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1. Bullet Train
For the record, this ain’t his idea.
And Eggsy is kind of pissed off that he didn’t think of it first. Not that he can really concentrate on it since Merlin is pounding into him like sex is going out of style. However, if they happen to get caught, the blame will fall solely on Merlin since he’s the oldest and more responsible party and all.
Because fuck if Eggsy is taking the heat for this.
His trousers are somewhere between his thighs and ankles, hastily pushed down when Merlin pounced him without a single word as soon as the doors closed. Absolutely no warning as he pulled Eggsy forward by the lapels of his suit jacket and shoved his tongue into his mouth until the edges of his vision began to darken.
Never mind that he has a debriefing with Arthur or that his appearance will be a cross between rumpled and I just got fucked on the secret train running under London. Merlin’s burying his fingers in his hair and undoing all Eggsy’s diligent styling in a matter of seconds. He’s not about to complain; the slight bite to his scalp along with the drag of Merlin’s cock against his prostate has Eggsy only capable of moaning.
Yeah, he likes it when it’s rough. The kind of sex that leaves his brain short-circuiting after an explosive orgasm. A fuck that Eggsy will feel for a good day or two, leaving behind a pleasant burn in his step. The type of thing he never thought existed outside of pornos or his dreams.
So what if they haven’t seen each other for over two weeks (also not Eggsy’s fault; he doesn’t dole out the assignments, thank you very much)? He and Merlin are only human, plus it’s abundantly clear that running missions or Eggsy’s case, foiling a terrorist cell’s plan to blow up Tel Aviv hasn’t given either of them enough time for a wank.
It’s just that…well, he expected Merlin to have a bit more control. Or at the very least, say hello and have a conversation before...well, you know.
So yeah, they haven’t seen each other for two and a half weeks and it’s abundantly clear that Merlin hasn’t wanked in that time (again; not Eggsy’s fault).
Not that Eggsy wants to think of the alternative in which Merlin missed him as much as he missed Merlin. Honestly, he can’t really concentrate on anything else but the Scotsman’s cock in his arse and how the angle of his thrusts has now changed, resulting in Eggsy’s prostate being stabbed with every movement.
Besides, Eggsy knows the score: this thing between him and Merlin is just sex.
“Fuck,” he curses following a particularly cruel jab and another. Behind his closed eyelids, Eggsy sees his own personal light show of phosphine flashes. “Merlin, harder…wanna feel you!”
Large hands curl around his chin and tilt his head back until Merlin’s hot breath drifts over his skin. “Aye, you’ll feel me, lad,” he grunts into his ear. The tip of his tongue brushes the very edge of Eggsy’s lobe and sends a shiver down his spine. “I’m going to make sure you’re limping well into your next assignment, you ridiculous tart.”
“Jesus,” Eggsy groans as his eyes flutter shut. His bottom lip drags over Merlin’s fingertips, allowing a speck of salty skin to seep into his tongue. It blooms within, filling him with the urge to taste more. “Keep talkin’ like that, bruv…you’re so fuckin’ fit! And your cock…”
He can’t help himself when he sucks Merlin’s fingers into the wet heat of his mouth. If they had all the time in the world, Eggsy would spend an entire day just worshipping his lover with lips, teeth, and tongue until all he was aware of is Merlin on his palate, in his bones, and every waking thought, even in his dreams.
Merlin hisses as the sharp edge of Eggsy’s teeth makes contact with his skin. “You can’t seem to keep quiet unless you’re sucking on one of my appendages, hm?” He presses down on the spongy tissue, chuckling darkly as Eggsy moans. “Just what I thought. So greedy, you are.”
He’s been called worse.
Eggsy takes his fingers in deeper, licking and sucking. In his delirium, he thinks of how Merlin takes and pushes and gives until Eggsy can’t handle anymore. It’s how they’ve always been, even in the beginning when he was just a candidate and Merlin was his taskmaster.
And not like the Marines neither where they tried to break Eggsy and rebuild him while Kingsman had taken what he was and perfected it.
“You have no idea,” Merlin rasps, “how gorgeous you look.” His voice breaks upon the last syllable—the only thing that tells Eggsy that his lover is close. “Filled up at both ends and loving every second of it.”
Paired with those words and the thick cock in his arse, Eggsy’s ruin comes faster than either man anticipates. He takes himself in hand, stroking until semen pulses over his fist and the seat below. Everything becomes sensation: his orgasm sweeping him away, his body clenching tightly around Merlin’s length, his lover’s ragged breathing in his ear.
Eggsy releases a soft groan as his hand falls away from his softening cock and submits to his post-coital fog. Absently, he’s glad Merlin is holding him up because he’s certain he would not be able to stand if it were otherwise. He sinks into the strong body behind him as the fingers in his mouth are withdrawn and come to rest on his shoulder.
Merlin’s thrusts are becoming faster, sharper and he’s become unwontedly quiet; the filthy commentary Eggsy enjoys so much is gone and will soon be replaced with a symphony of the Scotsman chanting his name.
The first of his lover’s moans ring in his ear; a symphony of hot, throaty sounds as they always are and never less exciting. Merlin’s hand slips from his shoulder and soon the sting of fingernails burns from his hip.
“Eggsy,” Merlin breathes all sexy and fucked out in his brogue. “Fuck, you feel so good, lad. Always so tight and ready for me…” Fingers pull at his hair and bend his head back, exposing his neck to the open air. “All mine. All…fuck!”
As the train car comes to a halt, his arse is flooded with the warmth of Merlin’s spill. Panic spikes through him as Eggsy waits for the doors to spring open. When no such thing happens, he realizes that Merlin—the cheeky, brilliant bastard—probably overrode the system prior to their encounter.
Which means…
“You’re going to be late,” Merlin mentions with an eerie sense of timing. The press of his body is gone, leaving behind fading heat and that annoying emptiness Eggsy has been feeling as of recently.
That wanting more than Merlin can give him.
Glancing over his shoulder, he finds his lover looking delightfully rumpled. He is tucking himself back into his trousers and buttoning them when he realizes he’s being watched. Merlin’s eyes lift over the rim of his a skewed glasses, offering a grin from his kiss-swollen lips.
“No thanks to you, bruv,” Eggsy retorts. He tries to maintain an air of dignity despite having his trousers down by his ankles and Merlin’s semen smeared between his arse cheeks. “You got anythin’…”
“Yes, right,” the Scotsman says. He digs into a pocket, producing a Kingsman handkerchief and goes to kneel behind Eggsy. “Can’t have you going to Arthur looking like a proper mess,” Merlin adds as he parts the young man’s bum.
He shivers at the first swipe of fabric against his arsehole. “I can do this myself, you know,” Eggsy tells him.
“I have no doubt,” Merlin replies with a chuckle, continuing to clean up the remnants of his release.
“Oh, so you’s just admirin’ your handiwork then?” He snorts, rolling his eyes as he keeps himself braced against the seat. “Pompous arsehole. Like knowin’ you’re the only one who gets to see me like this.”
