good morning, Lancelot,” came Merlin’s voice from the receiving end, and Roxy’s eyes widened as she immediately straightened.

“Shit!” she gasped in surprise. “Oh, er, I mean shoot. Good morning, Merlin. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, as of now,” replied the man dryly, though Roxy could detect a hint of amusement from his tone. He’s in a bit of a good mood, then. That’s odd. “But I want you to report to HQ at 0800 today for a group meeting.”

“Noted,” Roxy said, sitting properly on the bed now. “Are we going to infiltrate the nightclub tonight?”

“Most likely,” the quartermaster replied. Then he added coyly, “Kindly relay the message to Percival as well, thank you.”

Roxy turned scarlet, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. Oh, if she had only known their Kingsman-issued flats were bugged, she wouldn’t have agreed to most of what, er, transpired all over the household.

“Will do,” she bit out in a clipped tone, and - wait, is that Merlin sniggering? Oh, that little shit. “Is that all, Merlin?”

“For now, yes,” was all she got before the line disconnected.

She looked at her phone, eyes narrowed in suspicion. There was something the tech wizard wasn’t telling her, and she was going to interrogate him for answers before the meeting starts later today.

However, glancing at her phone again, Roxy noted that it was only ten minutes before six. Sighing, she decided that she could sleep for another forty minutes, considering that the tailor shop is only several blocks away from their flat.

Tossing her phone carelessly on the bedside table, the young Lancelot lied down on the bed once more, turning on her side to wrap an arm around Percival’s torso. The older man lifted his left arm on instinct to wrap it around Roxy’s shoulder, who immediately rested her head on the crook of his neck. She breathed in his scent deeply, leaving a sweet kiss on the pulse point of his throat.

Humming contentedly, Percival kissed her forehead then asked softly, “Wot di' Merlin say?”

“We mus' report to HQ at 8 today,” replied Roxy, voice muffled. “We have 'nother meeting.”

“M’kay,” replied Percival sleepily. “Wot time s’it?”

“Before six. Still got ‘nother half hour.”

“M’kay, good. ‘Night, love.”

“‘Night, Andrew.”

Oh, who the fuck cares if Merlin saw videos of them having wild, kinky sex all over her flat? And Andrew’s, too. She wouldn’t trade this for the world.

——

Eggsy woke up several hours later, and the first thing he takes note of is that he was soaking wet. The second was that he was tied to a chair - wrists and ankles bound tightly on each leg and arm of the chair. The third thing he takes note of is that the room had no windows and it smelled of gunpowder and piss.

The last thing he notices is it was hard to breathe. Broken ribs then, he realises. And also bruises and cuts, he added upon inspecting his wet suit covered in blood. No doubt his face was much worse, considering that he could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth and feel it trickling down the side of his head.

Eggsy groaned out loud when he tried to struggle against his bonds, the pain in his ribs making him see stars.

“Fuck, shit, ugh,” he moaned, shutting his eyes tight against the burning pain.

“It’s a miracle you survived,” spoke somebody in a horrible German accent to his right.

Body tensing, the young agent cursed himself inwardly for not being so observant, not wanting to blame his carelessness at the pain he’s in. A Kingsman agent must always be alert and on guard, after all.

“Who’re you?” he asked gruffly, eyeing the figure leaning on the wall suspiciously.

Chuckling, the figure pushed himself off the wall and walked into Eggsy’s line of sight. He was of average height - slightly taller than Eggsy himself - but he made up for it in muscle, the tendons in his arms and neck apparent on the dim light the room provided. The man was also bald and had a tattoo of an anchor on the side of his neck. Eggsy would have considered him attractive if it weren’t for the ugly sneer that adorned the bloke’s face.

“I’m Yuri Beringer,” the man introduced himself in that still horrible German accent. “And you, lad, are not Harry Hart.”

Stiffening at the mention of Harry’s name, a snarl graced Eggsy’s battered features as he growled out: “Better me than ‘im, mate. An’ would you drop the fuckin’ accent?”

Taken aback, Beringer looked at him confusedly then said, “What accent?”

“That accent,” Eggsy pointed out. “The fake German one.”

Furrowing his brows, the burly man said, “This is not a fake accent. And I am German.”

“You're actually German?” Eggsy asked, doubt in his voice. “You takin’ the fuckin’ piss, right? Colour me surprised, but I find that hard to believe.”

Beringer didn’t reply, instead he glared almost murderously at the bound agent who almost took back his words, because now Vin Diesel look-alike does look like a German bloke after all.

“What is your name?” demanded Beringer, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood in front of Eggsy, looking at him intimidatingly.

Not easily intimidated, however, Eggsy decided to stall. Or just mess with him.

“What’s it to you?” he asked daringly, jutting his chin out in defiance.

Scowling, Beringer calmly replied with, “Because it was supposed to be Harry Hart to ride in that cab. But it appears that through a trusted source, I was informed that it was Mr. Hart’s protegé who rode in it instead.”

Feeling something heavy weigh in his stomach, Eggsy was sad to find that - yes, there was a mole in Kingsman, and he or she or they wanted their boss dead.

It was a good thing they failed because Eggsy knows without a doubt that Merlin is already working on finding out who’s behind this. It’s only a matter of time before they infiltrate where he is right now to take Beringer down.

And hopefully, the traitor is somewhere in here as well.

“Well, it looks like you was already informed on who I am,” answered Eggsy derisively. “You’re really takin’ the fuckin’ piss right now.”

Oh, he saw it coming alright, but the painful blow to the side of his face still surprised him, completely knocking the breath out of him. Well, the impact of it did, considering that Vin Diesel 2.0’s arms were like the size of his thighs.

Jesus fuck, that hurt.

Spitting out blood on the grimy floor, Eggsy gave Beringer a shit-eating grin before uttering, “Not bad, baldy.”

“Du kleiner scheißer,” cursed Beringer, completely vexed.

He was about to take another blow to Eggsy’s face when the door opened and a familiar voice rung out in a commanding tone, “Enough, Yuri.”

Almost instantly, the latter straightened his posture and moved to the side, allowing Eggsy to see the second figure enter the dimly lit room. He couldn’t hide the gasp that escaped past his lips as he identified the lean form of Bedivere - decked in his bespoke suit sans Kingsman glasses but Rainmaker in hand.

“Leave us,” ordered Bedivere to Beringer, his sharp gaze never leaving Eggsy’s.

Beringer nodded once before casting Eggsy one last malicious look before leaving the room, door closing with a sharp snap behind his imposing figure.

Silence greeted the remaining occupants, and for a long while Eggsy wanted nothing more than to bash Bedivere’s head against the cemented wall. Repeatedly.

He didn’t realize he was was shaking in fury by the time he finished that thought.

“You,” he breathed out in anger, glaring daggers at the smug-looking bastard. “You’re goin’ to pay for this, you fuckin’ twat. I'm gonna fuckin’ kill you, jus’ you wait."

“Hm, touching,” replied Bedivere with an air of nonchalance. He started walking around Eggsy, his steps slow and measured. “Although, you, Mr. Unwin, are in for a long ride.”

Before Eggsy can utter another word, Bedivere used the handle of his Rainmaker to hit Eggsy’s temple. Not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to disorient the young agent.

