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Somewhere down the line, Eggsy realized that there was something different about him. The problem was that he couldn’t put a name to it.
He’d always known that he was attracted to women and men, that was the simple part. But, of course, he was never open about it especially deeper in his teenage years because of the fear of what Dean would do to him if he ever found out. Eggsy was sure he’d experience a sort of backlash that would earn him even more verbal and physical abuse than he was already being dealt. He just found it easier to keep quiet and date whoever he pleased, but to do so carefully and as far away from Dean and any area he and his single brain celled goons frequented.
The part that he couldn’t quite pinpoint was the fact that he never felt the need to move past the occasional kisses or cuddling that came with dating people. And that’s what usually resulted in the termination of each one of his relationships. He always claimed he wasn’t ready to have sex or was just nervous, but in reality, it was just the simple fact that he just didn’t want to. Eggsy just didn’t feel the dire need to. But he could never explain why that was.
And that was the strange part to him.
Once everyone started to hit that stage of random growth spurts and voice cracks, there also came along the sudden need for most to want to have sex with anyone willing thanks to a shift in hormone levels. But Eggsy never had found himself jumping on that particular bandwagon.
It just had never seemed necessary.
And soon, that started to terrify him.
The word that came to his head often was “broken” and it always was niggling in the back of his brain, taunting him that he was the odd one out. He thought that people were supposed to want sex and crave it often. At least that’s what media had taught him in any over PG rated film that he had watched growing up. So when his mates inevitably asked him if he had sex yet, as young, curious teenagers tend to do, he’d lie. He would tell tall tales about things that never actually happened and that would make him slightly sick to his stomach just thinking about, but they placated nosy minds so he continued to tell them no matter the discomfort it caused him.
It haunted him, this uncertainty and confusion, enough that he backed far away from long term relationships due to fear that they would all end the same- ended due to the fact that sex wasn’t in the near future. Somewhere within him, he knew that not everyone was the same and that sex wasn’t always the most important part of relationships, but that did nothing to curb the fear sweltering inside of him.
But the most unfortunate and positively terrifying thing for Eggsy was that he found himself questioning his vow to layoff serious relationships when he met one Harry Hart.
***
“So you’ve been acting strange.” Roxy unceremoniously plopped down on the couch beside Eggsy, pulling her legs up and bringing them closer to her chest. She stared at him, her head resting on her knees with a slight tilt. She was examining him closely, Eggsy knew. Goosebumps ran down his arms, making the hair on them stand up from her calculating look.
He couldn’t even imagine how terrifying being on the receiving end of one of her deadly mission “I’m going to skin you alive and throw your body into a field to be eaten by vultures” looks was like and he was certain he didn’t want to ever know.
Eggsy slouched deeper into Roxy’s sofa, pulling the warm blanket around his shoulders closer to his body. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Roxelot.”
They were having their weekly movie night, both having just come back from a particularly difficult mission that ended up being successful on all accounts. Merlin was pleased when they had walked through the door, not a scratch on them and all Kingsman equipment being returned in one piece; unlike Bors who always seemed to come back with one item oddly scorched even if the mission didn’t at all require fire or explosives. Merlin found it less stressful to just not ask anymore.
Roxy and Eggsy decided to reward themselves with a Disney marathon due to a job well done, complete with wine and greasy pizza, The Little Mermaid already popped into the DVD player. The light from the television cast a soft glow, the room warm unlike the terrible chill outside, the smell of cookies baking in the kitchen for dessert filling the living room. Eggsy had been cozy and off-guard so of course, that’s when Roxy had decided to strike.
She’d been trying to have this conversation with him for about two weeks now, but every time he’d found a way to worm himself far away from it. Some ways were more creative such as parkouring out of the third floor window at HQ and claiming that he was trying to keep himself on his toes while others were more childish such as spotting her walking down the hall and sprinting the other direction.
He questioned for a moment how he called himself a spy when he managed to get himself roped into this mini interrogation guised as a quiet night in. The promise of pizza and movies had blinded him in a moment of post-mission induced weakness, he decided.
“Yes you are.” Roxy wiggled her toes, her feet covered with ridiculous doughnut patterned socks that Eggsy had bought her months ago. “Are you and Harry alright?”
