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“Sorry about that, I needed to let off a little steam.”
“You could let steam off into my mouth.”
It fell off Eggsy’s tongue without hesitation, comfortable in the knowledge that the man across from him was at the very least a fag even if he wasn’t interested in Eggsy specifically.
Harry’s eyebrows climbed his forehead, and a hiccup of a sound left him in surprise.
Silence stretched for a moment, the man’s well manicured hand seeming to tighten around the now empty pint in front of him.
“I-,” a casually cleared throat, “I’m old enough to be your father, Eggsy.”
“Yeah, but you’re not him, are you?”
Maybe Eggsy had daddy issues, some men had told him as much when they’d fucked him, but he would probably rescind the offer if the man admitted such a thing.
“No, no I am not.”
“Soooo…” Eggsy makes sure that he holds eye contact as he takes a drag from his own pint, letting the froth build up on his lip to be licked away.
“Bollocks,” Harry grunts, and his following swallow moves the knot of his tie in a way that Eggsy has to follow with his eyes.
The well-dressed and put together man shifts forward and grabs Eggsy’s pint from his hand, pulling it towards himself and taking a sip over the imprint of Eggsy’s lips.
Harry’s legs move apart, and the young man smacks his hat down on the table before ducking beneath.
He knew to move his head to the side and dodge the metal beam in the middle of the table, knees shuffling across grime, peanut shells, and the stick of spilled beer.
Eggsy wondered if the handsome suit would judge him for being comfortable beneath a table in his local pub. Eggsy had learned these skills through force before, it seemed better to get to choose just who deserved what he could provide.
The older man’s leg twitches when Eggsy’s hand caresses up a pinstriped thigh, the cracked leather bench beneath his fit bottom squeaking as he makes room for the boy between his legs.
It feels dark and protected between suited thighs, hidden under the table as Eggsy is, desire warring with a slight shame at perhaps being too uncouth and staining the man’s perfect image.
But when his hands meet the fitted crotch of the man’s trousers, there is a tightness that wasn’t there before, something warm and hardening beneath the fabric.
All for Eggsy.
Harry’s hands remain on the table above, allowing Eggsy to go at his own pace and release the man from his pants until the full length of his cock is revealed.
Despite the effort the man had put into taking down the men in the bar –shit how long did Eggsy have before they started to rouse? – Harry still smelled clean, a rich cologne seeming to hang around him, even as the unmistakable scent of his arousal started to fill Eggsy’s nose.
The young chav ducks his head, avoiding the thick flushed length for a moment to instead bury his nose at the very source of the man’s cock.
He chuckles to himself when he finds well trimmed pubes, licking over the sensitive skin there and enjoying the pleased sigh he earns.
Mouthing from the root to the tip of Harry’s cock, he hovers over the mushroom head, allowing hot puffs of his breath to brush over the throbbing shaft.
“It’s only polite to express your appreciation, eh Harry?” But Eggsy doesn’t give the older man a chance to respond, opening his mouth wide and descending upon his prize.
He’s not sure which one of them moans more, but Harry doesn’t last more than a second before one of his well manicured hands slips off the table to cradle the back of Eggsy’s head.
It causes sparks of all sort of feelings to tingle up and down the man’s spine, he’s not being forced to take more, or getting fucked up into.
Harry is holding him, as if yearning for connection while he allows Eggsy to worship his cock.
Eggsy wants to take him apart, make him come undone.
Breathing slow through his nose, the man dips his head down, allowing the thick heat to slide deeper and deeper into his mouth, pressing all the way to the start of his throat.
A swallow pulls an appreciative hum from the man above him, which Eggsy takes as encouragement to really begin moving.
His hands remain bracing between Harry’s thighs, unsure if he is holding the man down, or just hiding the excited shake that might be revealed in their grasp.
Bobbing his head up and down, he categorizes the reactions he receives, what makes the fingers on his head scratch at his scalp.
Pressing the flat of his tongue along the thick vein running the length of Harry’s cock earns him an audible groan, and the man’s thighs even seem to open further, bringing the man closer.
Drool slicks Eggsy’s movements, his eyes closed as he just enjoys the taste and sensation, until he is stopped in his tracks, the grip on his head turning stern, pulling him off Harry’s cock.
But Eggsy does not whine at the loss, definitely does not glance up through his long lashes with his tongue hanging out sticky, a line of spit keeping him connected to the flushed length in front of him.
“May I provide you some release as well, Eggsy?” Harry asks after clearing his throat, but it does not hide the flush in his cheeks, the gruffness of his voice, or the dark of his pupils behind his glasses.
Eggsy nods, licking his lips, glancing back to his prize, not wanting to give it up but wondering if he’d let the older man bend him over the pub table.
He found that he’d let the man do just about anything to him.
But Harry relaxes his hold, gently pulling the man back down to where they both wanted, no needed him to be.
And as Eggsy returned to his enthusiastic movements, Harry shifted, a shiny, expensive dress shoe pressing up against the straining front of Eggsy’s denim.
For the first time Eggsy chokes on the cock filling his mouth, unable to do anything but squirm at the sensation.
He hadn’t even realized just how hard he had gotten sucking Harry’s cock. Because if he was honest, he had been hard the moment he’d begun beating the bastards in the pub.
After reveling for a moment, Eggsy renews his efforts, now desperate to get Harry to cum down his throat before he jizzed in his pants.
His hips gyrate into the man’s foot, the gentleman not even having to move, Eggsy chasing his pleasure. He might be ashamed of it when he wasn’t so cock-drunk, but at the moment, as drool leaked from his lips down a pulsing length, Eggsy couldn’t try to care about anything.