Eggsy groaned involuntarily, eyes clenched shut at the pain exploding from his already bleeding head. When he managed to open his eyes, it was to see Bedivere take out his Kingsman glasses from his inner suit jacket pocket.

“We’re going to have so much fun, dear Galahad,” he commented as he wore the Kingsman glasses, turning the transmission on.

Eggsy gulped.

He’s so fifty shades of fucked.

---------

The meeting in HQ lasted most of the morning. Arriving in the wee hours of the morning, Kay and Gareth decided to join them after Merlin filled them in on what the situation was about. Both agents sobered at the events that transpired the previous night, the betrayal of Bedivere cutting them deep.

When Merlin announced to the rest of the agents that Eggsy was still alive - although missing - Roxy gasped in shock, whereas Percival looked at the technician, mouth agape. The rest, bar Harry who had a small smile playing on his lips, let out expletives at what they heard.

“If this were a movie, I’d say ‘plot twist’,” said Gawain with a guffaw, eyes bright.

“And I would say it is, indeed, that kind of movie, Gawain,” commented Harry, amused. Funny that he was thinking the same thing a few hours ago.

And if Roxy shouted at Merlin (“If you had hair, I would shave them off of you for that shit you did!”), well it just added to the brief joy they all felt in that moment.

---------

It was nearing late afternoon when Harry decided to visit Merlin at the comm centre. He was holed up in his office the entire day, pouring over the information gathered on Julian and Beringer, and finishing the small stack of paperwork that was given to him by Merlin.

He just entered the room when he heard more than saw a red button blinking and beeping loudly that’s coming from the monitor.

“What is it?” asked Harry without preamble, Arthur-mode on.

Merlin didn’t acknowledge his presence or his inquiry, opting to toss his iPad to the side as he sat down on the chair to type furiously on the keyboard.

“Merlin, what’s going on?” demanded Harry, worry building low in his stomach. “Is it a distress signal?”

Could it be Eggsy? But he didn’t dare to voice it out, afraid of what he might hear.

Merlin didn’t talk for half a minute as he continued to type, a crease forming between his brows. All Harry could see from the monitor was a map and a blurred video that was paused and minimized as Merlin dragged it to the bottom left corner of the screen. The silence was starting to set Harry’s nerves on edge when finally; Merlin removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, a loud sigh escaping from his lips.

“It wasn’t a distress signal,” Merlin started after putting on his glasses once more. Harry was about to open his mouth when the tech wizard beat him to it. “It was a recorded video sent to us. By Julian.”

Harry’s jaw clenched in barely concealed anger at the mention of Bedivere's real name. He opened his mouth to make an ungentlemanly response when suddenly, the door of Merlin’s door burst open and Roxy walked in with an annoyed expression on her face, Percival trailing behind her with an amused one.

“Merlin, I swear to God, if you make me clean -“ the fiery Lancelot began but she immediately cut herself off once she saw the serious expression on Merlin’s face and the angry one on Harry’s. “What’s going on?” she asked instead.

“We received a recorded video sent by Julian,” replied Merlin.

Percival’s expression turned cold, eyes narrowed and fists clenched in anger.

“What did that bastard say?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Roxy turned to look at her lover, a melancholic look in her eyes before she covered it up with a neutral expression. She walked towards Percival to wrap a hand around his clenched one, lacing their fingers once the older agent loosened his grip.

If it were a different situation, Harry would have made a teasing remark at the display, but all he could manage was a raised brow and a nod of acknowledgement to Roxy, who turned pink at her bold move.

“We don’t know yet, but I was about to play it when you came barging in,” replied Merlin dryly. Roxy turned a darker shade of pink and was about to apologize when Merlin waved it off. “You can watch it with us if you wish to stay.”

The two agents shared a look before they turned to look back at Merlin, Percival nodding once in agreement.

Harry stood on the right side of Merlin, Roxy and Percival standing on the latter’s left as Merlin pressed play on the video, dread and anticipation in the pits of their stomachs.

But what Bedivere sent them didn’t prepare them for the horror of what they saw.

The room was dark save for the light in the middle, where one Eggsy Unwin sat on a chair, drenched and bloody and tied to his seat. His suit was ruined, suit jacket missing and tie askew. His oxfords were missing as well as his Kingsman glasses and watch - but that didn’t stop Harry from the relief he felt, his eyes pricking with unshed tears. He didn’t need to look to his side to see the others doing the same, Roxy sniffling quietly.

“I have to say,” began Julian, sounding smug. “Harry chose his pet well. Like mentor like protege, you don’t know when to keep your mouth shut.”

“You shut the fuck up ‘bout Harry, you fuckin’ traitor!” snarled Eggsy, glaring hatefully at the screen.

Julian tutted, and the screen started moving as Julian walked slowly towards Eggsy.

“Such a foul mouth,” the bastard muttered. When he was standing in front of Eggsy, he lifted a hand to stroke the side of his face before slapping him hard. “It’s very tempting to put that mouth of yours to good use, too.”

Harry let out a growl, unable to stop himself if he wanted to. Oh, the things he want to do to Julian is a continuously growing pile, and taking out his fingernails was just added to the list.

“But sadly, you’re not my type,” continued Julian flippantly. “Although, I could think of a dozen ways to make you scream and gag.”

He started walking around Eggsy, slowly trailing the handle of his Rainmaker along Eggsy’s slightly hunched form - from his shoulders to his arms - before landing a blow to the young agent’s stomach who grunted in pain.

“Come on, you can do better than that.”

“You’re mental."

A hit to the sternum. A louder yet restrained grunt.

“If you scream, Mr. Unwin, I promise to tell you the reason why I want Harry Hart dead.”

“You're just jealous of him, s'why.”

Another hit to the sternum, this time harder than the last. A muted cry of pain.

“I can't discern whether you’re taking the piss or you don’t have a filter.”

“Neither. I'm just statin’ the truth, ain’t I?” Eggsy said with a shit-eating grin.

Without hesitation, Julian pressed a hand against Eggsy’s bleeding head. The latter cried out in pain when the former put more pressure in his grip.

“I really, really don’t like you, Mr. Unwin,” growled Julian as he released his grip, leaving Eggsy gasping for breath.

When Eggsy got his breathing in order, he scoffed and said, “Feelin’s mutual. Always thought you had a huge stick up your arse, an’ I can see why now.” He finished with a smirk.

Eggsy was greeted with a punch to the face, a crack of bone breaking as he moaned loudly, blood streaming from his nose and mouth, his split lip bleeding more profusely than before.

From behind the screen, Julian sighed a long-suffering sigh. He turned his back on Eggsy to prop his Rainmaker against the concrete wall before turning to face the bleeding agent.

“I’ve had enough of your petty behaviour, Mr. Unwin,” he started, withdrawing his gun from his holster. “Besides, this is a recording I am going to send to Kingsman after I’m done with you.”

Eggsy couldn’t mask the panic he felt, his eyes widening as Julian clicked off the safety of his Glock to point it at him.

“Why’re you doin’ this, eh?” he croaked out, ignoring the steady stream of blood pouring from his nose to his mouth.

“For shits and giggles,” was the older man’s sarcastic response.

“I mean why’d you want Harry dead in the first place?”

There was silence before Julian replied.