Merlin stops laughing and for a fearful moment, Eggsy wonders if he’s crossed the line. While he hasn’t bothered pulling with other birds and blokes, the same could not be said for the other man.
“Am I?” he asks, running his fingers over one of Eggsy’s cheeks.
He ducks his face so Merlin can’t see the blush brightening his skin. “Egotistical twat,” he counters with more nerve than he feels. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Eggsy turns back to face him, noting the way his eyes have darkened even though they are no longer dilated with lust. There’s something about how Merlin is looking at him as if…
…as if he wants this to be more as well.
“Perhaps another time,” is the answer he gets, followed by the sting of being slapped on his arse cheek. Merlin corners him, using the opportunity to do up his trousers and tuck in his shirt while Eggsy breathes heavily. “And there will be another time, lad.”
“Promises, promises,” Eggsy croaks.
The doors slide open, revealing the empty corridor that leads to the mansion proper. Merlin has a secretive smile on his face now.
“Which I intend to keep,” he says like it’s that type of movie.
2. Tkachev Salto
So what if he accidentally on purpose planned to show off his training as a gymnast when Merlin was walking by?
That’s really between his libido and himself, yeah? Besides, it’s not like Merlin don’t know about Eggsy’s years on the competitive circuit; it’s in his personnel file, after all. Ain’t his problem if the bloke didn’t bother to take a look—which, by the way, Eggsy is certain he did and then forgot because Merlin is a rude wanker like that.
So that poorly-concealed look on his face when Eggsy executes a perfect Tkachev Salto on the high bars ain’t his fault at all. Merlin should have known who he was sleeping with. But dammit if he doesn’t look so fucking fit standing there caught between amazement and pure want.
Eggsy walks over to the bench where he’s put his water bottle and towel, breezing past the Scotsman like he does this shit every day. “You could catch flies with that gob,” he comments, only smiling when he’s certain that no one is watching.
That being said, he’s not surprised when Merlin seeks him out several hours later.
If Eggsy didn’t know better (pro tip: he does), he would think that Merlin was cross given the way he’s scowling. The thing is, the chap is fairly easy to read. Especially when you’ve been fucking him for nearly six months and know the way he’s currently furrowing his brows…well, it ain’t anger.
“What are you playing at?” Merlin snarls when he’s within the appropriate distance of cornering Eggsy against a strip of wall. He is using his full height to tower over him, giving the Scotsman an air of dominance.
Except it ain’t working because Eggsy can’t seem to wipe the cheeky smirk off his face. “Dunno what you mean, bruv.”
“Bullshite,” he retorts. “You know exactly what I mean, Galahad! What the fuck was that in the gym?”
Eggsy shrugs like he’s clueless. “Gotta be more specific, Merlin,” he says oh so sweetly whilst batting his eyelashes.
“That tawdry display on the high bars,” Merlin deadpans.
“Oh, that,” Eggsy sighs. He reaches for the other man’s shoulder and pretends to flick off a bit of dust from his jumper. “Tkachev Salto.”
Merlin’s anger gives way to confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
“What I was doin’ on the high bars,” he says innocently. Eggsy makes sure to gaze up at Merlin from behind his lashes because it drives Merlin absolutely arse over tits mad. “Tkachev Salto. Don’t you know anythin’ ’bout gymnastics?”
A knuckle drifts to the exposed portion of his collarbone, tracing a straight line up towards his neck. Merlin is leaning closer now, his lips within centimeters of kissing the spot on Eggsy’s jaw that makes him whine. “Now why would I know anything about that?”
“Ain’t it your business to know lots of things?” Eggsy questions as he closes his eyes.
Merlin makes a sound that could be construed as agreement or not; it don’t matter now because he’s nibbling on Eggsy’s jaw and using his other hand to pull down the zipper of his pullover. “Never knew you could bend like that.”
“Never asked,” he counters, his voice rising an octave as teeth scrape his skin because fuck, Merlin knows what gets him going.
In all honesty, it doesn’t take much when Merlin is involved.
“What else have you been hiding from me, lad?”
His lips curl into a devious smile as he opens his eyes and gazes up at his lover. “Wanna find out?” Eggsy asks as he grabs the front of Merlin’s jumper.
They end up in a seldom-used conference room. Eggsy’s track pants are laying on the ground next to the locked door and fuck if he knows where the rest of his clothes are. What matters is that he’s on the receiving end of a spectacular blowjob with two fingers shoved up his arse. He glances down the plane of his stomach, where between his thighs, Merlin’s bobbing up and down his cock. As Eggsy tilts his head back to moan, he realizes that the soddening bastard is still wearing his jumper despite having his legs draped over Merlin’s shoulders.
“Oh fuck,” he whines as the underside of his cockhead is teased by his lover’s tongue. Eggsy presses his palms into the glossy wood behind him, wishing he had something more sufficient to hold onto. “Merlin, fuck! You’s gonna make me cum before you’re even in me.”
A pair of hazel eyes flickers up to his face, clearly indicating that this is the point. A point which Merlin makes when his fingers brutally attack Eggsy’s prostate just as he applies more suction.
He ain’t even mad when he shoots his load down the Scotsman’s throat, biting back a moan because there’s no telling who might hear them. Just as Eggsy is recovering, he is being folded in half on top of the table and Merlin’s length is pushing into him.
Eggsy savors the glorious burn of being filled, even if it steals his breath and sends sparks of pleasure-pain down his spine when Merlin makes contact with his prostate.
“Refractory period, bruv!” he hisses into his lover’s ear. “Fuckin’ wanker!”
“Shh,” Merlin whispers hoarsely. “Don’t want anyone to hear us.”
He’s about to retort when Eggsy feels the press of lips against his mouth, taking away any sense. Merlin has a way of making him shut the fuck up, whether it be with his mouth, his cock, or some other part of his beautiful body.
Eggsy can’t even bring himself to complain about how each slow, deep thrust manages to strike his overstimulated prostate. It hurts so fucking good and if they weren’t in danger of being caught, he would be screaming his head off. He digs his fingers into the meat of Merlin’s shoulders, dragging him closer to suppress the sounds of his pleasure.
God, when did he become this bloke? Un-fucking-done by a single person? Well, it don’t matter as Eggsy’s second orgasm comes on the heels of Merlin’s first; he ain’t never gassed no one.
And he sure as hell won’t do it to himself.
3. Date Night
Leave it to them to have a traditional first date; dinner and a film at the cinema.
No one interrupts the night with a call about a terrorist organization trying to vie for world domination or save a foreign diplomat from kidnappers. Neither of them has to lie about their profession (or even speaking about work), nor is the conversation awkward as conversations happen to be in scenarios like this.
It’s all very normal and easy to slip into a relationship with Merlin, Eggsy muses later on when they’re snogging outside the former’s bedroom door. He doesn’t quite remember how they got to this point, having lost all sense of time from the moment Merlin kissed him mid-sentence.