“Of course we are.” Eggsy answered far too quickly and urgently for Roxy not to notice, but he still prayed that she didn’t. The raised eyebrow she gave him told him otherwise. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.” Her dark eyes narrowed, searching for something on Eggsy’s face. He stared back, not wanting to waver, but was finding it difficult to. If Roxy wanted to be intimidating, she was more than capable. Every agent had quickly found that she was the best at interrogations, able to pull out information from any target in record time once she had them at her mercy in front of her. It was terrifying, to say the least, but also extremely impressive because no one could figure out exactly what her method was and she never conceded to tell.
But at this moment, Eggsy wished to be anywhere else so he didn’t have to endure the inevitable incoming conversation. The mission together had been the perfect pre-interrogation trap and he had fallen right into the palm of her hand, jumping in headfirst without a second thought because of the prospect of a Disney movies and food combination. He supposed it was luck catching up with him because of how long he had been avoiding this all. It was only a matter of time.
“Did he do something to you? Because you know that I have every intention to sticking to every threat in that talk I gave him once you two started dating. Even if he’s a senior agent, I have absolutely no qualms about taking that perfectly coiffed head of his and-”
“God, Roxelot, chill.” Eggsy cut her off, raising his hands to make her stop. He remembered listening in with Merlin when Roxy had gone into Harry’s office to have a chat with him. The threats were vivid and frightening enough to make any normal person start running the other direction so Eggsy had condoned Harry for only flinching once during the entirety of her speech.
Her face softened, her hand reaching out to lovingly rub Eggsy’s arm. “I’ve just noticed that you don’t spend as much time around him like you did just a few weeks ago. And when you are around him, you act really weird. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Eggsy looked at her, enjoying the grounding feeling of her warm hand on his arm. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. His head lolled backwards to rest against the back of the couch, the cream colored ceiling coming into full view. “You’re not allowed to judge me for what I’m going to tell you, okay?”
“Eggsy, you know I never would.” She sounded serious and Eggsy was grateful for that fact, giving him more courage.
“Harry hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s me.”
“What do you mean?” Roxy asked, confused.
A long stream of air left his lips, Eggsy contemplating his next words carefully. He had never talked openly about this to anyone and he didn’t even know where to start. “He wants to move forward in the relationship… sexually and I panicked.”
“Why did you panic?” She paused for a moment, her eyes widening a fraction, a dark veil momentarily passing over her face. “Is he pressuring you to have sex?”
“Oh my god, no. Of course not. I just… I just don’t feel that way about him.” Roxy reverted back to a less menacing look, placated. Eggsy paused, filtering his thoughts to get the perfect explanation. It felt oddly good to be saying these things out loud, the weight of the uncertainty lifting even just a fraction providing some relief. “I love him, god I love him so, so much, Rox. But I don’t feel anything more than that. Do you know what I mean?”
“Stay right here.” Roxy got up and shuffled out of the room and up the stairs, Eggsy left in complete bewilderment. Mild panic rose up in his chest that she had gone to possibly call someone and notify them of the things he was saying, a psychologist probably or maybe even Harry. Both options were absurd, he knew, but panic always has a peculiar way of warping thoughts.
A million things raced through his head, most of which were filled with regret that he even began telling her about the inner workings of his confused sexuality. He momentarily contemplated fleeing, the door only a few long strides away, but the idea was quickly squashed when Roxy reemerged. She held an open book in her hands as she descended down the stairs, her fingers deftly flicking through the pages.
Eggsy tracked her as she came around to the couch again and sat down, nose still in the book. She sat closer to him this time, body heat radiating off of her. The moment she sat down she seemed to find the page she was looking for, her fingers smacking it with a light thud. “Here it is.”
Roxy handed the book over to Eggsy and he accepted it, confused. He looked down at began reading the short section that Roxy pointed out to him, still wary.
It read: Asexuality: Asexuality defines individuals that do not experience sexual attraction. It is not a pledge of abstinence, not a disorder, not a choice, not the same as celibacy. It is quite simply the lack of sexual attraction. There is, like any other sexuality, a spectrum of asexuality. Some asexuals partake in sexual activities because they enjoy it, while others are sex repulsed and will not, while others are indifferent. Some individuals may also fall into the category of “gray asexuals”, meaning that they may experience sexual attraction rarely or are unsure of where they fall on the spectrum. Demi-sexuals, those who also fall into the asexual spectrum, only experience sexual attraction after forming a strong emotional bond. Asexuals, no matter where they are on the spectrum, can still experience and maintain healthy romantic relationships.*
Eggsy read over the passage a few times, Roxy looking down at the book with him and no doubt reading it multiple times herself. The cogs in his brain began turning, processing each ounce of information when suddenly something in his mind clicked.