“I never had an easy time growing up, what with five older brothers and two younger sisters. With Kingsman, I found a place where I belonged. It was where I shined, and I was praised for my skills and achievements. Then V-Day happened, and the aftermath of it led to me as the acting Arthur. It was supposed to be me, you know? But then, Harry -“ He spat out the name with so much hate, making Eggsy blink in surprise. “- Came back, and everyone decided to assign him the Arthur title instead. I deserved that title! I worked tirelessly for months to get Kingsman back up and running, and if it weren’t for me, our organization would’ve hit rock bottom. But no, you lot decided to assign a crippled man the position I worked hard to obtain!”

“Harry ain’t no crippled man, you arse,” cried out Eggsy defensively. “He’s the best agent Kingsman has had, an’ he’ll always be a better man than you’ll ever be!"

Without warning, Julian aimed and fired a shot. A shrill, heart-wrenching scream emitted from Eggsy’s lips, his right kneecap fractured and bleeding.

“Fuck,” whispered Merlin and Percival in unison.

All Harry could do was stare at the screen with wide eyes as he watches the love of his life get shot repeatedly by someone whom he once called a friend.

The four occupants in the room looked on in horror mixed with helplessness as Julian fired another well-aimed shot at Eggsy’s right thigh, and then another on his left shoulder. Each shot brought a scream from Eggsy, who had tear tracks staining his bloodied face.

“Don’t take this personally, Eggsy,” spoke Julian nonchalantly, and most likely with a shrug for all they know. “You just happened to be in the crossfire, that’s all.”

“They’ll find you, y'know,” Eggsy rasped out between gasps. He looked at Julian with loathing, eyes red-rimmed and glassy. “As of right now, Merlin’s trackin’ you. They’ll never stop huntin’ you down 'til you’re dead, an’ Harry’s gonna make sure you stay that way, you wanker.”

“Oh, I’m beside myself in fear,” drawled Julian sarcastically, walking closer towards Eggsy a second time, like a predator to its prey. “You hear that, Merlin? Harry? Or should I say, Arthur? I’m not as alone as you think I am, so be warned: I will not hesitate to kill any one you send.”

“Don’ worry,” interjected Eggsy, always wanting to have the last say. “Harry won’t lose sleep over puttin' a bullet between your eyes.”

“He can try,” snarled Julian through clenched teeth.

And the last they saw before the recording ended was Julian hitting the side of Eggsy’s face with the barrel of his gun.

Merlin’s office was silent save for the occupants’ heavy breathing. Roxy had a tight grip on Percival’s arm, the man looking torn between wanting to comfort his girlfriend and the desire to hunt down Julian himself to kill him with his bare hands. Merlin, who remained seated, removed his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly.

Harry, face carefully composed, thrust his fists inside his trousers pockets in order to hide the slight tremor in his hands. His mind was reeling but his objective remained unchanged:

Hunt down Beringer and Julian.

Although, ‘Rescue Eggsy’ is at the top of his priority list now, along with ‘Torture Julian’ as a close second.

“Were you able to track down the signal from where it was recorded?” he asked when the silence was starting to set his nerves on edge.

Merlin wore his glasses once more as he nodded. “Yes, it’s located at the same nightclub that Beringer owns. Julian must've forgotten that our Kingsman-issued glasses have a GPS tracker embedded in it since he didn’t switch it off.”

“We should go now,” suggested Roxy, face like steel. “We could still catch up to Bedi - Julian - if we strike now.”

“It was a recording, Roxanne,” reminded Percival carefully. “For all we know, that could’ve taken place last night. Was there a time stamp on what time it was recorded, Merlin?”

“No, there was none,” replied Merlin, regret in his voice.

“We still stick to the plan,” announced Harry, and the others turned to look at their leader. “But this time, we now know where Eggsy is. Let them wait on us, it will continue to drive them on edge the longer they wait, and Julian’s confidence and arrogance will waver when he realises we’re not going to bite into his trap. Merlin, send out a group message to the others on what we just found out today.”

“On it now.”

“We’ll leave the responsibility of killing Julian in your hands, then,” remarked Percival to Harry’s back, who was about to leave the office.

Harry stopped and looked over his shoulder at Percival, expression cold and neutral as a deadly smirk grew on his lips.

“Kill him? That’s too easy, Percival. I’m going to mutilate that bastard and make him wish he never step foot in Kingsman.”

With that said, he nodded to his agents in farewell, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

“Remind me to never get on his bad side,” murmured Percival to Roxy, to which the young Lancelot acknowledged with a twitch of her lips.

----------

Route 69, the nightclub that Yuri Beringer owns, proved to be a successful business. The establishment had two floors, the spacious dance floor taking up almost two-fourths of the room. It was only nearing nine in the evening yet the club was fully packed, ranging from late teens to middle aged people.

The music was deafening to the point that you couldn’t hear yourself think, the song beating in time with your heartbeat. The smell of sweat, sex, and alcohol permeated the air, leaving the crowd wilder and craving for more.

All of a sudden, a group of nine strutted into the nightclub. They were dressed in impeccably made bespoke suits and black domino masks, except for the man in the middle who looked to be their leader. He was tall, lean, and had an aura of charisma and elegance about him - the cordovan tone of his matted domino mask accentuating the hue of his chocolate-coloured eyes.

The people who first noticed their entrance immediately stopped what they were doing to stare openly at them. The group of nine continued to walk confidently towards the dance floor, the sea of people they passed by with no hesitation stopping and gazing after them.

It came to the point that all the occupants of the club was staring at the gentlemen and woman in suits, standing in a straight line - silent and expectant save for the music that was eventually turned down by the resident DJ.

“You’re probably at the wrong place, mate,” said the DJ, a medium-sized bloke with a mohawk and tattoos painted across his arms and neck.

The attractive man with the brown mask stepped forward and simply said, “We have business to attend with one Yuri Beringer, the owner of this establishment. I believe we were invited by his, ah, partner.” The man spoke the last word with scorn, a barely concealed smirk playing across his lips.

At the mention of Beringer’s name, the DJ’s posture turned rigid. He wasn’t even subtle at glancing at the guards surrounding the room, a twitch in his right eye that was most likely a signal for code red.

The DJ looked back at the men and woman in suits and said with mock politeness, “Suppose you came to the right place, then.”

The leader’s lips twitched as he responded with, “Hmm, yes, I’m afraid so.”

And without warning, his eight companions withdrew their guns from their holsters, aiming it at the several guards who were slowly making their way for them. The horde of people surrounding them started to panic and shout in alarm, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire between what looked to be a mob war of some sort. Not waiting for an order, the swarm of people did it with their own initiative to evacuate the premises. They scampered and bumped their way towards the small exit, not caring if they got injured in the process so long as they made it out alive.

When all was left were the people in suits and Beringer’s goons, there was an unexpected silence.

With carefully measured movements, the attractive leader with the cordovan domino mask slowly detached it from his face. He threw the mask to the side impetuously in exchange for a pair of tortoiseshell square-framed glasses. His companions did the same, using one hand to throw aside their masks to swap it for black square-framed glasses - their other hand occupied with their Glocks that was still trained on their targets.

“Let me introduce myself,” continued the man, perfectly composed and well mannered that was in complete contrast to the situation at hand. “My name is Harry Hart, and these are my friends. We work for the same organization and recently, it was brought to our attention that you have one of ours. He goes by the name of Eggsy Unwin, and we want him back, please.”