One moment Eggsy is rambling about the film’s plot and the next, there is a welcomed pressure upon his lips. Like Merlin is taking that moment to test these new waters between them. Eggsy opens his mouth, moaning at the first swipe of tongue against his own and bringing his hands to rest upon the other man’s hips. He holds onto them as the kiss grows deeper and one of Merlin’s hands cups the back of his head, threading his fingers through Eggsy’s hair.
Now he’s pressed up against the door frame and caressing the skin under his boyfriend’s shirt. Eggsy groans into Merlin’s mouth and pulls him closer. If he could climb into the Scotsman and melt their bodies into one, he would. Except this ain’t some science fiction rom-com and Eggsy still has plaster on one hand.
It doesn’t stop his cock from filling inside of his denim trousers and he wants more.
“Eggsy,” Merlin whispers against his lips, breaking them apart to mouth his way down his neck. There he sucks and razes his teeth over the sensitive skin, causing Eggsy’s knees to turn to jelly. “We should probably move this elsewhere.”
He makes a sound of agreement. “Probably.”
“Probably should take this off as well,” Merlin adds, motioning to the hem of his shirt.
Eggsy’s reaction is automatic as he raises his arms in the arm, breathing heavily as the act of undressing begins. Honestly, he’s feeling rather nervy since this is the first time they’re having sex as a couple. He’s crossing into unfamiliar territory and Eggsy is deathly afraid of fucking it up because it’s Merlin. He ain’t never loved anyone outside of his mum, Daisy, and JB. Now here he is, standing in front of a bloke that he is arse over tits for and it’s not like there’s a manual on relationships, yeah?
“Are you alright?” Merlin asks and it’s then Eggsy realizes he is standing there with his arms in the air like some amateur. “Eggsy?”
Blinking, he nods. “Yeah. Just fine and dandy.”
“You look nervous,” the other man comments. In the poor lighting, one of his brows is most definitely raised in curiosity as he puts space between them.
Eggsy shakes his head, reaching out to him with his broken hand. “Nervous? Why would I be nervous? We’ve fucked before. Have seen you naked loads of time by now.”
“Well, yes,” Merlin says, considering. “But there’s something else bothering you.” He scowls as soon as Eggsy opens his mouth to counter this. “I know you better than you think I do, a ghràidh.”
There is a familiar feeling of wanting to argue bubbling in his throat—the way to keep his heart from being broken and to avoid letting others in. He’s already been in various states of vulnerability when Merlin’s around, especially with his most recent mission gone to shit.
Eggsy doesn’t remember most of it, though thanks to Roxy, he’s kind of glad he missed the part where Merlin carried him to safety.
It’s neither here nor there; he’s standing half naked in front of his boyfriend and the bloke knows something’s up.
“I haven’t done this before,” he admits.
“Done what exactly?” Merlin gently presses. “Been on a date before?”
Eggsy’s eye widens because, while he’s a relationship amateur, he’s been on a date. “What? No! I’ve been on a date, bruv.” He frowns, feeling a bit put out. “Really? You thought you were my first date like this is a John Hughes film or summat? What the fuck, Merlin?”
“You weren’t specific in what you meant by haven’t done this before,” Merlin says in his defense, holding up his hands.
Pouting, he leans back against the door frame and crosses his arms over his chest. “A relationship,” he mumbles while looking down at the floor.
“A what?” the other man replies. Merlin’s hand lifts his chin. “Didn’t catch that.”
“A relationship,” Eggsy repeats. He waits while this bit of information sinks in; it makes his skin itch uncomfortably to be standing there in complete silence. “Been on dates; shagged some birds and blokes. Even liked a few of them.” He wants to disappear into the ground because this is fucking embarrassing; he’s having verbal diarrhea while Merlin just stares at him. “Just nothin’ lasted beyond a few weeks, yeah? Wasn’t like they could bring me home to mum and dad.”
Merlin runs his thumb over Eggsy’s chin. “Well, their loss is my gain,” he tells him, offering a comforting smile.
“You say that now…”
The older man hushes him with a fond look, pulling Eggsy into his arms and bestowing a kiss upon his brow. “I’ll always say that,” he argues. “A ghràidh, they never knew what they had.”
“Or you’re just mental.”
“That makes two of us,” Merlin replies with a trill of amusement.
Another moment passes, lessening the tension crackling in the air. Eggsy sighs as Merlin’s heart thumps against his ear—that steady beat reminding him that this man is not like the others who discarded him. It will take a lot more than not being in a functioning, adult relationship for Merlin to leave if he ever does. “Feeling better now?” he asks while running his fingers through Eggsy’s hair.
He nods. “Yeah,” he replies, taking a step back to get a better view of Merlin. He thumbs the edges of the other man’s shirt. “Perhaps you should take this off,” Eggsy adds with a suggestive wag of his brows.
“Perhaps,” Merlin says as he obliges him. He makes a show of it, removing the article of clothing slowly and gracefully. It falls from his fingers and onto the floor, landing with no more than a whisper.
Like that Eggsy’s nerve is back and he is pulling Merlin into the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. The backs of his knees make contact with the edge of the mattress, using the opportunity to fall upon the bed and take the older man with him. The warm weight of Merlin presses against him—of muscle, skin, and calloused fingertips. Eggsy hooks a leg over his hip, pulling the Scotsman closer as they snog.
He could kiss Merlin until the end of time, swear down. There ain’t nothing better than the feeling of his lips against Eggsy’s or his tongue pillaging the inside of his mouth.
It seems Merlin has other ideas; he breaks the kiss to mouth his way down Eggsy’s body until he reaches the lad’s nipples. The sound Eggsy emits when wet heat closes around a hardened nub is something he didn’t realize he could make.
“Merlin,” he groans, closing his eyes as the sensation intensifies. He arches into his boyfriend’s mouth, feeling as if he will spontaneously combust as Merlin works his nipple into a hard peak before doing the same to its twin.
The way his lover manipulates Eggsy’s body is something else; like that wicked mouth was made to take him apart. When he can’t stand it any longer, he pulls Merlin back up and captures his mouth with his own. His hands are cupping one of the older man’s arse cheeks, squeezing it until the action dislodges a heady moan.
Soon they are naked, having chucked underwear and their socks off the bed, and Merlin is slotted between Eggsy’s thighs with slick fingers. He’s staring him down like a feral animal and fuck, fuck, fuck it’s hot.
As Merlin works Eggsy open, they kiss and swallow down each other’s moans of anticipation as one finger becomes two and so on. He’s glad that they have all the time in the world—it’s just them in the privacy of Merlin’s bedroom and there’s no one to hear Eggsy’s cry as Merlin slides into him with a single, perfect thrust.
They watch each other but not in one of those silhouette love scenes he’s seen on the telly where there’s crap music playing in the background. Nah, Eggsy’s eyes on Merlin and vice versa—observing, savoring, and enjoying. He’s got his legs hooked under his boyfriend’s arse, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster.