Asexuality.
That made sense.
The word fit his feelings, his situation. It felt good to have a word to describe what it was that he couldn’t pinpoint and he felt nothing but relief.
“Asexuality.” He tested the word on his tongue, finding that saying out loud provided even more clarity. His heart felt lighter.
“I bought this book about three years ago.” She flipped a few pages forward and pointed Eggsy to another section. “It helped me figure out that I was aromantic. It means that I don’t experience romantic attraction.”
Eggsy nodded, reading the section to gain a better understanding. He hadn’t known that these kinds of things existed, the ignorance a blatant result of being brought up by a homophobic abuser that preached nothing but hate towards anyone unlike him.
“Didn’t know you were aromantic.”
“It never came up.” Roxy shrugged, obviously unbothered.
“Fair enough.”
Eggsy flipped through the rest of the book absently, the feel of the pages on his fingertips a strange comfort.
“Do you think that asexuality is a good way to describe how you feel?” She was being gentle, unsure of Eggsy’s complete reaction to any of this.
“Yes,” he breathed out, the words from the book still floating in his mind. He turned to her full on, his eye beginning to water. “I thought I was broken.” The tears threatened to spill over, the relief of finally confirming that there was nothing wrong with him evoking more emotion than he cared to display. He huffed out a wet laugh, rubbing at his eyes to rid of the budding tears.
Roxy smiled warmly, taking Eggsy’s hand and giving it a firm squeeze. “I did too. But you’re not. We’re not. There’s a lot of people like us. You just have to find them.”
A sudden twinge of panic filled Eggsy, reality setting in quickly and harshly like it always had a tendency to do. “What do I tell Harry?”
Roxy sensed his change in demeanor, firmly holding his hand harder to ground and comfort him. “The truth would probably be the best.”
“That’s kind of terrifying.” Of course Eggsy knew that he should tell Harry exactly what he felt and why it was he was so reluctant to move forward in their relationship. But that seemed to be easier said than done. Telling Roxy wasn’t the simplest task especially considering that he had gone great lengths to avoid her, but she was his best mate after all and she always came through for him. But telling Harry was going to be difficult in its own right. He dreaded the worst- of Harry confirming his own fears that he wasn’t a whole person, that he was sick and disgusting and that something was horribly wrong with him.
But on the same hand, Eggsy knew Harry. He knew that man was loving and understanding, more so than he initially thought, but that all could only go such a long way.
His eyes started to water for a different reason.
“I know it is, but I’m here for you no matter what. I can even help you figure out what to say, if need be.”
“What if he thinks I’m a freak?” Eggsy stared down at their intertwined fingers, subconsciously logging the differences of their hands- Roxy’s small, lean ones to his own bigger, longer ones, but how they still managed to fit together perfectly.
“Eggsy, look at me.” He complied reluctantly, looking at her with watery eyes, not longer trying to stop them from cascading down his pink-tinged cheeks. “He loves you more than anything in the world. He’s an open-minded person and he’ll understand, especially if you two communicate about this like adults and you don’t go on avoiding him.”
The mixture of relief and fear was a strange one, making his emotions run haywire. “I just wish I could be normal, Rox.”
“Who says you're not? Normality is relative, anyways. Social constructs and all that. There's nothing wrong with you.”
“He might think I'm a freak.” He said softly.
“And if he does, then I'll put one of my threats in action. Maybe the one with the coyotes, that one has always been my favorite.”
The comment caused an unexpected huff of a laugh from Eggsy, amused by Roxy’s over protectiveness. “I'm serious, Rox.”
“And so am I.” She smiled, unperturbed by Eggsy’s attempt to sound serious. “I've always wanted to use coyotes as a form of revenge.” She softened after a moment. “But seriously, Eggsy. Harry won't think you're a freak or broken or whatever other terrible thing you've come up with. What you're feeling is valid and I'm sure, more than anything, that Harry will understand.”
“Thank you, Rox.” Eggsy leaned forward suddenly, hugging Roxy tightly. She squeezed back, rubbing his shoulders. “You're the best mate anyone could ever ask for.”