“We don’t know anyone with that name, gramps,” spoke the DJ, an ugly sneer painted across his face that’s filled with acne. “But if you drop your weapons and come with us willingly, then maybe I’ll be able to tell you what we know.”

To his right, Harry heard Lancelot scoff and say under her breath, “Typical.”

Sighing at the absurdity of it, Harry rolled his eyes and in a flash he withdrew his pistol from his holster, aiming it at the DJ and shooting him in the head.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t make myself clear the first time,” Harry continued coldly, still maintaining his calm composure as Mohawk falls to the floor in a graceless heap. “Compliance on our end is not an option."

And that’s when it all went tits up and the bloodbath began.

-----

Ten minutes and several bodies strewn across the dance floor later, Harry moved towards the door that leads to the basement. He unloaded the empty magazine of his Glock to load a new one, the rest doing the same behind him.

“Oops, I forgot to do something,” voiced Gareth suddenly, and he retraced his steps back to the dance floor.

The corner of Harry’s lips twitched upwards, already having an idea on what their perky agent was up to. He opened the door and didn’t hesitate to walk down the stairs, confidence in his steps.

When they reached the ground, there was another door, and that’s when Harry paused.

Eggsy’s somewhere inside that room, and he’ll be damned if he let anything bad happen to his dear boy again. Not on his watch.

“You know your roles in this operation,” he said. “Merlin, what’s the status on Julian?”

Merlin’s voice crackled over the comm of their glasses. “Bastard managed to turn off the GPS in his glasses, so I don’t know where he is now. But if you get a hold on Beringer, you can interrogate him for intel.”

“Lovely,” answered Percival with barely restrained glee. Lancelot snorted beside him and Kay rolled his eyes.

Harry just smirked and said, “Copy that, Merlin.” And to his right, he said, “You can play with Beringer after I’m done with him, Percival.”

“Take your time, Arthur,” replied Percival with a lopsided grin.

Harry turned his head to glance at his agents, looks of determination on their faces and bodies wired with adrenaline. He couldn’t be more proud of them than in this moment. He was about to open his mouth to signal that he was about to open the door when out of the blue, the familiar riffs of a guitar started playing from the speakers above.

Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement, noting that the others were starting to grin at Gareth’s choice of music. Through the comm, they heard Merlin sigh in exasperation and say, “Back to work, lady and gentlemen.”

With a final nod, Harry took a deep breath then opened the door. It was a good thing that Gareth decided to play the song because in that moment, the room - packed with Beringer’s goons with the leader nowhere to be seen - were armed, weapons trained on them the moment the door was opened.

With finesse, Harry didn’t hesitate to shoot the nearest henchman through the brain.

It was exhilarating. The adrenaline pumping through his veins and the sadistic pleasure of seeing their opponents drop like flies. Harry ducked as Target Number Eight attempted to stab him with a butcher knife. He scoffed as he swiftly blocked Eight’s hits, moving elegantly to twist his arm behind the burly man’s back, who cried out in pain when Harry broke his wrist. Then Harry brought his gun to Eight’s neck and fired a shot.

He made quick work on his other targets - Christ, there were at least seventy of them - twisting and moving gallantly with the occasional shot here and there. He preferred his fists but Harry knew it was more efficient and less time consuming if he just put a bullet through their brains. But the pent-up fury inside him was begging to be let out, and it felt like Kentucky all over again. The urge and want to inflict pain and kill with abandon; but he felt more at peace knowing that he was in control, that he was cognizant of his actions.

So he let himself go - impaling Nine’s neck with Eight’s butcher knife; firing a bullet through Ten’s mouth; breaking Eleven’s neck one-handed as he shot Twelve between the eyes; and doing an impressive flying scissors kick to Thirteen’s neck, landing gracefully on the ground before firing two bullets to his chest.

In his peripheral vision, he could see the others doing a great job taking down Beringer’s men. He heard more than saw Gareth joining them, cackling madly as he fired four bullets to his target’s sternum. Smirking inwardly, Harry felt secretly gratified that at least one agent inherited the trigger-happy zest of the former Lancelot.

James would be so damn proud of his protegé.

Sidestepping Fourteen’s punch, Harry aimed a roundhouse kick before firing a bullet at his opponent’s throat. He was now in the middle of a fight with Fifteen when he saw Beringer at the corner of his eye, the bastard obviously walking towards him with purpose. Not wasting time, Harry killed Fifteen by twisting his neck, leaving him to drop to the floor inelegantly as he faced Beringer.

“I have to say, I expected you to be taller, Mr. Hart,” said Beringer in greeting. He had a metal baseball bat in hand, raising it threateningly just to let the barrel rest on his free hand.

Harry cocked his head to the side, the sounds of gunshots and men (and woman) shouting and grunting a background noise for what is considered a standoff between two leaders.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Beringer,” countered Harry politely, though his ruthless expression spoke volumes.

“Not at all,” replied Beringer with a sneer. “Julian isn’t here, sadly. He left hours ago after he was done with your pet. He was quite the screamer.” He added with an ugly grin.

Harry froze at that bit of information, his hand tightening on the grip of his gun. He heard Merlin swear through the comm but he ignored his friend, choosing to keep a tight leash on his anger.

Not right now, not to this tosser.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here then,” he said coolly, still managing to sound civil. “If you tell me where Julian is, I might let you live.”

Beringer raised a brow before snorting derisively.

“Your pet sucking my cock is more believable that than crock of shit,” he crudely stated, taking two steps closer towards Harry’s rigid form.

In that moment, Harry saw red. Fuck it all - decorum and acting like a gentleman be damned. Hell, nobody gets to talk about Eggsy like that, not when he has a say in it. Mustering to keep his breathing even, Harry unclenched his jaw as he closed the distance between him and Beringer.

“Do you want to know what I said to the last person who insulted Eggsy like that?” he questioned, one eyebrow raised. Beringer narrowed his eyes but didn’t reply, so Harry continued.

“Manieren. Machen uns. Zu Menschen. Now let me show you what that means.”

----------

Eggsy groggily woke up to the sound of gunshots, yells, and - wait, is that music playing?

He groaned at the painful throb in his head, his vision going blurry for several seconds. He tried to move his body, only to find himself crying out in agony when he realised too late that he had a shattered knee.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered under his breath, his vision darkening around the edges.

He focused on his breathing, and when he had that under control, he concentrated on the racket that was coming from outside. Eggsy was about to shout for help when he heard the unmistakable voice of Kay.

Hang on, wasn’t he in Italy with Gareth? He thought to himself.

“Gareth, this is not the appropriate time to play a Dire Straits song!” came the muffled yell of the agent.

“Any time is an appropriate time to play a Dire Straits song, Kay!” was the answering response of Gareth.

Several gunshots and bodies hitting the ground with a loud thud quickly followed this.

I must be in the basement, then, concluded Eggsy after he registered that the music was coming from upstairs. He found himself grinning despite his entire body aching and bleeding (he must’ve lost a lot of blood, considering he got shot three fuckin’ times) because fuck yes, he’s about to be rescued and it’s all thanks to Merlin’s tech skills.

Ah, you’re the guv’nor, bruv.

Before he could process more of what’s happening outside, the door suddenly burst open. Eggsy was about to make a smart-ass remark but stopped at the last second because damn, that is quite the entrance by Lancelot and Percival.