“Make me feel it, babe,” Eggsy begs him. “Wanna know you’re mine.”
Strong hands pull him closer, shifting his hips upward and changing their angle. Eggsy curses until his vocabulary goes out his head and gives way to utterly incoherent moaning. Everything he’s feeling—Merlin’s skin brushing against his own, his body clenching down on the cock inside of him, their sloppy kisses—it’s the first time Eggsy’s made love to someone. He’s opened himself up and let this maddening, wonderful man into his life just as Merlin has done the same for him.
He cums to Merlin’s hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking him in the way he likes it best and murmuring words of encouragement into his ear.
“That’s it, Eggsy,” he says. His voice is rough, gravelly even. Like Merlin has screamed himself hoarse without Eggsy noticing. “I want to hear you. Tell me how good I make you feel, sweet boy. Want to feel you cum on my cock.”
Shit, it’s so filthy and romantic for someone who doesn’t do the whole flowers and sweets thing. Eggsy holds onto Merlin’s shoulders as his climax spurts between their bodies, uncaring if he’s too loud for the neighbors or leaving fingernail marks on Merlin’s skin.
He’s lost control of his own body; there ain’t nothing else he can think about except this very moment and the sound of his boyfriend whispering, “I love you” before joining him in their free fall for two.
4. Fitting Room
“Bloody hell!” Eggsy manages to say when Merlin steps out of the fitting room.
His boyfriend—because they’re boyfriends now—pointedly ignores him as Bors finishes brushing off his shoulders. He’s wearing a single-breasted suit of midnight blue rather than his usual jumper and trousers. Not that Merlin doesn’t ordinarily look fit, it’s just that…he’s in a suit.
A suit that hugs every centimeter of his long, trim body and makes his skin glow despite the overcast day coming through the windows. Even his eyes are fucking electric; a show of different shades of green with an ink blot of brown near the pupil that bleeds into the iris.
“Perhaps a pocket square?” Bors offers while Merlin straightens the cuffs of his white button down.
His boyfriend wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Is that really necessary?” Merlin is absolutely hating having to be fitted for a suit by virtue of being the only Kingsman with an extensive knowledge of computerized Nano chips or some shit that literally no one knows anything about. He’s posing as an engineer attending a gala with Eggsy being his lap dog and PYT because he sure as fuck ain’t missing this for anything.
“What are you gaping at?” Merlin grumbles. He is staring at Eggsy through the mirror with his brows are wrinkled together in a frown.
He shrugs, grinning happily as he relaxes on the chaise lounge. “Nothin’. Just admirin’ my chap; not every day he’s all done up.”
“Are you saying there’s something wrong with how I look on other days?” Merlin inquiries, raising a brow.
Eggsy makes an incoherent sound with his throat and gets to his feet. “Please,” he says. He’s within reaching distance and goes for Merlin’s hips. Eggsy is careful about not wrinkling the fabric as he walks him back into the fitting room. “Babe, you’re so bloody gorgeous that it makes me wonder what you see in me.” There he gives his boyfriend a playful shove and locks the door behind them.
“Perhaps you should consider looking in the mirror,” Merlin counters.
He shrugs like the cheek he is and grins. “I’m a fit bloke, I know,” Eggsy teases while sauntering over to the other man. The way Merlin watches his movements reminds him of the days when he was just a recruit, always under a microscope and intense pressure to rise to the top. “Didn’t ya notice before, bruv? Surely you spied on us in the dormitories, you sodden perv!” Eggsy exclaims as he sinks to his knees.
To better examine the mechanics of the zipper, of course.
“Believe it or not, I am able to keep my perversions hidden,” Merlin replies. His lips are curving into the barest hint of a smile. “Unlike someone I know.”
Eggsy scoffs. “Please! You love it, Hamish,” he fires back as he leans forward to nose the crotch of his boyfriend’s trousers. A hint of his cologne and natural musk clings to the fabric, intoxicating the young man and causing his mouth to water.
If there’s one thing to be said about Eggsy, it’s that he loves having Merlin’s cock in his mouth. He loves the taste of it on his tongue, the feel of it in his mouth, the way it seems to provoke every ounce of lust from his body. Even when Merlin is changing his clothes or coming from the shower, just seeing it bouncing between his thighs…
…well, it gives Eggsy ideas.
“Hmm,” Merlin hums in agreement. “This is true.” His fingers card through Eggsy’s hair and twirl themselves with several strands. “One of the many things that ail me so.”
He glances up, sparing Merlin a frown. “Oi! That’s not a nice thing to say to someone who’s ’bout to have your cock in their mouth,” Eggsy chides. He turns his attention back to the zipper and all its metallic glimmer. He decides to move closer, blowing damp air onto the tag. “Besides…haven’t you ever wanted to fuck in one of ’em fittin’ rooms?”
“It’s never crossed my mind.”
“Liar,” Eggsy tells him. In the moment that his reply leaves his mouth, he catches the zipper tag between his teeth and pulls it down, hearing it part as Merlin grunts.
He expects some sort of retort or chastising because they could very likely get caught. On second thought, Bors is a smart bloke and probably knows that a closed door means do not enter unless he wants to see very not work-safe things.
With a greedy hand, Eggsy reaches inside of Merlin’s trousers and underwear to find his cock already hardening and the warm weight of him against his palm. It welcomes him to debauch the Scotsman. To make him bite his lower lip to keep his moans quiet, to thread his fingers through Eggsy’s hair, to tug and pull when he’s close, to fill his mouth with the taste of him.
Eggsy is a fan of cock, that much is true, but fuck if he ain’t mad over his boyfriend’s. As he guides it out of the confines of Merlin’s trousers, he takes a moment to appreciate the sight—the proud, red, thick tip of him blossoming from foreskin, the shine caused by pearly drops of precum, the natural smell of him that wafts to the lad’s nostrils. “Too bad none of ’em poets didn’t pen any sonnets ’bout this,” he comments. He catches salty fluid on the tip of his tongue, moaning wantonly like it’s the best thing he’s ever had. “Fuckin’ gorgeous this prick is, let me tell you.”
Merlin shudders. “I’m sure Wilde could have if we had existed at the same time.”
“Pfft! Wilde,” Eggsy states before using his tongue to swirl around the other man’s cockhead, slicking it with his saliva. He comes off it with a pop once the taste of Merlin’s precum is gone. “I’d never let ’im near you, babe.”
Licking a stripe up Merlin’s cock, he swallows him down to take as much of him as Eggsy can. Above him, Merlin curses in Gaelic as he buries his hands into the lad’s hair. He has a vague inclination to what the other man is saying, though Eggsy is far too busy bobbing up and down his cock.
He takes him to the back of his throat, and then slowly slides it out while running his tongue over the underside of Merlin’s length. Eggsy grazes his teeth over the flare of his boyfriend’s cockhead before doing it all over again.
