It was the coldest night of the year so far. The weather app on Eggsy’s phone said it wasn’t going to snow, but he could feel it coming. The wind ripped right through his knock-off Burberry jacket. It didn’t matter. Eggsy stood, shivering, propped up against the streetlight, alternately huffing hot air into his hands and jamming them deep into his pockets. The cold was better than going home, and it was definitely better than going home empty handed. He still had the shadow of a bruise on his right side from the last time Dean reminded him that he needed to earn his keep.
It was quiet all down the street. The usual boys had either found someone to go off with earlier in the night, or had called it quits when the temperature dropped to freezing. Being alone didn’t matter to Eggsy any more than the cold. He stood in the lamp’s yellow glow, grateful for its light if not its warmth. He exhaled a foggy puff of air, and waited.
A sound caught his attention, faint at first, but growing louder. There was no mistaking the whine of a protesting transmission trying to find the right gear. The car, a beautiful Aston Martin, straight from a fucking Bond film, spun around the corner intro Eggsy’s view. It was a ‘77 Vantage, mint condition, in a gorgeous silvery-blue. He watched wide-eyed and amused as some knob who couldn’t drive stick lurched the poor thing down the road past him before screeching to a halt.
This was not Eggsy’s typical customer, but what the hell? It was already the most interesting thing to happen all night. He sauntered up to the passenger window, preparing to put on his most seductive face and ask the driver if he was looking for a date, but before he could knock, it rolled down. A man wearing a suit tailored to within an inch of its life was opening it with an old fashioned hand crank.
“Excuse me,” he said, peering up at Eggsy all hunched over from the driver’s side. “I’m afraid I could use a bit of help.”
Eggsy found him adorable, with his foppish hair and thick-rimmed glasses. He smirked. “I’ll say. The clutch is on the left.”
“Oh. Yes,” the posh man replied. “Thank you. But I appear to be slightly lost.”
No shit, Eggsy thought. What he said was, “You ain’t got GPS?”
The posh man made a face suggesting he had already lamented this very thing. “Unfortunately not.This car is practically an antique.”
“No cell phone then?”
“It died. That’s how I got lost in the first place.” His exasperated look faltered for a moment, possibly because he realized that he was alone on the street in an expensive car that he clearly had no idea how to drive, and had just admitted to not being able to call anyone should this very possibly delinquent young man in one of the roughest parts of London decided to use that information against him. Undaunted, he continued, “Can you be of service to me or not?”
Eggsy grinned. This bloke wasn’t down this particular road for the same reason many other men came down it, but he might still be able to make a bit of quick cash and head home before the snow started. “Service?” He repeated slowly, as if considering it. “Yeah. I can be of service.” A part of him wanted to add that servicing men like him was what he did, after all, but he left off. There was no indication that this man knew what Eggsy was doing out on the street alone at this hour and no reason to clue him in.
“Wonderful!” A relieved smile washed over the man’s face, and Eggsy was momentarily struck by how good looking he was. He had to be at least 50, but there was still an air of boyish charm about him. “I’m looking for Kensington. Can you give me directions?”
Eggsy took a stunned moment to wonder how the fuck this man had mistakenly made his way to the East end from bloody Kensington before flashing his most charming smile and saying “Sure. For twenty quid.”
He shrugged. “Price just went up to fifty.”
Indignantly, the man scoffed, “You can’t charge me for directions.”
“I can do whatever I want to, bruv. I ain’t lost.” He made as if to turn and walk away, but the man shouted at him to wait.
“Alright,” he said. “You win. I’ll pay, just help me.”
Eggsy over-exaggerated his shiver. “Can I get in, mate? It’s cold out here, yeah?”
The man took a hard look at Eggsy, contemplating the risk. His conclusion must have been favorable. He gave a curt nod and said, “Get in.” He added a “please” after a moment. He was a gentleman, after all.
Eggsy got in the car and blasted the warm air from the heating vents towards his face while the man pulled out his wallet.
“Can you break this euro?” he asked holding out €100.
“I’ll even show you where the Queen lives for this.” He snatched the bill and put it carefully in his inside jacket pocket. “Turn around, you’re headed the wrong way.”
The man reached for the stick shift, and then shook his head. “Get out.”
“What? I just got in!”
“Yes, I know, and you’re going to get back in on this side. I'm finished with driving.” He opened his door and slid out, leaving Eggsy to wonder if maybe the man was a little unhinged. Who let a complete stranger drive their classic supercar?
It was when the man opened Eggsy’s door for him and they passed within inches of each other as one got out and the other got in that Eggsy smelled him. Alpha. It was a subtle note under the permeating smell of snow not yet fallen and the man’s no doubt pricey cologne, but Eggsy’s numb nose still picked it up like a vibration inside his head. It was a shame this guy wasn't interested in sex. It had been far too long since Eggsy had been been with an alpha. He pushed the thought away and got in the driver's seat.
Once they settled, and Eggsy reached for the ignition, the man asked for his name.
“Eggsy.” he repeated, amused. “I'm pleased to meet you, Eggsy. I'm Harry.”
Eggsy leaned towards him with a conspiratorial whisper. “This car stolen, Harry?”
“No,” Harry laughed. “Merely borrowed. From a friend.”
“Is he mental? To let you be driving it, I mean? He of sound mind and all that?”
There was a pause, as though Harry were formulating an answer that was both gentlemanly and accurate. In the end he settled on saying, “He would be pleased to know it was in capable hands.”
Eggsy grinned. “Well buckle in, Harry. I'm gonna show you what this car can really do.”