“You're welcome, Eggsy. I'm here for you no matter what, you know that.” She leaned back against the couch, settling down comfortably once again into the well-lived in sofa. “Now how about that Disney marathon I promised?”
“Yes, Roxelot.”
Roxy hit play, the movie starting up and filling the room with music.
Eggsy tried to keep his mind entirely focused on the film, but his mind kept wavering, thinking about talking to Harry about all of this. It terrified him, just the idea of what Harry would say no matter how much Roxy reassured him. But there was only so much he could do in that moment so he sat back and attempted to watch the movie, Roxy beside him the constant, friendly warmth he was grateful to have.
***
Harry stood in his kitchen, snuggly tying his gray and white striped apron behind his back into a neat knot. Once satisfied, he moved over to his record player, quietly rummaging through old records with nothing specific in mind. His fingers hovered over the next one in the pile when there was a soft knock at his front door.
He went on guard immediately, not expecting guests- more specifically Eggsy- for another few hours. Being a Kingsman agent had quickly taught him to be on guard constantly, one part of his mind always processing his surroundings no matter how comfortable he was in them and his own home wasn’t an exception. In fact, one random knock in the middle of the afternoon could easily pan out to be his demise and Harry was not having that at all.
He crossed over to the pantry, clicking a hidden button that revealed a compartment for a pistol. He grabbed the gun, clicking the safety off and moved to the door, clicking on the new device beside it that Merlin had installed a few months after V-Day. The device was just a view screen of the camera that was placed outside the door so it could perfectly capture anyone standing at his doorstep. He clicked it on, his porch coming into view with Eggsy standing right there, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets and a crinkle between his brows.
Harry pulled open the door, glad it was just Eggsy rather than a potential assailant. “Oh hello, my dear. I wasn’t expecting you to be here so early.” He clicked the safety back on the gun, relaxing as much as a spy really can. “You usually text me before you come over.” He ushered Eggsy in, taking his coat and immediately noticing how reserved he was, barely making eye contact and his shoulders tense.
Harry had been slightly shocked that Eggsy had gone ahead and made plans for the two of them considering the fact that he had been acting strangely around Harry for the past few weeks. Harry had quickly picked up on it, but he had decided not to press the issue. If Eggsy wanted to talk to him about whatever it was that was bothering him, he would, and Harry didn’t doubt that. Something told him that that would probably be right now, if Eggsy’s demeanor was anything to go by.
“Right, sorry about that. I didn’t really think about it when I left my house.” He looked at Harry fully now, immediately noticing the apron. “I could go if you want and just come back at the time we decided.” Eggsy was already reaching for his coat, worry on his face. If Harry wasn’t mistaken, there was even a slight tremble to his hand.
“Oh don’t be silly, I’m glad that you’re here early. You can help me cook dinner.” He gently placed his hands over Eggsy’s, removing the coat from his grasp and hung it up. Just the mere passing touch seemed to mildly placate Eggsy from the nervousness obviously boiling inside of him, so Harry took his hand, rubbing his cold knuckles. Harry smiled warmly at him, pulling Eggsy’s hand up and placing a light kiss on it.
“Come along then, dear. The pasta isn’t just going to cook itself not matter how much I wish it would.” Harry, not letting go of Eggsy’s hand, started to walk them towards the kitchen when Eggsy stopped.
“Um, actually, Harry.” Harry turned, watching Eggsy intently as he stared down at his shoes, those atrocious winged sneakers. The nervousness was just about palatable in the hall they stood in, entwined hands in between their bodies. Eggsy breathed in deeply.
“I came here early because I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Ah, Harry thought to himself, so he had been right.
“Of course, but it’d rather be best and more comfortable if we did so not in the hallway. Perhaps the living room, if you’re privy to that?” Eggsy nodded, more willingly following Harry into the living room. The room was quiet, the light traffic down the short road from Harry’s front door not permeating through the walls. It wasn’t an eerie quiet, but rather one of a lived in, comfortable home where noise isn’t necessary to fill the rooms with life, the items and presence doing enough of that on their own.