“Fuck,” the Scotsman breathes.
The fact that he’s still coherent needs to remedied immediately. Eggsy wants Merlin glassy-eyed, flush-cheeked, and fucking wrecked. He wants everyone in the tailor shop to know who this gorgeous specimen belongs to, and it ain’t Kingsman.
He wants to be the perfect picture of sex on two legs as he kneels between Merlin’s legs, mouth stuffed full of cock. Eggsy takes the Scotsman in deeper, engulfing the harden length within the hot cavity of his mouth. Whatever he can’t get that’s why he as hands; he strokes Merlin in time to swirl of his tongue and suction of his mouth.
A whimper falls from the other man’s lips. Eggsy senses the hint of his hands trembling against his scalp as he uses his teeth again, something he learned during a hurried encounter in Merlin’s lair.
It results in a shudder and Merlin choking out his name.
Now, Eggsy realizes he could do this slowly and torture his boyfriend until Bors is banging on the door and his own jaw is aching. Or…
“Wha—,” Merlin stutters as Eggsy pulls off him. Bless him, he looks so fucking confused. “What are you doing?”
He keeps jacking the other man’s cock. “I want you to fuck my face,” Eggsy announces, flicking his wrist over the head and earning a groan from his boyfriend. “Want you to make my jaw ache. Want you to do it all proper, make me look like a mess.”
“Jesus,” his lover gasps.
“Fuckin’ do it, babe,” Eggsy babbles as he goes to put his mouth back on him. “Make me gag on you, want my throat to be sore when you’re done…” He’s cut off by the sharp movements of Merlin’s hips and his dick pushing into his mouth. Eggsy moans loudly, taking all of what’s offered to him as the pulsing length begins to find a rhythm.
Merlin fucks his mouth hard and fast like he’s fucking Eggsy’s arsehole. As if they’re seconds from being caught by the enemy and it may as well be the last blowjob Eggsy gives and Merlin receives. It don’t matter if his scalp and throat will be sore or that his jaw is one good thrust away from possibly being dislocated; if it means that Eggsy gets to see his boyfriend lose control, all the better. He wants the mess, the ruin, and everything that comes with Merlin flying off the hinges.
“A ghràidh,” Eggsy hears his boyfriend intoning before a particularly brutal thrust that makes his eyes water and leaves him gagging.
The saltiness of Merlin fills his mouth, surging forward and retreading in time with the shudder of his body. He’s hunched over Eggsy now, unable to support his own weight as he pants his way through orgasm.
Eggsy gets pushed away as suddenly as Merlin’s climax came and finds himself on his arse while the other man is leaning against the wall of the fitting room. He’s the very picture Eggsy hoped for—all fucked out and dazed in his suit with his cock slick with his saliva.
“Stand up and open your trousers,” Merlin orders. He resembles a predator as he stares Eggsy down, watching as the lad follows directions.
The moment he’s on his feet, Eggsy is turned around and shoved into the mirror while Merlin crowds behind him. With trembling hands he undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, shoving them down around with his boxer briefs. There’s a wet spot on the material of his underwear from the constant dribble of precum from his cock and honestly, Eggsy would be fine if Merlin’s reciprocation waited until later.
“I want to watch you bring yourself off,” the Scotsman snarls into his ear. Through the mirror, Eggsy stares at their reflections as Merlin nibs his nape.
He looks like a proper mess; red, swollen lips and glassy eyes set above tear-stained cheeks. Eggsy’s hair is a chaotic mess of light brown, thoroughly grabbed and pulled by Merlin’s fingers. “Fuck me,” he whines as he fists his cock, beginning at his slick cockhead to lubricate the way. “Merlin!”
Eggsy startles at the pressure of a hand covering his mouth. “Such an exhibitionist,” his boyfriend says, grinning darkly just before he sinks his teeth into the tender neck of Eggsy’s neck. When the lad moans against his palm, Merlin chuckles. “And always so vocal; can never keep you quiet, can I? Do it faster, Galahad. Want to see you desperate.”
He barely lasts through the next stroke before Eggsy is cumming on his fingers and against the glass panel of the mirror.
5. Weekend Getaway
The cottage is two-story affair owned by Merlin’s family, located in very close proximity to the cliffs.
Not that the scenic cliffs are the main reason why they’re there. They’ve been a couple for several months and never had a proper holiday, which Eggsy has never been on but that’s beside the point. A phone call is placed to Merlin’s parents, Chunnel tickets get purchased, and time off is requested.
When he finds out they are going to France rather than Scotland—the obvious choice in his opinion—or perhaps Wales, Eggsy finds himself stupefied. “Why the fuck do your mum and dad have a cottage in France?”
“It’s been in the family for years,” Merlin explains as he packs a bag for their getaway. “My mum’s side, and we used to summer there when I was a child. Plus, my father hates St. Tropez and Cannes.”
He scratches his head as he watches his boyfriend folding his underwear (folding his underwear, what the fuck is up with this bloke?). “But why not Wales? Or Brighton, for that matter?”
“My aunt lives on the property in Wales,” Merlin replies distractedly. He’s trying to figure out which jumper not to include in his packing. This takes a moment before discarding a forest green one. “And we’re Scottish, love. Why on earth would we vacation in England?”
Apparently, Merlin’s Scottish pride is hereditary and it makes Eggsy wonder what his family would think of him dating an Englishman.
(“My brother-in-law is from Kent; it took Papa a few years to get over but he’s fine now. Especially when Laura and Sophie were born. Peter’s a nice chap even if he has shit taste in football clubs.”
“Who are Laura and Sophie?”
“My nieces. Did I not tell you about them?”
“Um, no. You did not tell me that you was a hot uncle. Bet ’em mates love stealin’ peeks at you, babe!”
“Hardly. They’re only eight and ten. My brother’s children, on the other hand…”
“Hold up, bruv! How many of these siblings do you have?”
“Just two; Nigel and Lorna.”
“What, like Thornberry?”)
Cartoon characters aside, they arrive in the seaside town of Étretat and to the Greaves Family cottage, a charming structure that’s probably been featured in one of those decorating magazines his mum loves so much. It’s comprised of stone and mortar with plants climbing up the frame of the entry like the house has been taken straight out of a storybook. The inside is comfortable and elegant in a way that isn’t stuffy or so posh he feels awkward being there.
Which is a good thing because neither he nor Merlin has left the house, much less put on actual clothes, from the moment they put down their bags, save for underwear or a t-shirt if one of them is cooking a meal. Instead of sightseeing all the wonders Étretat has to offer, Eggsy spends the majority of their holiday pressed most flat surfaces. Sofa, kitchen counter, shower door, porcelain tub, and the front door are just a few of the places he’s been had. All of it with one of his chap’s hands curled possessively on his body.
Sure they do it in bed, but being away from the hum and routine has gotten Merlin in quite the imaginative state. Eggsy ain’t complaining; he’s just come back from his first assignment since Brest; a three-week mission in Istanbul.