What Merlin had actually said, repeatedly, if the truth were to be told, was that Harry was under no circumstances allowed to touch his car. Harry figured what Merlin didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Then he went and got lost, which was not something he was aware you could do in the middle of a city, but that might not have even been a problem in a car that he could properly handle. It was hard to pay attention to what direction you were going when you were busy trying to make the car move at all. Harry was embarrassed. And now there was a strange and yet compellingly charming young man driving the blasted thing like he was born to it, which, if his accent was anything to go by, he was not.
They zoomed down the streets and around corners with effortless grace. They followed alongside the river for a few minutes before it veered to the left and they didn't. True to his word, Eggsy made a detour to go past Buckingham Palace, although Harry had seen it before. It's not as if he were completely unfamiliar with London. Eggsy kept one hand on the wheel and the other the drive shaft, a huge smile on his face. Harry was enchanted. He realized somewhat belatedly that Eggsy was saying something. What he caught at the end was, “real ‘Queen and Country’ type.”
“I apologize,” he said, shaking off the momentary lapse in concentration. “I missed that last bit. What were you saying?”
“Your friend. He all patriotic like?”
Harry laughed. “Why yes, actually. What gave you that idea?”
“Well it's the car, innit? If you just want something flash, you go Italian. But this? Big front engine, rear wheel drive, none of that fuck off melodramatic high rev shit. Just as fast, mind, this model actually beat out the Ferrari when it was introduced, but there's a kind of Britishness to it. Like an old man in a pub who beats up a bunch of lads with his brolly.”
Harry blinked. This one was full of surprises.
Eggsy continued. “And it's a classic. I mean, when I first saw you pulling round the corner, no shit I thought ‘That is James fucking Bond.’ You can't drive for shit, mate, sorry, but this car just screams in its very dignified British way like ‘come fuck with me, and then I'll make you some tea.’”
Eggsy looked abashed. “I mean, don't you think?”
“I think you're a rather astute young man. And you know a lot about cars. Where does that come from? Do you work with automobiles?”
“You taking the piss? Me and my mates growing up, we boosted a few for kicks, but it were nothing as nice as this. I just watch a lot of Top Gear.” He paused, giving Harry a moment to absorb his history as a juvenile delinquent before dropping the next bombshell. “No, I was working out there when you come along.”
“Oh?” Harry asked, confused for a brief moment until realization sunk in. “Oh! Good Lord, you're… I never would have guessed.”
Eggsy cast Harry a nervous glance, waiting to see if that was the extent of his reaction.
“I feel a bit foolish now” Harry continued, somehow feeling the need to fill Eggsy’s so far uncharacteristic silence. “I didn't stop in order to proposition you in that way.”
He hadn't, of course. Eggsy had merely been the first person that he'd seen after he realized he was well and truly fucked. But to know that this boy, this beautiful boy, who had clearly grown up under rough circumstances, this boy who drove like a dream and was witty and insightful, was out in the freezing cold selling his body just about broke Harry's heart. He thought about the street where they'd met. The neighborhood. The kinds of men who would take advantage of Eggsy every day. He felt a stab of protective anger.
The corner of Eggsy’s mouth tipped up in a small smile. “I never thought you did. But if you hadn't, you'd have driven this classic British masterpiece into the river, or someone with a lot less scruples than me would be rolling you right now. We helped each other out as I see it.”
“Yes,” Harry agreed. “I suppose you're right.” He didn't have time to dwell any longer on Eggsy’s circumstances. The car slowed as they rolled down Kensington High Street.
“Your neighborhood's around here yeah? Where to?”
Harry knew how to get back to Merlin’s place from where they were and he directed Eggsy through the smaller residential streets. As they pulled up in front of the house, a three story white brick edifice in the middle of a row of identical structures, Eggsy said, “So how is it you don't know where you live?”
“This house, same as this car, belongs to my patriotic friend, whose name happens to be Merlin. I haven't lived in London in some years, but when I come to town for business he's kind enough to open his home to me. I prefer it to the impersonal nature of hotels. As it happens, he's away on business as well, so I have the place to myself.”
Harry looked around. He was not remotely surprised at the impeccable job Eggsy had done parallel parking on the street. He was surprised at the light dusting of snow just starting to fall. The weather report, it seemed, had been wrong. Eggsy turned the car off.
Now that they’d arrived, Harry was hesitant to see the boy go. They sat in the residual warmth from the heater, feeling it ebb away as the frigid air crept in. “Thank you for getting me, and the car, home in one piece,” Harry said quietly.
“No problem. Just promise you'll call a cab next time, yeah?” Eggsy laughed. Harry joined him. It was a nice sound.
They got out of the Aston, and Eggsy walked around the front to give Harry back the key. “Probably never drive one of those again,” he said with a wistful sigh. “It was brilliant.”
Harry pocketed the key and held his hand back out. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Eggsy.”
“You too, Harry” Eggsy said as he grasped Harry's outstretched hand and gave it a shake. Instead of letting go, they lingered, fingers wrapped around each other's palms. “Well… I oughta get going. It's a bit of a walk to the tube station in all this.” He nodded up at the sky and started pulling his hand from Harry's grip.
Harry's fingers tightened of their own accord at the last second, not letting Eggsy go. Harry looked down at his hand, dumbstruck, with no idea what to say, but knowing that he could not possibly allow this boy to walk away from him.
Eggsy gave him a questioning, almost hopeful look, but stayed put.
“Eggsy, if I were to ask you to accompany me inside…” he began.
Eggsy used the leverage of their hands to pull Harry in closer. He looked deep into his eyes and felt Harry's breath speed up as their bodies came into the barest contact. “Is that what you want, Harry? You want me to come inside with you?”