Eggsy spent a lot of time here whenever he went over Harry’s. He usually sat tucked into the corner of the maroon couch, his legs draped over Harry’s lap while they both did their own work in silence, occasionally commenting about nothing in particular. Sometimes, they’d fall asleep there and wake up hours later in the middle of the night with their bodies warmly pressed together and the blanket they had been sharing finding its way to the floor with JB probably sound asleep on top of it. More often than not, they’d get up from that position, Eggsy gathering any dishes they had left out and placing them in the kitchen to be dealt with when they’re more coherent while Harry tidied the living room, folding blankets and puffing pillows. Then, they’d usually go upstairs and fall asleep in Harry’s bed, still pressed together comfortably and would stay the same until morning when the sun started to filter through Harry's curtains and warm the room.
Eggsy cherished those moments the most- the vulnerability, the love, the comfort, the domesticity. Fear spiked in him considerably when he realized that after this conversations, he may never get to experience those nights ever again.
He sat in his usual corner, Harry beside him with their hands in his lap. Harry’s hand was shockingly soft for a man that had years of field work experience, the only thing marring it being a small scar on his right thumb. Funny enough, at least Eggsy thought so, the scar came from an unfortunate cooking incident rather than field work. It was thin and white, stretching from the first knuckle down to his wrist. Eggsy tenderly traced it with his own thumb.
“So what is it that you wanted to talk about?”
Eggsy tensed, halting his movements, frozen by the question.
He supposed it would be better to just come out with it all before he panicked and ran the other direction- back to the safety of Roxy’s reassuring words or to the quiet of his flat or to the high pitched, happy giggles of Daisy and the loving chastising of his mother or perhaps to the constant, adrenaline pumping danger of HQ. It was tempting, to give into the need to avoid all of this, but he was here and he couldn’t go on pretending. Eggsy took a deep breath.
“Do you know what asexuality is?”
Harry furrowed his brows, the question not at all what he was expecting, but he recovered quickly enough. “I have a general idea, yes.”
“Okay, well, um, it’s just a lack of sexual attraction.” Eggsy shifted his gaze from their hands to Harry’s face, gauging his reaction, but cursed internally when all he was met with was careful blankness, revealing absolutely nothing.
“There’s like this entire spectrum, but that’s just the definition in simple terms, yeah?” Harry solely nodded, patiently waiting for Eggsy to continue. “And it’s not like people who are asexual can’t be in good relationships because they can and it’s not like some don’t actually have sex because some don’t mind it, you know? But there are some that do and others that don’t really care either way. And there’s this whole thing about demi-sexual people and gray asexual people that fall on the spectrum, too. Like demi-sexual people really only experience sexual attraction when they are emotionally attached to someone. And, of course, there’s this misconception that asexual people are just people practicing abstinence or are celibate, which isn’t true, those things aren’t synonymous, but- ”
Eggsy was rambling, he knew so he was grateful when Harry unclasped their hands in order to lightly place his own hand on Eggsy’s cheek to calm him. “Eggsy, please take a breath before you pass out.”
He complied, taking in a shaky breath and letting it out in one long stream. Eggsy didn’t doubt that he looked panicked, his words having just started to become disjointed and incoherent. The panic inside his was steadily rising, finding a place deep in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. He lifted his own hand, placing it on Harry’s cheek, the light stubble tickling his palm.
Cherishing this moment, the feel of Harry so close and so warm, was necessary to catalogue just in case Eggsy never got to experience any of this again. He still had a chance, he supposed, to backtrack and tell Harry to forget about it, but Eggsy knew that Harry was far too perceptive for him to just pretend the last few minutes hadn’t happened. It was likely he already had an idea of what Eggsy was struggling to say. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t let this go. He let his hand drop away from Harry’s face.
“I’m asexual, Harry.”
Eggsy braced himself for the onslaught of hateful, disgusted words, shutting his eyes and slouching away from Harry as if he was flinching away from an oncoming physical blow. He even half expected for Harry to just simply kick him out, but neither of those things happened.
Instead, Eggsy felt Harry brush away strands of ungelled hair from his forehead. The hand continued down his head and through his hair, stopping at the base of his neck where Harry’s fingers rubbed lightly at the short tufts there. The sensation sent tingles down Eggsy’s spine and through his body, causing him to look up and meet Harry’s gaze in confusion at the lack of backlash.
His face was soft, a small smile on his lips as he studied Eggsy’s face. “I was guessing that’s where you were going with that.” His voice was delicate, barely just above a whisper.