In other words, they fuck. A lot.
There’s also post-coital cuddling, the whisper of sweet nothings, and all that other shit couples do. Well, their version of it, anyway; dirty talk, caressing overly sensitive parts, and in one case, Merlin continuously milking Eggsy’s prostate until he pretty much faints during orgasm. Not that any of it matters. He gets to spend uninterrupted time with his boyfriend and it’s fucking aces, even if his bum is sore by the end of it.
Eggsy is fidgeting on one of the back patio loungers as he sips his cup of coffee and watches the whitecaps as they crash into the cliffs. Ducking his nose into the collar of Merlin’s jumper, he inhales the familiar scent of him and grins.
The Scotsman was still asleep the last Eggsy checked, all flopped out on the bed upstairs and oblivious to the world. He doesn’t expect him to come down until it’s nearly lunchtime anyways.
So Eggsy enjoys his cuppa and the scenic views, thinking of Merlin doing the exact same thing as a child. He’s seen old photographs of the Greaves family around the house; most of the children and a few of the mister and missus.
It seems they had a lot of fun staying within these walls, given the photographic evidence—the toothy (or in Merlin’s case, toothless) smiles between two brothers and their sister, Lorna curled up on her mum’s lap for a cuddle, their dad teaching them how to fish, their parents dancing in the living room. The type of family life Eggsy never got to experience. Sure it stings a bit, but there ain’t much he can do about it. Had he had this life he wouldn’t have Daisy (and honestly, fuck that because aside from Merlin, his sister is the love of Eggsy’s life), he wouldn’t have Kingsman, and no Merlin either. So yeah, his formative years were a bit rough—he ain’t bitching, though. Everything worked out for the best.
Plus who can say they’ve seen Merlin’s bare baby bottom? Other than Roxy, of course, because there’s no way Eggsy ain’t sending her a picture through text.
The patio doors open. “You nicked my jumper,” the Scotsman comments, sounding unsurprised.
“It smells like you,” Eggsy tells him with an innocent expression. He follows Merlin’s path as he comes to join him on the lounger. He sits behind the lad, bracketing his body with long legs and an arm wrapped around his waist. “’Sides, you love it.”
Merlin rolls his eyes while he takes a sip of his own coffee. “I have nothing to say on the matter.”
“Sure you don’t,” he teases, nudging the other man with his elbow. “A few more cups, you’ll be a regular telly presenter. Like one of ‘em blokes from Britain's Got Talent.”
His boyfriend snorts into his ear. “Your mind works in mysterious ways, a ghràidh,” Merlin whispers into his ear before bestowing a gentle kiss to his hairline.
They spend what’s left of the morning watching the ocean and sipping their coffee. A comfortable silence falls once the conversation between them has tapered off; Eggsy snuggles into Merlin’s chest while beloved fingers card through his hair. He could fall asleep like this, with his boyfriend wrapped around him and the sun on his skin.
“I have a surprise for you,” Merlin tells him as he nuzzles the tip of his nose against the lad’s temple.
There’s intent in his brogue and it makes Eggsy’s cock twitch with interest. “I’ve gotta tell you, babe,” he says apologetically, “but my arse is killin’ me.” He watches as Merlin’s stoic face breaks with laughter. “What? It’s true! You’ve been fuckin’ like the world is gonna end…again. Do you realize how big your cock is? Like tryna put a round peg in a square hole!”
“A round…” the older man cackles, burying his face into Eggsy’s shoulder blade. His amusement vibrates through the lad’s body as he holds him tighter. Merlin—the berk—eventually collects himself; he’s still giggling when he’s dabbing at his eyes with the hem of his sleeve.
Eggsy has a dour look on his face. “You done?”
“Sorry, love,” Merlin says so sweetly. He turns the young man towards him, leaning closer to kiss his cheeks one at a time. “What if I told you,” he begins to explain, “that your surprise would have nothing to do with your arse as wonderful as it is but my own?”
He chokes on his next breath. “Your arse?”
“Yes. Mine,” the Scotsman intones. He’s running his lips over Eggsy’s stubble, nearly that spot on his jaw that makes him keen. “I want to feel you in me, a ghràidh.”
“But I thought you didn’t do that,” Eggsy rasps, closing his eyes as teeth nip at him and one of Merlin’s hands slip underneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He arches into his boyfriend’s palm, shuddering a curse at the feel of warm, calloused skin against his cock. “Fuck, babe. You’re a persuasive shit, you know that?”
Merlin hums in agreement as he guides Eggsy’s hand into his own bottoms. His cock is hard and leaking, eager to be touched, which the lad does. “A ghràidh,” Merlin groans as Eggsy strokes him. “We could always fuck out here; no one around for miles to spy on us.”
“And you call me an exhibitionist, fuckin’ twat!” He gives the older man’s shaft a squeeze. “We’re takin’ this inside, bruv! Don’t want my balls fallin’ off or gettin’ pneumonia because we was fuckin’ outside!”
For all of Eggsy’s bitching, he’s excited at the prospect of being the one to doing the fucking. Not that he doesn’t enjoy being fucked…it’s just that…
Well, he was certain Merlin was a non-negotiable top. It’s not like it was ever brought up in conversation, nor did Eggsy complain, because honestly, he ain’t going to complain when it comes to Merlin.
Except for when he steals the blankets, dick.
They’re kissing and fumbling their way back to the master bedroom, losing their scant clothing along the way when Eggsy brings it up. “Thought you never bottomed,” he gasps into Merlin’s collarbone.
“Not often,” is the reply he gets before Eggsy is shoved against the wall and the Scotsman’s hot mouth is covering his own.
So what if he moans into it because why not? Looping his arms around Merlin’s neck, Eggsy returns it with everything he’s got and then some as they walk back into the bedroom. “Not often, you say?” the lad echoes as they fall upon the mattress. “How often is not often?”
“For five,” Merlin says, kissing Eggsy with each pause, “men.” He leans back to straddling the young man’s thighs, hazel eyes glowing in the light of the room. “And only for very special blokes.”
Eggsy wags his brows. “You sayin’ I’m special?”
“Mhm, quite,” he replies as he gently pushes the lad onto his back. Merlin reaches behind him, fidgeting for a moment before gasping from parted lips. He smirks as he reveals a glistening, stainless steel-colored butt plug.
“Jesus,” Eggsy groans, watching as Merlin sets the plug down upon the comforter. “You really know how to render me utterly useless, you know that?”
This doesn’t seem to surprise his boyfriend, who shrugs while reaching for the bottle of lube pushed towards the footboard. “I learned it from someone else,” he says as he pours the contents into the palm of his hand. Merlin tosses the bottle away and goes about slicking up Eggsy’s length.
“Oh?” the young man asks, his voice hitching at the touch. He knows exactly where his boyfriend got that from, recalling the second time they slept together.