Harry’s throat was suddenly too dry for words, so he nodded. The best he could do was whisper “please.” It wouldn't do to be lax on manners now.
Eggsy grinned the cheeky grin Harry was coming to love. “I thought you'd never ask.”
“I don’t kiss on the mouth,” Eggsy breathed. He hadn't meant for it to sound apologetic. The No Kissing rule was there for his protection, as a final barrier separating Eggsy’s job from Eggsy’s emotions. Kissing was far too intimate and personal. So why did he feel like he made a mistake turning it down?
“Fuck,” Harry whined. It sounded filthy coming from his high class mouth.
They locked eyes. “Not quite yet,” Eggsy promised.
It had been ages since Eggsy had been nervous about sleeping with someone. Tricks were, after all, just tricks; a way to pay the bills and keep Dean off his back. It beat flipping burgers was all. But when they got out of the car, Eggsy, who never let himself feel disappointed by anything, couldn't help the pang of regret that he had to let this one go so soon.
What would Harry want with a kid like him? Harry was nothing but class. Stylish, handsome, probably rich if the company he kept was any indication. He could have anyone. It was right and expected that he should let Eggsy leave without another thought. So when he tightened his grip around Eggsy’s hand and asked Eggsy to join him for the night in this swank house, Eggsy laid on the thickest bravado he could muster and made a decision. Harry was not the kind of guy that Eggsy would drag into an alley for a quick wank. He wanted Harry to like him. More than that, he wanted Harry to be impressed by him. He was going to make this a night that Harry would never forget.
The tension between them broke as they separated to go down the walk, but Eggsy was gratified to see Harry sneaking glances at him, and the way his lips twitched into a smile at the corners. If Eggsy was nervous, Harry was too. He could work with that.
The door opened on a small foyer. A hall stretched in front of them, dark and silent, illuminated only briefly by the porch light as they entered. There was a chill in the air, but it was far warmer than the plunging temperature outside. Eggsy could feel the slight tickle of snowflakes melting in his hair. He made sure to wipe his feet on the doormat as Harry turned on the lights.
No matter where on the price range they fell, terraced houses are by nature laid out similarly; long but narrow, with few rooms on each of their multiple floors. The hall in front of them went down the entire length building and lead off on one side to a formal dining room, a large kitchen, a less formal eating area that Eggsy supposed posh people like Harry would call a banquette, a half bath, and at the back of the house overlooking the shared garden there was a study. Or maybe it was a library. Office? Den? Something with a shit ton of leather bound books and stiff looking chairs at any rate.
It was a nice home, if not quite Eggsy’s aesthetic. Everything was clean, and it all matched. The first floor was laid out carefully to maximize space, and fully furnished in white and chrome. It was very modern, Eggsy thought, opulent without being garish. Just completely boring. It was proof that being rich can't buy taste or imagination. Harry had lead him through all this without a word, but as they reached the stairs that went to the sub level he paused.
“You look amused.”
Eggsy shook his head. “Just seeing how the other half lives is all.”
Harry looked around as if noticing the decor for the first time. “Merlin’s style could perhaps be described as minimalist.”
Several replies occurred to him, but he kept them all to himself. No one was asking for a chav’s opinion on interior design. He nodded in agreement.
“Down here, yeah?” He inquired, although the question was rhetorical, and he descended before Harry could answer. At the bottom Eggsy didn't wait for an invitation before hitting the lights, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that the room didn't in any way resemble the ones above. The floor was carpeted instead of wood. It was plush, deep charcoal grey in color. The furniture was Edwardian, all in heavy carved wood and ornate hand beveled glass.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry offered to hang Eggsy’s jacket for him. He agreed and handed it over, but as he took it off he slipped the condoms and lube out of his jacket pocket and moved them to his jeans instead. It would be bad to have to stop the proceedings in search of supplies. Harry didn't notice. Sleight of hand was nothing new for Eggsy.
As Harry turned to the coat rack tucked into the corner, Eggsy took a moment to appreciate his companion’s body. He wasn't old, but mature, and he exuded an unimposing strength. He looked solid. And Eggsy always did love a man in a waistcoat.
“Would you like a drink?” Harry asked next, and walked over to the bar situated in the corner. Eggsy looked at the selection of bottles. He’d seen a few of them before, on the top shelves of bars he frequented. The rest were an unfamiliar collection of clear and amber color liquids. He hesitated. “There’s also an extensive wine cellar if you’d prefer,” Harry added.
“Whatever you’re havin’ would be great.”
Harry nodded, and busied himself pouring them each several fingers of what Eggsy imagined was an exorbitantly priced bottle of whisky while he took a seat on the antique silk damask couch that looked ready for a lady in petticoats to have a fit of the vapours on it.
“Here you are,” Harry said, bringing the glass around. “Are you hungry? I could go upstairs and make us something?”
“No, thanks” Eggsy laughed. “You seem nervous, Harry. Have that drink. Take the edge off.”
Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but shut it again quickly.
“Come sit,” Eggsy commanded, and Harry sat, but not before draining his glass in three long swallows.
Eggsy inched closer and subtly angled his body towards Harry's. He didn't usually have to be subtle or seductive. The men who came to him had no need for conversation, they just wanted to get off. Harry could have dragged him straight to the bedroom or bent him over a dozen different pieces of furniture by now. Instead he was flustered and timid, as though Eggsy were a blind date he was trying to please instead of a sure thing. It was kind of adorable.
“Why did you invite me here?”