Both agents were decked in their best bespoke suits, hair still in place save for the smudge of blood across their cheek and knuckles.

“Eggsy,” both agents breathed out in relief, and no - that is not Roxy tearing up at the sight of her best friend, thank you very much.

Eggsy’s grin grew wider in response, wincing slightly at the split on his lip.

“Took you lot long enough, eh?” he croaked out teasingly. “Heard Kay and Gareth arguing, too.”

“That’s expected,” remarked Percival, making his towards Eggsy so he can start untying the young man’s bonds. “It’s a fucking relief to see you alive, Eggsy. Completely banged up, sure, but alive.”

“Ta, Percy,” muttered Eggsy with a groan when he could finally move his wrists. His skin was rubbed raw, but he didn’t mind the least bit. When he didn’t hear Percival correct him, he raised a brow. “What - you’re not goin’ to correct me to not call you ‘Percy’?”

Percival laughed humourlessly under his breath, untying the bonds from his feet with care. When he stood back up, he looked at Eggsy with warmth in his gaze and said, “I’d rather you call me ‘Percy’ than have you dead, honestly.”

Stunned at the unexpected confession, Eggsy blinked up at him, mouth slightly open.

“If my supposed death leads to you being this lenient, then I ought to do it more often,” he joked.

He paused when he saw the expressions on Percival and Lancelot’s faces. Okay, so that was the wrong thing to say, then.

“Uhm, too soon?” he said with a grimace.

Lancelot, who was standing by the door as look-out, just shakes her head as she says, “You survived a bombing, got tied and tortured for hours with a fractured kneecap to boot, and you still manage to crack jokes at the most inopportune time.”

Roxy was silent for a moment after that declaration, Eggsy waiting for the other shoe to drop but nothing happened. Instead, his best mate exhaled loudly and then said:

“I’m really fucking relieved that you’re alive, Eggsy,” she breathed out with a shaky smile.

Feeling a huge lump in his throat, Eggsy responded with a nod and a faint smile.

“Okay, Eggsy, I’m going to try and carry you,” interrupted Percival. It wouldn’t do to have a moment in the middle of the job, really.

Blinking, Eggsy nodded and cautiously worked out the kinks on his upper body, careful with his injuries.

“Just a heads up,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have a couple of broken ribs, plus that wanker Bedivere shot me on the left shoulder -“

“We know,” interrupted Lancelot brusquely, stiffening at the mere mention of Julian’s codename.

Eggsy glanced up at her questioningly.

“We watched the video he sent us,” she explained, not bothering to expand more as the look Eggsy gave her was telling enough.

“Merlin, Lancelot and I are about to extract Eggsy,” spoke Percival. “But I’m gonna need Bors and Ector here as back-up. Eggsy's injuries are more delicate than we first perceived." Then he added, "Arthur, we have Eggsy. What is your status?”

At the mention of Harry’s codename, Eggsy perked up.

“Wait, Harry’s here? I thought he would be in Prague for his mission?” he asked, glancing at his friends for an answer.

“Did you seriously think Harry would prioritize anything else over you and your well-being?” Percival asked him rhetorically. Smug idiot even dared to smirk down at him.

Lancelot huffs out a laugh as she adds, “Oh, Eggsy. If you must know, he’s currently interrogating Yuri Beringer.” She emphasised the ninth word with a knowing look.

Bloody hell.

“That’s my Harry,” Eggsy blurt out with pride. Realising what he just uttered a moment later, he flushed, ignoring the teasing looks Roxy and Percival were giving him. “Er…”

“Bors and Ector are on the way here,” announced Percival, saving the injured agent from further embarrassment. “Hang in there, Eggsy, okay?”

Feeling woozy all of a sudden, Eggsy just nodded and decided to close his eyes for a bit, unbeknownst to the other two occupants sharing a worried look. The adrenaline he felt earlier was diminishing at an alarming rate, causing him to feel the throbbing ache in his bones. Not to mention that he had bullets embedded into his body and he was losing more blood. Yeah, it’s a shitty feeling, all right.

Less than two minutes later, Bors and Ector entered the room. Their suits were torn across the sleeves and Ector had an ugly gash across his cheek, but otherwise both agents looked fine. They saw Eggsy and their faces immediately lit up at the sight of their youngest agent, despite Eggsy looking paler by the minute.

“Eggsy!”

“It’s so great to see you alive, Galahad.”

If he didn’t feel like throwing up, Eggsy would have greeted them cheerfully; but all he could summon was a weak smile and wow, is the Earth tilting or is that his head falling sideways?

He didn’t hear his colleagues shout his name in alarm. He was half aware of Percival manoeuvering his upper body while Ector painstakingly takes hold of his legs, cautious of his fractured kneecap. Slowly, and mindful of their steps, Bors led Percival and Ector out of the room with Lancelot bringing up the rear.

They didn’t meet anyone until they reached what was considered the main hall, where Tristan and Kay were killing the last of Beringer’s men. Harry was nowhere to be found, so he must still be torturing Beringer for information on Julian. Meanwhile, Gareth and Gawain were searching the other rooms for more hostiles - the former firing unnecessary shots at the already dead men.

“You’re wasting your bullets, Gareth,” they heard Gawain chastise Gareth, who just fired three rounds at another body.

Gareth lifted his eyebrows in acknowledgement as he nonchalantly said, “Just making sure they stay dead.”

“There are bullets lodged through their skulls, of course they’ll stay dead.”

“Better safe than sorry,” was the lame reply.

Bors stepped over a dead henchman’s arm, but Ector didn’t see it as he was walking backwards; so he tripped on the arm, therefore losing his balance and forcing him to let go of one of Eggsy’s legs in order to find his equilibrium. Unfortunately, the leg he let go of was the injured one.

The hall was suddenly filled with Eggsy’s heart wrenching screams as his leg hits the cemented floor.

“Oh, fuck!"

“Put him down!” barked Percival at Ector, immediately setting Eggsy down to the ground.

There were tears streaming down Eggsy’s cheeks, his face scrunched up in agony. Not finding anything to prop his upper body up against, Percival resolved to kneel behind Eggsy’s hunched form. He wrapped one arm around his torso; careful of his broken ribs as his other hand came up to rest on top of Eggsy’s head to comfort the young man.

“I’m so sorry, Eggsy,” apologised Ector repeatedly, a guilty look gracing his features.

Eggsy’s cries eventually turned to whimpers, and to his right Lancelot was gripping his uninjured hand in comfort and support.

“‘Arry,” he mumbled, eyes red-rimmed and glassy with pain. “Want ‘Arry.”

Coincidentally, and as if he heard Eggsy’s pleas, a door in the distance opened and closed. At the sight of Eggsy and the other agents crowding around his injured boy, Harry immediately strode towards them, kneeling by Eggsy’s left to place a warm and bloody hand across the young agent’s cheek.

“Eggsy,” Harry breathed out softly, gaze softening as his thumb stroked the tears away from Eggsy's eyes. “I’m here, Eggsy.”

“‘Arry,” was Eggsy’s weak reply. He leaned towards Harry’s hand, closing his eyes as if to relish their moment of reunion. “S’good to see you."

And what a reunion it was. The other agents looked at each other in slight discomfort, knowing that they were all intruding into a moment meant between two lovers-to-be. But this was the situation that was thrust upon them, so they would have to make do. Besides, it’s not often they witness their leader gazing lovingly at someone as if the sun shone out of their arse.