Eggsy had spent a fair amount of time in the gym showers, cleaning and stretching his arsehole before slipping a plug of his own inside. The walk down to Merlin’s lair was fraught with nerves and wondering if he read their encounter on the jet all wrong.
He hadn’t, as it turned out, and now here they were.
Merlin strokes him to aching hardness. “This cheeky tart,” he explains as he lets go of Eggsy’s cock in favor of lining his arsehole up with the very tip of it, “came into my office all done up in his bespoke suit and no undergarments.”
“You’re forgettin’ ‘bout the best part, babe,” Eggsy teases. “Had a plug up my arse all ready for you to slip into.”
His boyfriend’s lips curve into a feral grin. “I could never forget about that,” he replies over the sound of Eggsy’s moan as he sinks down upon his length. Merlin’s eyes slip shut at the intrusion, his mouth falling open in silent exclamation. As he takes Eggsy inside of him, the Scotsman tilts his head back, exposing the pulse of his throat and his heaving chest. “A ghràidh, a ‘faireachdainn gu bheil deagh.”
Honestly, Eggsy hasn’t a clue what Merlin has whispered to him because he’s too focused on how fucking good his arsehole feels around his cock. God, he’s missed the heat and slickness as it envelops him. That tight pull that swallows him down and doesn’t let go.
It’s been ages since he’s fucked someone, not that he’s complaining, but fuck, fuck, fuck Eggsy feels as if his mind is short-circuiting. He reaches for Merlin’s hips, feeling the warm skin under his palms as his boyfriend adjusts to his girth. Eggsy glances up to find the older man’s handsome face filled with absolute bliss. He doesn’t mind that Merlin stays seated on his length for a full minute or two because dammit if the man ain’t beautiful.
“Babe,” Eggsy whispers encouragingly, running his fingers over golden colored joints. “You have no idea how fit you look right now. So fuckin’ gorgeous, swear down!”
A pair of hazel eyes watches him beneath a dark fan of lashes. “Been wanting this for a while,” Merlin admits with the first roll of his hips.
It’s like a slow breaking wave; that’s the only way Eggsy can describe how his lover moves upon him. Merlin plants a hand in the center of his chest for leverage as he begins a leisurely ride upon the lad’s cock; building the pace and depth as his own length slaps on Eggsy’s skin. His fingers curl against Eggsy when Merlin’s prostate is struck, whispering his pleasure in Gaelic.
“I want you all of the time,” Eggsy tells him, folding his fingers over his boyfriend’s hand. “Love you so fuckin’ much, babe. I can’t imagine my life without you, you know that? It’s like I didn’t exist before you came along.”
Merlin shudders, the sensation going straight to the lad’s groin. He’s moving faster now and clenching down on the length inside of him. “Tha gaol agam ort,” he moans. “Tha gaol agam ort, mo chridhe.”
He rocks into Merlin, crying out as the tightness of him brings Eggsy closer to breaking. He can’t help it when he tilts his hips and buries himself deeper in the welcoming heat. Merlin whimpers at the movement, his arsehole fluttering around him.
“Fuck,” Eggsy groans as he matches his boyfriend with each movement. His stomach is becoming slick with precum now, wetting the fine hairs and his skin with each movement. He reaches for his lover’s leaking cock and takes it in hand. It is delightful to hear the strangled cry falling from Merlin’s lips; that lovely sound articulating the effect this has on him.
The velvety length in his hand is hot and wanting. Eggsy strokes Merlin in time with their lovemaking, relishing the ecstasy that washes over the other man’s face and the anticipatory gasps that comes with it.
“Eggsy,” Merlin intones as his body shakes. His skin has turned a lovely shade of pink, spreading from the base of his throat and down towards his chest, stopping above his heart. “Eggsy…”
He squeezes his boyfriend’s hand in reply. “I’ve got you,” Eggsy assures. “I’m right here, babe.”
It’s Merlin’s sharp cry that prepares Eggsy for his climax. His lover’s channel pulses, squeezing and clamping down upon the lad’s cock until Merlin bursts. The slickness of his semen coats Eggsy’s fist and dribbles onto his stomach where it commingles with sweat. He keeps stroking the Scotsman, who blindly arches into the tight circle of his hand as if he’s lost control of himself.
The sight is glorious to behold and it makes Eggsy love him all the more.
He pulls Merlin to him as he flips their positions and shoves his long legs over his shoulders without disconnecting them. Eggsy fucks into his lover’s still fluttering heat, chasing his own release while prolonging Merlin’s.
As he feels his climax coming to a head, Eggsy thinks that he will never tire of this no matter how many times they make love or even touch. Merlin’s voice is his own private symphony and his body is the home Eggsy has always yearned for.
“I love you,” he rasps into the other man’s shoulder, his voice catching on the last word as his orgasm comes and sweeps him away.
+1. The Aftermath
He finds Eggsy behind a triage curtain.
Most of the blood on the lad’s shirt isn’t his own, though it does not calm Merlin’s nerves. He stands at the threshold, watching as Eggsy fiddles with one of the cuffs whose edges are stained crimson where they aren’t charred.
He knows that Eggsy is lucky; his injuries are superficial compared to what Roxy endured. While she nearly bled out from a piece of shrapnel lodged into her stomach, the lad is mostly unscathed. Two of his middle fingers are taped together and covered in gauze while a bandage is wrapped around the site of a second-degree burn. The rest are luckily minor cuts, save for the unfortunate bruises that bloom over one side of his face.
This job is never easy on anyone, especially for Merlin’s colleagues. Especially for Eggsy, who bears his wounds without complaint.
“Eggsy,” Merlin softly calls, earning the young man’s attention. His greeting is met with a tired pair of eyes staring at him. It’s then he notices the cut on Eggsy’s upper lip, already bruised and swollen. “Hello.”
Eggsy shrugs as his tongue runs over his mouth. “Hi,” he replies. “Been standin’ there long?”
It’s very subtle, but it’s an invitation to come forward into the lad’s sphere. Merlin comes toward him as if he normally would. As if Roxy hadn’t nearly died and it’s just another boring day. “Not really,” he tells him. “Had to speak with Arthur before I came down.”
“Hm,” Eggsy murmurs. He has a faraway look about him, one Merlin’s seen many times before. It’s usually reserved for when the lad is upset, which he most certainly is.
Roxy is his best friend and to have to witness her brush with death would rattle anyone. Merlin can still hear Eggsy’s desperate pleas for her to stay awake while he put pressure on her wound. Through the feed on the lad’s glasses, he saw blood pumping steadily through Eggsy’s fingers and for a brief moment, Merlin thought they were going to lose her.
Thank god Lamorak and Kay arrived when they did.
“Why don’t we get you cleaned up,” he says. He offers his hand and holds it out for the taking. Merlin waits for Eggsy because he knows better than to rush him.