“I’m not really sure,” Harry answered. “I’ve never done anything like this before in my life.” he let out a shaky sigh. “You seemed interesting, and I didn’t want to be alone. I have a lot on my mind at the moment. I didn’t think it through.” He paused. “Would you like me to pay you now?”
“Let's not talk about money. That can wait. I know you’re good for it. Let’s just talk a little, yeah? We got all night. It's snowing outside, it’s just us here. Tell me something about yourself.” His mind searched for an ice-breaker question. “Why the hell is all your cash in Euros?” It was an idiosyncrasy Eggsy’s mind had been stuck on for half an hour. There had to be an interesting answer.
“I live in Paris.” Harry answered.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t that interesting, but it was a foot in the door.
“I travel a lot,” he continued. “I’m a complete workaholic. If I’m not at home, I’m usually in Madrid or Rome, sometimes Vienna.”
Eggsy hedged a guess. “Are you a lawyer?”
“Lord, do I look like a lawyer?” Harry thought over his answer. “I'm a tailor.”
Something about that rung a little false, but it was none of Eggsy’s business. Men lied to him about their lives all the time.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Harry? Boyfriend?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve been single for some time. I’ve always found it hard to maintain anything long term. What about you? Do you have…? No, I don’t suppose you do. Must be a hard line of work.”
Eggsy shrugged. “Has its ups and downs, like any job.”
“I hear it can be dangerous.”
“I can take care of myself. And if you mean as far as disease and the like, I’m probably cleaner than half the people you meet these days down the pub. I always use protection and I get tested every month.”
“I wasn’t casting aspersions. I only meant… it seems lonely, always having to look after yourself.”
“Yeah, well, you’re lonely too, ain’t you, Harry? Who’s looking after you?” Eggsy knocked back the rest of his drink. He’d been sipping it slowly while they talked, but it was time to move this along. A smokey burn lingered in his throat.
Eggsy took Harry's empty glass from him and leaned forward to set them both down on the coffee table, ice cubes rattling. He had just enough of a buzz for what he was about to do. Instead of falling back into his seat Eggsy threw his leg over Harry's and sat straddling the man’s lap. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he looked up into Eggsy’s eyes. Eggsy saw surprise there, but not displeasure.
“Harry, I'm perfectly happy sitting here, drinking your posh whisky and talking about whatever you want.” He put his arms around Harry's neck. “But that's not what you brought me here to do, is it?”
Harry swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He lifted his hands as if to to touch Eggsy but let them fall back to his sides. “I don't know what I brought you here to do,” he admitted.
“I do,” Eggsy smiled, lascivious and cheeky. “You need someone to look after you.” He worked the knot of Harry's tie open and slid it from around his neck. “Someone to make you feel good.” His fingers worked fast, skilled from years of pickpocketing before his lateral career move. He had Harry's waistcoat undone as well as the top two buttons on his shirt before Harry's hands closed gently around his wrists, staying them.
Refusing to be deterred, Eggsy leaned all the way forward and nuzzled his nose up the side of Harry's neck before nipping at his earlobe. “I can make you feel very good, Harry. You don’t want me to stop. I can feel it.”
The feeling was not metaphorical. He could feel Harry's cock twitch and stiffen under him. Harry's tight trousers didn't leave much to the imagination. Eggsy rolled his hips, grinding them together so Harry could feel that he was getting hard too.
“I do want you. But before we go any further, there's something that you need to know.”
Harry groaned as Eggsy mouthed his way across his throat, dragging his canines and then kissing the red marks to soothe the sting. “I already know,” he rumbled in his most seductive voice before running his tongue around the shell of Harry's ear. “I know you're an Alpha. I could smell it on you in the car.”
Startled, Harry pulled back enough to look Eggsy in the eye. Eggsy was pleased to note the flush in Harry's face, his pupils dilated with desire, the visible thrum of his pulse under his skin. Harry looked half-way to wrecked and they'd only just started. Eggsy wondered if he looked the same. He hoped so.
Harry's hands fell from where they held Eggsy’s still between their chests to rest instead on Eggsy’s thighs. “I'm on the highest grade suppressants that money can buy.”
“That's very impressive, Harry,” he replied, continuing to open the buttons on Harry's shirt, exposing his chest. “And I'm on the highest grade suppressants you can get for free down at the clinic, but there's no fooling an Omega nose. Not this one, at least.”
It was clear from the look on his face that Harry, or at least the brain part of him, wanted to have a discussion about this. Finding out your street corner rentboy was a rare and precious creature lead to a certain line of questioning. Eggsy had no intention of telling this man his life story. It wasn't hard to convince Harry to let it go for now.
Eggsy worked his hips and scratched his nails up Harry's sides under his unbuttoned shirt. “That turns you on, doesn't it? That I knew what kind of animal was hiding under that very fine suit? That I’ve had your damned pheromones in my head all night?” Harry rocked his hips up against him in reply and Eggsy gasped. He was fully hard, and despite his own heavy dose of suppressants he could feel the telltale signs of his anatomy warming up. He wouldn't need that lube he'd pocketed after all.
Harry's arm snaked up and around his back, grabbed a fistful of hair, and forcefully pulled Eggsy’s neck to the side, exposing him. He ran his nose up Eggsy’s throat, sniffing, scenting him.
“Yes,” Harry growled. “There it is. God, how could I have missed that?”
He licked a broad stripe up Eggsy’s neck, trying to catch a taste to match the smell. He finally relaxed his grip enough for Eggsy to look him in the eye. Harry was close to feral. Eggsy could see the tenuous grip that he had on remaining a gentleman instead of a ravening sex-starved beast, and the omega in Eggsy (who was admittedly kind of a brat) wanted nothing more than to watch while it snapped.