“This is not what I expected,” Eggsy said honestly, still at a loss.
“What did you expect, if you don’t mind me asking?” The fingers at the back of Eggsy’s neck continued moving.
“I thought you would think I was broken or crazy or you’d think I was disgusting and throw me out or something.” The red on Eggsy’s cheeks deepened, uncomfortable about admitting his fears.
Harry’s fingers paused for a moment, probably from shock, but they continued a second later. “I would hope you’d think more highly of me than that, but of course, I don’t blame you for being scared.” He was upset that Eggsy would feel distressed about telling him something so important, but he didn’t press. “How long have you known?”
“Honestly, I didn’t know what asexuality was until really recently. Didn’t know there was a word for how I’ve felt for a long time. Rox was the one that helped me because she has this book that’s really useful. Helped me realize that I wasn’t alone. I’ve always thought there was something wrong with me.”
“There isn’t.” It was a simple statement, but it didn’t stop Eggsy’s lips from turning up into a small smile. “I don’t think you’re broken, or strange, or anything of that sort. I’m just happy that you told me.”
“And you’re alright with this?” This was all too simple, Eggsy thought. He didn’t think anyone would be alright with the prospect of a relationship that was potentially sexless, Harry not being exempt. There had to be more. Nothing in Eggsy’s life had ever been uncomplicated and he didn’t believe for a second that this wouldn’t be. The panic swelled again, unrelenting.
“Of course I am. We just need to communicate more about what you’re comfortable with, but otherwise, I don’t see an issue with you being asexual. It’s just another part of who you are, like your tendency to wear gaudy outfits or your innate ability to work well with weaponry.” Harry’s fingers stopped playing with Eggsy’s hair, now instead buried in it, a warm weight on the back of his scalp that seemed to burn.
“And you still want to be with me?” Eggsy searched Harry’s face, looking for the smallest of clues that Harry was lying.
“Yes, undoubtedly so.” The crease between Harry’s brows deepened, puzzled at Eggsy’s insistence to question his motives. “I want to stay in this relationship because I deeply care for you. Your lack of sexual attraction towards me doesn’t bother me nor does the absence of sex in my romantic relationships.”
Eggsy stood abruptly, ripping himself away from Harry’s grasp, now pacing the carpeted area in front of the couch, hands curled into tight fists. “You say all of this now, Harry, but what if you get bored of me? I’m not saying that it’ll happen tomorrow or the next day, but what about a month from now? Six months? A year? You’ll probably realize that I’m not worth enough and you’ll leave just because I can’t satisfy you and I doubt that I could even blame you for leaving if you did.”
“Eggsy, my boy, please stop.” Eggsy hadn’t even noticed that Harry had stood in the midst of his rant, too preoccupied by his own racing thoughts. He stopped, now realizing that Harry was gently holding his shoulders and staring down at him with so much love that it made Eggsy’s heart want to burst out of his chest. It also made him want to turn around and run out the door to somewhere far, far away.
“I can’t promise that this relationship will last forever.” Harry started, the words piercing through Eggsy’s chest. They caused him to start to back up, but Harry’s minutely tightened the hold on his shoulders, a silent request to stay in place and just wait for a moment, so he did.
“I don’t think you can promise that with any relationship no matter how much people want said relationship to last. It’s just not plausible.” Harry looked full of regret. Eggsy’s heart sank. “But what I can say, right now, is that I love you more than anything and that I want to stay in this relationship for as long as you’ll have me. I don’t care if we never have sex- that’s not the most important part of any of this. What matters is that we communicate with one another, that we spend time together, that we are honest, and that we love each other.”
Harry smiled, moving his hands to grasp Eggsy’s, bringing them to his lips to leave feather light kisses. Eggsy watched him, a burst of warmth spreading throughout his body as Harry looked at him from underneath his eyelashes with unadulterated love and admiration.
“And would you look at that? We’re already there.”
Hot tears began to run down Eggsy’s face, subdued sniffles involuntarily escaping his mouth. Through them, he laughed- a single laugh, but one that was relieved. It was a weight lifting laugh that chipped away at the terrible heaviness in his chest.
Somehow, someway, he knew that things would be alright.
Harry took Eggsy’s face between his hands and leaned forward, sweetly kissing his forehead and wiping away tears. “I love you so much, my dear boy.”
“I love you too, Harry.”