The lad’s stare falls upon the tips of his fingers. “I don’t have any extra clothes,” he admits sheepishly as his eyes meet Merlin’s. “They need a washin’, so I took them back to the flat.”
The flat being their flat now that Eggsy has moved in. It’s still fairly new for both of them—just a few weeks—but neither would change a thing.
“Going home wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” Merlin says with care.
“What ‘bout Roxy?” Eggsy replies. His eyes brighten at the mention of her name.
Merlin nods in understanding. “She’s going to be in surgery for a while.” He finds himself in a precarious situation, as there’s no easy answer. Merlin knows that Roxy will be in the surgical theater for quite a while, after which Percival will stay with her.
He understands Eggsy wanting to stay on the mansion grounds until she’s out of the woods. God, does he! Merlin has been in his shoes more than once when Harry was still alive, but he also knows that the lad needs rest. Eggsy is shaking with exhaustion and pain alike, but he won’t take care of himself in light of what’s happened.
“I can’t just leave,” the lad says, resembling how he looked upon seeing Harry in a coma for the first time. His entire face is as dragged down by sadness, worry, and guilt as it was then.
“Aye, but you need rest,” Merlin tells him. “Roxy will have my bollocks if you end up collapsing because I didn’t take care of you. And I quite like them where they are.” He motions his chin towards his hand, which Eggsy glances with uncertainty. “Please, a ghràidh, let me take you home.”
Tiredly, Eggsy reaches for Merlin’s hand, folding his fingers between the Scotsman’s own as he sighs. His entire body deflates when he finally stands and leans into Merlin’s embrace. “Only because you said please,” he murmurs as he tucks his head under Merlin’s chin.
“Manners maketh man,” the older man teases. He drops a kiss on Eggsy’s hairline. Hidden underneath the remnants of the lad’s cologne are hints of smoke and resin. It’s a smell that Merlin wishes he could rinse away.
Which he can…in their flat.
They gather Eggsy’s things and leave for the taxi parked in the driveway. The night is a bit chilly and moisture clings to the air as if it will rain. It does on the quiet drive back to their home in Chelsea, a downpour of medium size. Neither of them nor the driver engage in conversation, which suits everyone in the vehicle just fine.
Once they are inside, the silence breaks when JB yips excitedly as he trots over to greet them. He sits on his haunches and waits patiently to be petted, which Eggsy does. The pug makes a pleased sound while Merlin goes to set his keys on the entry table.
Eggsy’s pained grunt catches his attention; he finds the lad lifting JB into his arms and cuddling him against his chest. The pug rests his head upon his owner’s shoulder and closes his eyes in contentment. It seems that JB doesn’t realize that Eggsy’s suit has met its ruin.
There are merits to his boyfriend, as well as other Kingsman agents, wearing the bespoke suit; it keeps injuries to a minimum and has Merlin’s thanks for doing so.
“We should probably toss your suit,” he comments while Eggsy whispers into JB’s ear.
He pauses to glance down at his appearance, wrinkling his nose at it. “Probably my shirt as well,” Eggsy says, meeting Merlin’s eyes. He offers another tired grin. “Could always light ‘em on fire. Bonfire Night, yeah?”
“That’s not until November, dearest,” Merlin chuckles. He scratches the back of Eggsy’s head, mindful of any hidden bruises. “Let me walk this one while you go clean up.”
Eggsy relaxes into the touch, nodding as he closes his eyes. “Alright,” he agrees after a while. His lids flutter open and he gives Merlin a fond look. “Both you behave. Don’t want to hear that you two are causin’ trouble in the neighborhood.”
“I make no promises,” Merlin says as JB is placed into his arms. He pets the dog’s happy spot behind his ear, much to JB’s delight. “Do you need any assistance before I go?”
His boyfriend shakes his head, already shrugging off his jacket. “Nah. I’ll be fine, babe. Nothin’ a long hot shower and a lie-in can’t fix.”
Eggsy is removing his loafers when Merlin has leashed JB up and accepts a kiss on his forehead. “We won’t be gone long,” Merlin assures and then he’s off into the night.
He and JB don’t go far since Eggsy isn’t accompanying them on their walk. While the pug likes Merlin well enough, it has been obvious from the very beginning that he is a daddy’s boy. “We need to take extra care with our boy tonight,” he tells JB, who is busying sniffing a bush. “He’s had a rough day. I’m sure Eggsy would appreciate some cuddles from us both.”
The pug turns his head at Merlin mentioning the young man. He tilts his head.
“Do you think you can do that?” he asks, to which JB chuffs in agreement. Merlin kneels down and ruffles his haunches. “Good boy. Come on, let’s keep going.”
It’s quiet when they return to the flat, save for the soles of his shoes and JB’s toenails clicking on the hardwood as he darts off towards the bedroom. Merlin sighs after him before going about shutting down their home for the night. He refreshes JB’s water bowl and scrubs his food dish clean, things he usually does in the company of Eggsy.
As Merlin heads to the bathroom, his boyfriend comes out of the bedroom with his mobile in hand. He’s nicked one of his old university t-shirts again, pulled over a pair of sweatpants. “Heard from Percy,” Eggsy says, holding up the device. “Roxy’s out of surgery and expected at least two dozen roses; all of ‘em pink.”
“We shan’t disappoint the lady,” Merlin replies with a smile. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Eggsy shrugs as he pockets his mobile. “Wanted to wait for you.”
“I’ll be quick then,” he says, pressing a peck to the young man’s lips. Merlin does an abbreviated version of his nightly routine, something which always involves Eggsy in one form or another. It’s a bit lonely in the bathroom, even if he can hear his boyfriend talking to JB, so he rids himself of the day by brushing his teeth and taking a shower.
Once he’s patted himself dry, Merlin wanders back into the bedroom naked to find JB in his dog bed and Eggsy texting on his mobile.
“She also wants chocolates,” the lad tells him while he pulls on a pair of y-fronts.
Merlin snorts. “Of course she does,” he says as he walks over to the light switch and flicks it down. Only the bedside lamp on his side illuminates the room. “I have a feeling Roxy is going to milk this for all it’s worth.”
“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” his boyfriend murmurs. Eggsy sets the device down on the nightstand and settles into bed with a yawn. “She’s gonna have to wait, though. I’m fuckin’ knackered.”
“I think she’ll understand,” Merlin replies as he slips between the blankets and reaches for the lamp. He turns it off, drenching the room into darkness.
The mattress shifts from Eggsy inching towards the center where Merlin meets him. There, they are chest to back with clasped hands over the lad’s stomach. He kisses Eggsy’s nape, imagining the freckles he touches in the dark and memorizing their taste. It’s not the evening for sex. No, they will forgo that for now and enjoy the warmth of each other’s presence.
“I love you, you know,” Eggsy yawns, his fingers squeezing Merlin’s.
He smiles into his boyfriend’s skin and nods. “And I love you.”
Merlin hasn’t a single clue when he falls asleep; only that when he wakes, Eggsy will be held safely in his arms.