Harry’s gaze settled down on Eggsy’s mouth, and dragged him forward for a kiss, but Eggsy stopped short, tensing just short of where Harry wanted him, their lips tantalizingly close to brushing against each other.
“I don’t kiss on the mouth,” Eggsy breathed. He hadn't meant for it to sound apologetic. The No Kissing rule was there for his protection, as a final barrier separating Eggsy’s job from Eggsy’s emotions. Kissing was far too intimate and personal. So why did he feel like he made a mistake turning it down?
“Fuck,” Harry whined. It sounded filthy coming from his high class mouth.
They locked eyes. “Not quite yet,” Eggsy promised.
He stood, feeling the loss of Harry between his legs, and pulled his shirt off over his head. The muscles of his back and abdomen stretched and bunched as he did. There is an art to putting on a show while purposely not looking as though that's what you're doing, and Eggsy was an expert. He could feel Harry's eyes on him, running over his pecs and abs and settling on those V lines that make even the smartest people stupid. Eggsy made a lot of money off those lines.
He palmed the bulge his erection made in his jeans. He was desperate to open them and give his cock a squeeze and a few long strokes, but this wasn’t about him. Harry was a paying customer, and he would do well to remember that. Even if they had the good time Eggsy felt this was shaping up to be, he would walk out the door tomorrow morning and be back out on the street tomorrow night. There were priorities, and his own enjoyment wasn’t one of them.
Slowly, Eggsy dropped to his knees and shuffled forward, pushing Harry’s legs to the sides to make room for himself between them. When he opened Harry’s belt and slid the strip of leather out of its loops, Harry reached out with one hand to cup Eggsy’s cheek and run his fingers through the waves of his hair. There wasn’t a sound in the room but their breathing, rapid and heavy with desire.
“You are so very beautiful,” Harry whispered, in awe.
There was no response Eggsy could give. He never was good at accepting compliments. Instead, he grabbed Harry’s legs by the backs of his knees and pulled him forwards, forcing him to slouch down in his seat and rest his head on the back of the couch. Eggsy leaned over him, kissing his bare chest.
“What do you want?”
Harry nudged Eggsy back off of his lap and reached down to open his zipper. His cock bulged against his pants for a second before he shuffled his hips and pulled his clothes down to bunch around his thighs, far enough to release it and send his cock slapping against his belly. Eggsy’s eyes widened in a heady mixture of disbelief and lust. There was no mistaking an Alpha cock. It was only slightly longer and girthier than a Beta’s, but towards the bottom of the shaft the bulbis glandis was clearly evident; the color a shade darker, the texture rougher, denser.
Harry ran a thumb over Eggsy’s lips. “Let’s start with your mouth.”
Eggsy had no problem with that. He reached into his pocket for the condom he had secreted away. He saw a flash of disappointed understanding on Harry’s face. They would both prefer to do without it, but there was nothing to be done.
The Alpha pheromones were making Eggsy’s head swim. He had to hold himself back from burying his nose deep in the crease of where Harry’s thigh joined his groin, or into his neatly trimmed thatch of pubic hair. Beyond the normal musk of sex and sweat there was another, more primal scent, like rain in the woods and sun-warmed earth. It wreaked havoc on his senses, playing against the nerves down Eggsy’s spine like a xylophone, and pooling in his lower back. His instincts insisted that he be taken. Claimed. Mated. Bred. Jesus, what were the suppressants for if they could do nothing to stop the urge to bare his neck and present himself?
He ran his hand around Harry’s cock in a single endless stroke, pushing his foreskin into a kissable pout around the head. Harry hissed through his teeth and threaded his fingers through Eggsy’s hair.
“Now,” he commanded, and Eggsy rolled the condom on, following closely behind with his mouth. The taste of processed rubber was nowhere near satisfying, but Eggsy moaned at the weight of the flesh on his tongue. Harry filled his mouth, stretching it wide, but Eggsy wanted more. He pulled off, taking a breath, before plunging back down, taking Harry’s length as deep as he could, working his lips and swallowing to get every inch. There was no way to take the whole thing without choking himself, which had its own sort of appeal, but wasn’t what he wanted right now. Eggsy squeezed his hand rhythmically around Harry’s knot, or where his knot would be if it could be stimulated to inflation. Eggsy felt another stab of regret, for the third or fourth or fifth time tonight, a feeling anathema to him that Harry brought out seemingly without trying. Eggsy wanted Harry’s knot. His scrambled omega brain told him he needed it.
He worked his mouth over the thick veins on Harry’s shaft, licking, swirling his tongue around, sucking kisses along the length of him, wishing fervently that he could get a taste of Harry's skin.
“That’s so good, my boy,” Harry crooned, and Eggsy looked up at his face to see Harry’s eyes shut tight, his head rocking side to side on the couch’s edge. As if he could feel Eggsy’s stare, Harry’s eyes opened, and he watched as his cock sank deep into Eggsy’s mouth.
“I want you to stand up,” Harry instructed. “And then, I want you to strip.”
Eggsy did as he was told. The nervous Harry of earlier was well and truly gone. The man seated before him had the confidence of a god. Harry ran his eyes over every inch of Eggsy’s naked body, and he could feel it like a caress on his skin. Harry pulled him forward to bury his face in the dip of Eggsy’s stomach, to bite at the protrusion of his hip bones, to look hungrily at Eggsy’s hard cock in his face and lick his lips as though imagining how he would taste. Eggsy’s knees felt wobbly under such scrutiny.