It just so happened that that someone was Eggsy, their youngest agent, and they couldn’t have thought of a better partner for Harry.

“It’s good to see you, too, my boy,” replied Harry with a trembling smile. “You’re going to be okay. Merlin will make sure that you’re taken care of."

Mustering what energy he had left, Eggsy pried his right hand from Roxy’s to rest it against Harry’s hand on his cheek. He forced his eyes open to stare at Harry’s brown orbs, filled with love and longing and a fierce protectiveness that if Eggsy were breathing regularly, it would’ve knocked the breath right out of him.

“Be safe, ‘kay?” he muttered inarticulately, his vision starting to darken around the edges. How fuckin' grand. “Come b’ck to me, ‘Arry.”

With those words said, Eggsy lost consciousness, eyes closing and right hand going slack as it loosens its grip on Harry’s.

The other agents averted their gazes as Harry bit his lower lip, a pained look taking over his features as he moved to plant a soft and sweet kiss to Eggsy’s forehead, heedless of the sweat and dried blood that covered it.

“Always, my love,” he whispered against his dear boy’s forehead before leaning back.

If Percival heard Harry’s declaration, he didn’t acknowledge it, save for the small quirk of his lips that indicated he found the sentiment touching.

Releasing a breath he didn't realise he was holding, Harry carefully masked his expression as he stood up. With a last, fond look at Eggsy he addressed his fellow agents.

“I have the information we need on Julian,” he began, easily switching to Arthur-mode. “According to Beringer, Julian’s in a safe house somewhere outside of London. I’m having Merlin track him down based from what Beringer has given me. Lancelot, Gareth, and Bors - I want you three to take Eggsy back to HQ. Preferably right now, please.”

The three agents nodded, Lancelot standing up from her kneeling position. Gareth replaced Percival, who carefully manoeuvred the unconscious body into the former’s arms, Bors moving to carry Eggsy’s legs cautiously. With Lancelot’s assistance, they slowly made their way out of the basement, taking the stairs one at a time so as not to jostle Eggsy awake again.

Harry continued speaking after they were gone. "Gawain, Ector, Kay, and Tristan - you’re in charge of rounding up the bodies here. Search for whatever information you can find on Beringer and his arms dealing business, both locally and internationally. Make sure Merlin receives all the data you gather - he will send what you find to both MI-5 and MI-6. And Percival, I leave Beringer in your hands.” He finished with a smirk, to which Percival replied with a feral grin of his own.

“It would be my pleasure, Arthur,” he replied as he stood from the ground. With a final nod, he walked towards where Harry came from, quietly opening the door and closing it with a loud snap.

The brief time it took Percival to close the door, the remaining agents managed to catch a glimpse of Beringer. He was tied down to a chair the same way Eggsy was tied earlier. Except that he was stripped to his briefs, body covered with bruises, blood, and - shit, his right hand definitely missing three fingers.

“You’re going after Julian alone, then,” stated Kay after a moment of silence.

“Of course,” was Harry’s simple reply. “He wants it personal, so I’ll give him what he wants."

“Come on now, Arthur,” chided Tristan. “Don’t hog the bastard to yourself.”

“In that case, I’ll do my best to bring back what’s left of him,” countered Harry dryly, buttoning his double-breasted suit jacket and making his way towards the door leading to the first floor.

“Now you’re just taking the piss,” called out Ector with a playful smirk.

Harry reached the door when he paused and looked over his shoulder to say, “Not this time, I’m afraid.”

And then he was gone.

“Yes,” declared Gawain with a nod. “Julian’s utterly fucked, alright.”

The others couldn’t help but agree more.

----------

Somewhere on the outskirts of London, one Julian Grant was sitting comfortably on the armchair of a well-kept cabin, a safe house he acquired fifteen years ago when he was still the good little knight at Kingsman. And fifteen years later, he’s not the same person he once was, but if there was one thing that remained consistent, it was that the existence of this safe house remained a secret from the prying eyes of the organization.

Well, save for Beringer, who occasionally stays the night after a few rounds of rough fucking. He doesn’t love him, nor will he ever do, but the company was nice. And besides, Yuri fucks like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have, so there’s that.

Downing the whiskey he was drinking, he was about to pour himself another when there was a distinctive knock on his door. Raising his brows, he glanced at the clock on his mantle, noting that it was already nearing eleven. Smirking, Julian stood up from the comfort of his armchair, loosely tying the belt of his burgundy robe and making his way towards the front door.

It was unusually early of Yuri to come by. He usually arrives after midnight, but maybe the business back at Route 69 was already taken care of. Grinning, the former Kingsman agent unbolted the locks and opened the door wide.

Only to be greeted with a punch to the face.

The force of the punch knocked Julian backwards, and if he were wearing his slippers he would’ve righted himself immediately. Sadly, he was barefoot but his reflexes were quick as he grabbed hold of the baluster. He righted himself quickly to see his unwanted guest, only to gawk at the sight of Harry Hart.

Who knew the secret knock that he gave to Beringer and Beringer alone.

He took a few steps back as Hart walked through the threshold with measured steps, closing the front door behind him with a quiet click. Julian felt his insides freeze when Hart’s cold, lethal gaze fixed on him.

Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, the person (or people) receiving that look never ended up alive. And Julian was perfectly aware that he already sealed his fate the moment he laid a hand on Hart’s pet.

----------

“Hello, Julian,” Harry greets disdainfully. He wasn’t carrying a gun; instead he opted to take his beloved Rainmaker with him. For old time’s sake.

“Harry,” greeted Julian stiffly, blood flowing from his nose. He takes another step backward, only to hit the wall behind him. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Spare me the niceties, Julian,” snapped Harry. “You said you wanted me dead. Well, here I am.” He spread his arms wide, tilting his head slightly and raising an eyebrow in challenge. “That is, if you can.”

Not waiting for an invitation, Harry lunged at Julian, who ducked to the side to avoid the handle of the Rainmaker from hitting his face for the second time. He twisted his body and aimed a well-timed punch at Harry’s side, but the latter recovered quickly, elbowing the traitor on the side of the head.

Julian stumbled, and he fumbled behind him for the side table in the living room for any weapon to use against his attacker. His hands finally clasped on an ashtray, and he didn’t hesitate to throw it at Harry.

The contents landed on Harry’s suit, much to his dismay. And such a good suit, too. Harry growled as he used the handle of his Rainmaker to hit Julian in the solar plexus, causing the latter to double over in pain. This gave Harry an opening as he methodically moved to the side to grab Julian by the neck using his umbrella’s handle, and flinging him into the wooden coffee table. Julian crashed onto it face first, the splinters digging into his flesh like tiny needles.

“You’re fighting dirty, Hart,” Julian said, spitting out blood on the carpeted floor. “I never pegged you to be the kind of agent to fight like that.”

“You never pegged me for a lot of things,” replied Harry coldly, walking slowly towards Julian’s form.

The latter was on his back when he noticed Harry moving towards him like a panther that’s about to pounce on its prey. He only managed to sit up and take hold of one of the table’s legs to use it as a weapon when Harry walked over him and stepped on his right knee that was slightly bended. The force of Harry’s kick was so powerful that Julian felt than heard his patella break, and the screams that followed reverberated in the small household.