“That’s it, Eggsy, such a good boy,” Harry murmured, almost imperceptibly around the wet gagging sounds from Eggsy’s mouth, but the words electrified the young man, and he stiffened with gasping cries.
As his pants filled with cum, a dark wet patch spreading across the front of his denim, leaving a shine across perfect shoes, Eggsy took Harry as deep as he could.
Harry’s hand gripped Eggsy’s hair and for the first time, pushed. The gentleman seemed to have lost his final hold on his reins.
With the same precise efficiency that he had taken out the rubbage in the pub, the suited man’s hips snapped up into the wet and willing mouth of the cock-sucker before him.
Eggsy hummed in enjoyment at experiencing all the restrained strength fully, fingers bunching against powerful thighs. His own sticky cock gave a great twitch as if it would harden again at the pleasing sensations of being used by this perfect man.
Harry groans when he pulls Eggy right to the tip of his cock, the young man’s tongue circling the sensitive head, looking up from under the table to meet those desperate eyes.
Harry looked amazed, brows furrowed in that way when someone is overcome with pleasure that is almost painful.
“Fuck, Eggsy, you–” And then those eyes shut and the gentleman breaks, hunching forward, cock spurting across a waiting tongue.
Harry tastes almost good, the bitterness that Eggsy had experienced before muffled. Eggsy massages the man’s throbbing cock with his fist, milking every last drop.
As the rumpled man seems to finally be relaxing, breaths coming fast, Eggsy slinks back, tucking the softening cock back into its perfectly tailored prison.
Ever the gentleman, Harry stands, almost perfectly hiding the slight residual tremble in his legs, and helps Eggsy also stand.
His hands are remarkably caring as they take Eggsy’s hat, and carefully set it to rights on his head. The young chav has to reach up and knock it off-center as i’s supposed to be.
He likes the crinkle of Harry’s smiling eyes over his reddened cheeks.
Eggsy is surprised when a hand cups his cheek, a thumb, that has a callus belying the silver-spoon appearance of the man in front of him, brushing over his sticky lips.
“And may I kiss you, Eggsy?” It seems more astounding that blowing an old man in the pub. More shocking than a tailor taking down a group of bullies as if it was something he did everyday.
“Ye-yeah.” And the crack in his voice is definitely only because his throat is still coated with the stick of Harry’s cum.
Harry’s lips are soft, no doubt from fancy lip balm that tastes a bit like honey. Eggsy allows himself to be kissed, leaning into the older man, being led through the movements like a teenager all over again.
When they break apart slightly out of breath, Harry picks up the pint still on the table, his other hand having found its way to Eggsy’s waist.
The gentleman takes a sip, then presses the glass to Eggsy’s lips, tilting it and expecting the young man to follow through with the movement.
Something hot burns through the chav’s gut at the actions. It is caring, possessive, and controlling.
Eggsy had always been in charge of his own life. Had to be after his father’s death and his mother’s poor taste in men.
So something in him yearned to follow along with everything Harry asked him.
The man’s eyes were watching him with great scrutiny when they finally gained some space from each other.
“Because of what you witnessed here,” Harry gestures to the men who were barely starting to move around after their thorough trouncing. “I’m supposed to give you a touch of memory wipe.”
The man wiggles the wrist that holds a watch, and Eggsy immediately bristles, shoulders coming back up around his ears where they had finally relaxed.
He doesn’t like that he knows Harry sees it all, sees right through him.
“But considering what just happened, I would hate to remove these memories. As long as you swear not to tell a soul.” Eggsy tosses his most charming smirk to the gentleman.
“If there’s one thing I can do it's keep my mouth shut.” He winks and Harry can’t totally stifle the laughs that huffs from his lungs.
KMMKKMMKKMMKKMMK
Eggsy should have known this is how he would die.
Below the fists and kicks of his bastard stepdad.
He doesn’t even understand why Dean cares so much, what he thinks he could even do if Eggsy admitted what little he did know about Harry Hart.
Whatever words are streaming from his mouth do nothing but earn him harder hits, he’s never been very good at defending himself.
Eggsy considers allowing his head to hit the tile hard enough to pass out when the voice of an angel fills the room. An avenging angel who’s threats carry weight.
An angel who calls Eggsy to him, and Eggsy finds every last ounce of strength, and does what he does best. He runs.
He runs right to a tailor, to a street he’d never felt comfortable going near, into a shop that he’d likely be chased out of before today.
Instead, he’s greeted with a soft touch to his cheeks, and soft lips caressing his forehead.
Harry had been listening, had stepped in for Eggsy. The young man couldn’t understand why.
“While perhaps more complicated than before, I’ve approached you for a reason Eggsy,” Harry looks almost ashamed, but his tone is serious.
“You are loyal, smart, and have potential that is currently being wasted.”
“I think that I can help you unlock this potential,” the man’s hands are comfortingly warm braced on Eggsy’s shoulders. They make a shocking pair in the mirror of the changing room, like a father and his wayward son.
Harry wants to “My Fair Lady” him. Even as all the rest of the reveals about spies and secrets and being recruited, one thing sticks out to Eggsy.
He waits to finally say anything until the last moment, until they are about to disembark the strange underground train (Harry wouldn’t let him suck his cock again).
“Hey, Harry, don’t in all those stories, like My Fair Lady, the teacher ends up with the student in the end?” Eggsy makes sure to watch the older man closely, enjoying the slight blush that floods strong cheeks.
“Well, perhaps if you survive the selection process, we can consider it.” The gentleman’s hand on Eggsy’s shoulder is sure and guiding, pushing him into the new stage of his life.
“Don’t worry, Harry, I’m a good boy after all.”
Harry is still choking on his spit as they meet Merlin, and Eggsy’s competitiveness is alight in his belly. He had a chance to gain so much more than the rest of the ponces in the room beyond.