A crease formed above Harry’s eyes as he noticed Eggsy’s bruised ribs. They were old bruises from Dean’s fists, mostly yellow and faded, but Harry ran his fingertips over the edges, soft and reverent, as not to hurt them. The question was there on his face. “Who did this to you?” But he didn’t ask. Instead, he stood, pulling his clothes off as he went, until they were in a heap on the floor.
Harry positioned Eggsy just as he wanted him, kneeling up on the couch, his legs spread wide. He stood between them, and ran a long finger down Eggsy’s spine.
“What do you like?”
Eggsy turned his head to look over his shoulder in confusion. “Ain’t about me, bruv. I’m not paying you to get me off. We'll do what you like.” Eggsy wasn’t used to the men who paid for his company caring one way or another about his enjoyment. But Harry, as he was coming to learn, was not like other men. He looked offended at the notion that he might do something as crass as shove his cock into Eggsy and pound away until he was finished. In fact, he looked as though he were taking Eggsy’s remark as a challenge.
When Harry slipped two fingers in between Eggsy’s already well lubricated cheeks and palpated gently around his hole, the boy let out a soft whimper.
“You see, I demand to get my money’s worth. So what I would like is for you to be so desperate to be fucked that you beg me for it.”
Harry ran his other hand down Eggsy’s chest, rubbing the flat of his palm down the bumps of his taut abdominal muscles, causing them to flutter. It came to rest just below his bellybutton, and when Harry rubbed there, ignoring the hard cock jutting out, Eggsy could feel butterflies. He pushed with both hands, leveraging Eggsy’s own weight against him as he sank back onto Harry’s fingers, breaching his hole enough to rip a gasp from his lungs.
“You don’t have to tell me what you like. But I will figure it out. And I will be ruthless in my application of that knowledge.”
He slid his fingers all the way in, twisting and stretching, every movement pulling a different sound from Eggsy’s throat. He was unable to stop the long drawn-in shaky breath followed by a high-pitched squeal. He had no control over the short panting inhalations, interspersed with sobs of “Oh. OH! Ooooohhhh.” When he slipped beyond all verbal communication and was reduced to wordless grunting with his head hanging low from his shoulders and his boneless body held up only by Harry’s arm thrown across his chest Harry leaned in to whisper in his ear.
“Are you enjoying this?” He asked, mocking, as he slid a third finger in with a twist.
Harry laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes. It’s too bad my fingers can’t go any deeper. Would you like my cock, Eggsy? You can have it if you ask. But please, remember to ask nicely, or I won’t let you have it yet.”
The dam on Eggsy’s mouth broke and everything he’d been trying to hold back came gushing out.
“Please, Harry. God, please, yes. I want it. I want your cock. Please.” Eggsy had never begged for anything before in his life. If he wasn’t filled with such euphoria, he might actually be humiliated. There was no room in his brain for those thoughts. There was only room for Harry. He tilted his head as far back as it could go and looked Harry in the eyes. “I would very much appreciate it if you would fuck me straight through this couch.”
“Cheeky boy.” But he made good on his word. “You may wish to hold on to something,” he advised, as he pulled back to grab his cock and line it up before sinking into Eggsy’s tight, wet heat in one unforgivably long stroke.
Sex with an Alpha was something Eggsy had experienced a couple of times. He never found it to be much different than sex with a Beta. It was generally more about the size of their egos than anything else. He had never shared a heat with one or experienced the drug-like stupor that he heard other Omegas talk about. He'd never felt helpless with desire and until this very moment he had never felt like he was missing out on anything. Losing all sense in a lust-filled frenzy had never held any appeal. Eggsy was always in control of his body. He said who. He said when. He said how much.
Being with Harry was an entirely different experience. He wasn't in heat of course, but he was suddenly so very aware that there was a level of pleasure beyond what he was feeling. It was maddening. Like Tantalus, the satisfaction he craved was just out of reach. Eggsy sobbed in frustration.
Harry worked at him, alternating speed and depth and force of his thrusts, battering down every one of Eggsy’s defenses until the boy was pliant in his arms. He kissed and licked and bit at Eggsy’s throat. Eggsy was so far gone he would not have cared if Harry tipped his head back to claim his mouth, but Harry never tried, not pushing where the answer had been “no.” Gentleman his mind said. Mate his heart whispered in return.
His gut clenched at the word, wringing a heated “Oh, fuck” from Harry's mouth.
He pulled Eggsy close to him then, cradling him with his whole body, and pushed in as deep as he could. He started rocking then, barely pulling out at all, just nudging at the same spot with unerring accuracy. Eggsy could feel a growing stretch at his entrance, intensifying the feeling of fullness. Harry wasn’t going to knot, but apparently his body was reacting to their coupling in much the same way Eggsy’s was, desperate to overcome the synthetic chemicals thwarting their nature.
“Are you going to come for me?” Harry panted.
“I need… I need…”
Harry knew what Eggsy needed. He reached down between his legs and grabbed dripping cock, untouched until now. He slicked his thumb over the head and stroked once, twice, three times, twisting on the final upstroke and Eggsy screamed, coming, beginning to come, endlessly coming, while his spasms sent Harry quickly over the edge.
They collapsed forward, all heaving chests and racing hearts. “Great bloody buggering fuck,” Eggsy cursed. “I think I ruined your couch.”
Harry looked over Eggsy’s shoulder as he gently pulled out of him. The mess was substantial. “Yes, I believe you have.” He shrugged. “It was only an antique.”