“You shouldn’t have done what you did,” Harry spoke once the screams subsided, an unsympathetic look on his face. “You are a fucking disgrace to Kingsman, Julian.”

Harry unbuttoned his ruined suit jacket and withdrew his gun from his shoulder holster. Julian’s eyes widened in unconcealed fear as Harry switched the safety off and trained his gun at him.

“H-Harry,” he stammered. “We c-can talk about this. Like adults. We're frien-“

Unfortunately, he was cut off by the sound of a gun firing. Julian let out another scream of anguish as Harry put a bullet through his left kneecap.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my gun shooting you,” uttered Harry, voice like steel. “Would you mind repeating yourself?”

Gritting his teeth in barely concealed anger, Julian opened his mouth - and spat on Harry’s oxfords. It was a bad aim to begin with, but specks of blood and saliva still managed to land on the toe box of Harry's polished shoes.

Harry stared down at his ruined oxfords, displeased. He then looked up and met Julian in the eyes before firing two more shots. This time, it hit both of Julian’s palms, the man shouting in pain once more.

“Your betrayal to Kingsman is already unforgivable,” Harry continued as he started walking around Julian’s prone form, gun still trained on him. “Of course, your attempt at assassinating me is enough to send you a lifetime in prison. But you had to hurt the one person who matters most to me, didn’t you?” Harry stopped in front of Julian, head slightly tilted as he looked at the man he once considered a friend with utter loathing. “You had to make a statement, because what? They chose me as Arthur over you? That is the most immature thing I have ever seen you do, Julian. And you were such a promising agent to begin with.”

Sighing heavily, Harry turned his back on Julian to set down his Rainmaker and Glock on the couch so that he can shrug out of his suit jacket. After draping it casually over the arm of the couch, Harry rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt; when he was done, he turned to face Julian, only to see the bastard inch his way towards the armchair.

Harry rolled his eyes, both at Julian’s pathetic actions and Gareth crooning through the comm of his Kingsman glasses.

"Somebody’s gonna hurt someone before the night is through. Somebody’s gonna come undone, there’s nothin’ we can do."

“Gareth, do shut up,” came Merlin’s dry comment.

Smirking inwardly and knowing that most of the agents were either listening or watching in, Harry decided to ignore them for the time being.

Focusing his attention back on Julian, Harry steadily walked towards him, a dangerous smile gracing his handsome face.

“Now, Julian, I’m going to teach you a lesson,” he began as he loosened his tie before unknotting it from his neck. “Lesson number one: manners maketh man.”

----------

One hour, a ruined tie, an empty gun, and several broken bones later, Harry opened the front door of the safe house sans suit jacket, only to be greeted by Percival and Lancelot, with the rest of the Kingsman agents bar Merlin and Eggsy (who is now in a stable condition at the infirmary in HQ, thanks to Merlin’s update) standing behind them.

In the living room, Julian was tied to his armchair, sleepwear ruined and drenched in his own blood. His face was terribly swollen, and he looked to be missing a left ear. He seemed to be unconscious, his chest rising and falling shallowly.

Not surprised, Harry opened the door wider as he stepped out of the house to let the others see the state he left Julian in.

Ector whistled, impressed, before saying, “You really weren’t taking the piss.”

Harry rolled his eyes before meeting Percival’s slightly smug gaze. The latter had dried blood on his hands, which indicated that he’s recently finished on Beringer.

“I take it you’ve finally disposed of Beringer?” Harry inquired.

“You could barely recognise him,” remarked Percival with a triumphant smirk. To his left, Lancelot rolled her eyes in mild exasperation.

“Well, don’t torture him too much. I already did most of the dirty work,” Harry says, referring to Julian and draping his suit jacket over his arm. He was itching to return to HQ, where he will take a long, hot shower before going straight to Eggsy’s room where he will wait for his dear boy to wake up.

“I’ll most likely sing Disney songs to him,” quipped Gareth with an evil grin. “Heard that he doesn’t like those kind of songs. Such a shame, really.”

“Go, Harry,” said Merlin through the comm, and it was obvious that the rest can hear the quartermaster as they were still wearing their Kingsman glasses. “Eggsy’s waiting for you.”

Harry’s face lighted up at the mention of Eggsy being awake, completely ignoring the chuckles from behind him.

He started walking towards his Ducati when he said, “In that case, Merlin, please tell Eggsy I’m coming home."

Chapter Text

7.

Three months later

The sun’s rays broke out over the horizon on a warm morning, embracing the city in a cocoon of warmth and sunlight. The light reached through the bedroom’s glass windows of a two-storey house that belonged to one Harry Hart. And said man was currently curled up in bed, spooned behind a younger man named Eggsy Unwin, whose legs were entangled with his lover’s.

The two had their eyes closed, the only indication that they were awake was Harry rubbing soothing circles across Eggsy’s bare stomach, slightly plump with lack of exercise due to being bedridden for almost two months. Eggsy hummed contentedly when Harry trailed kisses down the side of his neck.

“Good mornin’,” greets Eggsy, opening his eyes and turning his head to look over his shoulder. Harry was already looking at him with a tender expression.

“It is, indeed,” Harry replies fondly, kissing the tip of Eggsy’s nose. “Good morning yourself, darling. Did you sleep well?”

“With the way you fucked me last night, I sure did,” Eggsy says playfully with a small smirk.

He turns his body, careful with his movements, before draping an arm around Harry’s waist and resting his head on the crook of the older man’s neck.

Harry chuckles and wraps an arm around his shoulders, kissing his forehead before simply saying, “I won’t apologize for that, considering it was a long time coming.”

There was silence before Eggsy snorts.

“Did you seriously just make a pun?” he asks, giggling. Fucking hell, that was a first.

He feels more than sees Harry roll his eyes as he says, “It was begging to be made.”

“Goddamnit, Harry.”

Harry finally releases a laugh, hugging Eggsy tighter to him. Eggsy looks up at him in adoration, and Harry can’t help but kiss those enticing lips, his smile widening through the kiss when Eggsy licks and bites his lower lip coquettishly.

“I love you,” he says when they break apart for air, lips swollen red and voice slightly gravelly from sleep and lust.

Eggsy’s wanton gaze melted into a soft expression, his blue-green eyes looking bigger and brighter in that moment.

“I love you, too, Harry,” he responds sweetly, lips quirking into a smile. He nudges Harry’s chin with his nose before kissing the pulse in his throat. “’M so thankful for you, y’know. You make me so fuckin’ happy.”

Harry hums in agreement, turning on his side so he can wrap his other arm around Eggsy’s waist. The blanket covering their naked bodies waist down falls even lower, and Harry could feel the slight hardness of his lover’s shaft against his. He chose to ignore it for the time being, wanting to draw out this tranquil moment between them.

“And I you, my dear boy,” he replies, resting his chin on top of Eggsy’s tousled blond locks. “This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Silence greets them, but it’s the comfortable kind of silence as both men take in each other’s scent – relishing in the close intimacy between them as moments like this rarely happen with their line of work.

When Harry returned to HQ after torturing Julian all those months ago, he made it a point to dedicate as much time as he can to Eggsy. The young Galahad suffered so much in a short span of time during his abduction, and his injuries attested to that. Thankfully, his broken ribs didn’t puncture his lungs or any of the vital organs, but he suffered a major concussion that left the agent irate and woozy for several days. Aside from the broken nose, split lip, and swollen wrists due to the ropes that bound him, his healing progress was gradual.