The first rays of light were just filtering in through the high windows when Harry awoke. There was never a lot of natural light in these lower rooms, but enough to make everything grey and hazy. He slipped from the bed quietly so he wouldn’t disturb Eggsy, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Eggsy was out cold.
Harry watched the boy, comfortably spread out all over the mattress. He sighed. How had this happened? When he had invited Eggsy inside the night before, it had been a whim. At the time Harry believed that he had only been looking for a distraction; a fresh face and stimulating conversation. He had never paid for sex before, and expected that the experience would be awkward or clinical. He didn’t believe that he could be turned on by someone who was only faking desire. But in the end he had been unable to help himself. The boy was so bloody tempting. And nothing about their encounter had felt put-on.
An impulse hit him then, a desire to get back into bed and wake Eggsy with kisses all over his body before taking him again as he had the night before, achingly slow but relentless. But no, he would let him sleep. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that a good night’s sleep was not a luxury that Eggsy had very often. He dressed in silence and left the bedroom.
Every morning Harry went on a mile long run. It gave him enough time to clear his head and make his plans for the day in front of him. This morning though, one mile was insufficient. There was a lot business to be done this week, and none of it especially pleasant. Twenty years of plotting revenge was all coming to a head, and it started today. Harry Hart needed to be focused. He finished his lap around the park, and started off on another. As much as he tried to focus, thoughts
As he made his way back to Merlin’s house, lungs burning in the frigid air, Harry found himself distressed that his oldest and best friend had been unexpectedly called away. They had planned a good deal of this together, and even though it was all up to him, Merlin was supposed to be there for support, of the emotional variety, and also the kind with the gun if it came down to it.
Before anything else today, there was the matter of Eggsy to contend with. The boy would be awake soon. He would take his money, and he would go back home. Harry was torn. This was the worst possible moment to have someone like Eggsy enter his life. He was a young, beautiful, vulnerable, unbonded omega, and his arrival seemed like no less a sign than an omen. If the timing were different, if they lived in a world where they had met some other way and gone to bed out of mutual desire and nothing else... but there was no time for “what ifs.” Instead, Harry would do what he always did, as a gentleman with a warm body asleep in his bed. He would make them breakfast.
His timing was perfect. Just as Harry finished flipping that last pancake out of the pan, Eggsy shambled up the stairs in his boxers and Harry’s unbuttoned rumpled dress shirt from the night before and nothing else. When he saw him, the spatula Harry had been using slipped from his hand and clattered to the marble counter top.
“Mornin’ Harry,” Eggsy grinned. “I woke up all alone in this amazing bed. I had no idea where I was, and suddenly, I smelled the most amazing thing. I had to come find it. Ah! There it is!” He reached for a platter full of bacon and grabbed a slice.
“Good morning, Eggsy,” he returned. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like. I may have gone a touch overboard. Breakfast is served.” He pointed to the plates piled high with food. “Could you please help me carry these into the banquette?”
They ate. They talked about the weather (the snow from the previous night did not stick, Harry told him), they talked about the last movies they had seen (Eggsy promised Harry that Mad Max was the best movie of the year and that he MUST watch it), they talked about whether they preferred cats or dogs (no question, they were both solid dog people). They did not discuss anything personal, or anything that had happened the night before. The conversation was comfortable, and the ease with which it flowed made Harry think again about how it would be if Eggsy was someone he had just met, and liked, and had liked him back.
After, they cleared the table, and stood in the kitchen, both knowing their time was coming to an end. One of them may have even said something, but as Harry fidgeted with making an unadvisable fourth cup of coffee, his phone rang.
It was his assistant Amelia in Paris. She would have news.
“I’m sorry, Eggsy,” he apologized, “but I’m afraid I need to take this.”
“It’s alright. I’m gonna grab a shower if that’s okay.”
“Of course. You’ll find everything you need in there.”
Eggsy walked away, leaving Harry to answer his phone. Foregoing pleasantries, Amelia jumped in as soon as he picked up. “You’ve got him Harry. He wants to meet.”
“He wants dinner. Tonight.”
“He’s asking for a dinner meeting? In public?”
“Yes.” She paused. “Harry, there’s something else.”
He knew what it was before she said it.
“I was told he’ll be bringing somebody with him. A plus one. Harry, you don’t think he could mean....”
“The bastard. Of course he does. Amelia, I don’t want you to worry. I’m going to take care of everything.”
“I know you will, Harry. But I really don’t think it’s wise for you to go alone. Can you bring Merlin with you?”
“No, He’s still out of town. I fear his presence would be taken as hostile, regardless.” Harry’s mind drifted to Eggsy, downstairs, wet and naked in the shower, and in one second all of his carefully made plans evaporated. “But you’re right, of course. I will bring someone with me. Make the arrangements and call me back.” He hung up before she could ask questions.
When Harry walked into the steam-filled bathroom downstairs a minute later, it was to the sound of Eggsy’s high falsetto singing. Harry slid the glass door open.
“Well maybe, you could be mine,” Eggsy sang. “Just leave it all up to me…” He was rinsing the soap from his face and sputtered clean water in surprise when he opened his eyes to see Harry staring at him, bemused. Eggsy blushed. “Don’tcha just love Prince?”
“More than life itself,” Harry replied. They both smiled. “Do you mind if I join you?”
Eggsy stepped back from under the nozzle. “Mi ducha es su ducha.”
Harry undressed and got in, warming quickly under the spray of water. He soaked his head and Eggsy handed him the shampoo.
“I had a very good time last night, Eggsy,” Harry began. “I hope you did as well.”
Eggsy nodded agreeably enough, but his eyes looked cautious.