The gunshot wounds, however, were another story. His left shoulder healed well, much to Eggsy’s relief, but his right knee was an entirely different matter. There was a patellar fracture in his kneecap and, according to the doctor, the broken pieces of the bone moved out of line - causing the young man to undergo immediate surgery after he was admitted into HQ’s infirmary. For six weeks, he had to wear a brace on his right leg. He couldn’t move much, hence being bedridden for a long period of time. After the brace was removed, Eggsy underwent physical therapy for a month and a half. And each day that Eggsy went through the entire healing process, Harry was there every step of the way.

The pair finally managed to have their private reunion, away from prying eyes and gleeful stares. Well, as private as it can be considering that Eggsy’s ward had a surveillance camera attached for security reasons. But of course, that didn’t deter them from making out like a couple of horny teenagers, with Harry almost opening the stitches on Eggsy’s shoulder, much to the latter’s amusement (and mild discomfort).

At some point, they managed to talk openly about the issues that occurred between them before the incident - Harry apologizing profusely to Eggsy about his abduction and blaming himself for the torment that he went through. But every time Harry opened his mouth to say those words, Eggsy lets him finish before giving his lover a lecture on the responsibilities of a Kingsman agent and how he takes those responsibilities very seriously. More so that it involved Harry, the Arthur of the UK division of the secret spy organization, and the leader they all look up to for guidance.

“I already said this before and I’ll say it again,” Eggsy had said in mild exasperation mixed with fondness after another long discussion about self-sacrifice and duty. “If by my life or death I can protect you, I will.”

“You do know you just quoted Aragorn from Lord of the Rings, right?” Harry had commented, staring at his dear boy affectionately.

“Oh, I know,” Eggsy had replied with an impish grin. “But the intent behind that message is still sincere, you posh nerd."

Harry just beamed in response, dimples showing at how wide he was smiling, before leaning over his chair to kiss his darling boy breathless.

That was one of the most peaceful days they shared together when Eggsy was still in the infirmary recuperating, and Eggsy will always be thankful for the little moments they had and will continue to have.

After some time of, Eggsy eventually nudged Harry’s throat with his nose, signaling for the latter to look down at him.

“I still can’t believe I got demoted,” he states with a pout. “Why did you even accept Merlin’s proposal in the first place? I bet he was just taking the piss."

Harry huffs out a laugh, a wide smile gracing his handsome features that left Eggsy breathless when he looked up at him.

“I wouldn’t really call it a demotion,” Harry remarks with a sly smirk. “After all, you get to work closely with me from now on. I think that’s an added bonus.”

“Hmm, it does have its perks,” Eggsy agrees with a nod. “Though, I am going to miss being Galahad.”

“I will as well, but I do honestly think it’s for the best,” answers Harry soberly.

Eggsy silently agrees, but then coyly adds, “We could even have a quickie on our lunch break, if you’re up for that.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m already up for that,” Harry replies crudely, pressing his the length of his hard and leaking cock against Eggsy’s suggestively.

Eggsy’s breath hitches before he covers it with a fake gasp.

“Why, Mr. Hart, did you just make another pun?” he puts on a fake shocked expression for effect.

“I believe I just did, Mr. Unwin. Are you going to do something about that?” Harry wiggles his eyebrows flirtatiously, a grin growing on his lips.

Eggsy smirks right then, bringing himself up to lean over Harry, his hand trailing down to the sparse hairs matted over Harry’s firm chest.

“Well, I certainly know who I’m going to do.”

Eggsy conceals Harry’s laugh by covering his lips over the older man’s, his own smile widening when he feels Harry’s tongue meet his. The latter’s hands starts to wander down south to grip Eggsy’s firm buttocks - and well, Eggsy’s really fucking glad for Sunday mornings like this.

----------

Eggsy finally reports for work at HQ the following day.

“Harry, Eggsy, so glad you can finally join us,” greets Merlin with a self-satisfied smirk.

Harry rolls his eyes but greets his long time friend with a nod and cheeky smile. To his right, Eggsy winks at the tech wizard, his left hand intertwined with Harry’s right while his other hand was wrapped around the handle of a wooden cane. When they entered the meeting room, the sight of the rest of the Kingsman agents seated around the round table greeted them.

Gareth, who was settled between Kay and Gawain, grinned widely when he saw Eggsy and greeted the pair enthusiastically. Ector and Tristan, who were busy talking over hushed tones, looked up when they heard Gareth shout a greeting to Eggsy and Harry (“Good morning, Mr. and Mr. Hart!” “For fuck’s sake, Gareth!”). The two men blushed, Eggsy shaking his head in amusement at the former Lancelot’s protégé.

Harry made conscious effort to take moderate steps as Eggsy limps beside him, the grip the former had on his lover's hand tightening as a sign of support and comfort.

“All right, Eggsy?” Roxy greets her best mate from beside Percival.

“All right, Roxy,” Eggsy answers with a wink, giving Percival a knowing nod and smirk, which the older agent replied with a nod and smirk of his own.

When Harry takes his place at the head of the round table after helping Eggsy into his own seat, he finally signals Merlin to begin the briefing.

“Initially, this assignment was meant to be a two-person mission,” Merlin begins, holographic images appearing from the centre of the table after making a few clicks on his iPad. “But unfortunately, the Prime Minister’s three children - two daughters and one son - have been abducted by the human trafficking ring in the country. Their location is still unknown, but the Kingsman Tech Department in Greece is currently working on it. And since the Greek Division is still lacking agents, courtesy of V-Day, Agamemnon has called in a favour if we’re willing to send out a couple of our own.”

“I’m down for that,” interrupts Gareth with barely concealed glee. “How many are you sending, Merlin? Am I in it?”

Bors rolls his eyes playfully at the energetic agent. "Typical Gareth."

“Well, you’re all going, actually,” announces Merlin with a pleased smile. Then he quickly adds, “You leave tomorrow at 0900. Arthur will be spearheading this mission as the Prime Minister wishes to speak to him personally.”

“This is exciting,” Ector remarks, rubbing his palms together. “It’s going to be our second mission as a team.”

Eggsy, momentarily confused, blinks. “I’m sorry – ‘second mission’?”

“Rescuing you was our first mission as a team, Eggsy,” contributes Kay, smiling softly at the slightly surprised agent.

Eggsy recovers immediately and utters, “Well, that’s nice to hear. But as this will be my first, do go gentle on me.”

The rest laughs while Harry fights a smile. If Chester King still lived, none of them would be this comfortable enough to crack jokes and drop formalities. Since their first mission together three months ago, Harry had observed that they have all grown closer.

They’re still Kingsman agents, and they’ll always have an obligation to serve and protect Queen and country. However, they’re also human beings with families and loved ones to go home to. It just so happened that these agents have also found a family in each other.

When the laughter died down, and Merlin continued his briefing on their new mission, Harry turned to stare at his partner who was seated to his right, a cheerful expression etched on his face.

“It’s great to have you back, Guinevere,” says Harry quietly, eyes gleaming with barely concealed happiness.

Eggsy turns to look at him, his mouth forming into a dimpled smile upon hearing Harry use his new codename.

“It’s great to be back, Arthur.”