“I have something of a proposition for you. I told you that I’m in town for business. I just spoke to my assistant in Paris, and she made me realize that I’ll need someone by my side, assisting me here as well. I’d like to hire you for the week.”
Whatever Eggsy was expecting, this was not it.
“Why do you want me?”
“I enjoy your company. Immensely.” This was true. There were other reasons though. Eggsy being an omega was one of them, but there was no reason to tell the boy that just yet. The time would come.
“You do?” He was gratified by the compliment. “Hire me, you said… How much? And to do what, exactly?”
“First, I need someone to accompany me to dinner tonight. There may be other functions throughout the week where it would be better for me to have someone on my arm, as it were.”
“So you just want me to date you.”
“Yes, and no. Eggsy, the business I have here, it might become dangerous. What I believe I am in need of... is a getaway driver.” Harry let Eggsy have a moment to think about the Aston outside before he backed the boy up against the slick tile, bracketing his arms around Eggsy’s head and leaning in to lick an errant drop of water from the mole on his neck. “I will pay you £4000, for one week of your time. You will assist me in *any* way I require, and if all goes to plan, we’ll destroy a very bad man and save the day. Are you interested?”
His wide grin was enough of an answer for Harry. “There’s one thing I have to say though,” Eggsy said as Harry turned to rinse the lacy bubbles from his chest. “I knew you weren’t no tailor.”
“I wasn't always rich, Eggsy. There was a time in my life that I had everything taken away from me. I lashed out at everyone over the injustice.”
“It doesn't matter. But the more important thing is how I moved past it.”
“Yeah? How's that?”
Eggsy thought for a moment. “This thing I'm helping you with?”
“Well let's get the fuck on then.”
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
After their shower, Amelia called again. Dinner was set for 8:00 at Ex Animo, a restaurant so in demand it was nearly impossible to make a reservation. There was a waiting list a month long. Unless you had connections. But if Chester King thought that that he was going to impress or intimidate Harry by throwing his clout around, he was sorely mistaken.
“What’s the plan for today then?” Eggsy asked, sitting casually on the long bathroom counter, wrapped in Harry’s silk robe.
“Today, Eggsy, you’re going to receive a crash course on how to be a gentleman.” Harry stood in front of the mirror and finished tying a perfect Windsor knot into his tie, its pattern neatly centered.
Eggsy’s eyebrows scrunched upwards.
“Being a gentleman has nothing to do with the circumstances of your birth,” Harry responded to his unvoiced concern. “Being a gentleman is something one learns.”
Eggsy hopped down off of the counter and took over doing up the buttons on Harry’s waistcoat. “You going to teach me how to talk proper? Like in My Fair Lady?”
“Being a gentleman has nothing to do with one’s accent. It’s not about being better than other people. Hemingway said that true nobility is being superior to your former self.”
“Okay. My former self is a bit shit, so that shouldn’t be hard. Where do we start?”
“That’s easy. The first thing that every gentleman needs is a good suit. You’re lucky you know a tailor.”
Eggsy raised his eyebrows again, not concerned this time but incredulous, and smirked. “Is that so?”
“I am a tailor. I told you. I simply have… a hobby.”
Eggsy dropped his robe to the floor and strode naked to the bedroom where his clothes from the night before were piled. It was utilitarian, not sexual, but Harry's eyes clung to his body closer than the damp silk had. He hung the robe on the door, picking up after Eggsy absent-mindedly as he watched him dress, jeans pulled taut over thighs thick with muscle.
Harry struggled to stay on task. “We’ll have to go now if we want to get you a suit for this evening. It won’t be bespoke, unfortunately. Not even all the strings I can pull could have that done in 12 hours.” He checked his watch. “Damn. Less than. It’ll have to be off the peg. Nothing to be done, I’m afraid.”
“This shop yours?” Eggsy had on his polo shirt now and was doing up the laces of a very interesting pair of winged sneakers.
“No. I don’t currently own one in London. There is a shop that I’m attempting to acquire. The man who owns it presently is the one we’ll be seeing tonight. I imagine that’s what we’ll pretend to be discussing at dinner.”
The cryptic comment got Eggsy’s attention. “Oh yeah? What’s you really gonna be talking about then?”
The question was too big to answer. “It’s a long story. I promise I’ll explain everything to you, Eggsy, but now is not the time. We’re going to another shop, not his. This one is owned by a friend of mine. He's something of a recluse, but I assure you he's the best. They’ll be able to accommodate us there. I had my assistant call ahead.”
Eggsy nodded in deferential agreement. Wherever Harry wanted to take him was wherever they would go. With a mischievous smile, he rubbed his hands together and said, “Let’s go. Give me the keys.”
“Not this time.” Harry watched Eggsy’s face fall. He was so expressive. It was endearing, how Harry could read his every emotion there. “But,” he continued, “if you’re a good boy at the shops today, I’ll let you drive us to dinner tonight.” Eggsy’s face brightened again, and Harry’s heart did a tumble at the sight of his dimples.
In the taxi, Eggsy coaxed the driver into letting him plug his dead phone on the man’s charger. It powered on, but as soon as it got past the loading screen it started buzzing with a dozen incoming messages. Eggsy leaned over the seat to check it without taking of off the power cord plugged into the car’s cigarette lighter. Not that anyone used that port for lighting cigarettes anymore. Only relics like Harry still thought of it that way instead of as a general power outlet.
“Ah, fuck,” Eggsy murmured to himself.
“Is something the matter?”
“My mum’s going mental because I never came home last night and didn’t tell her where I was.” He turned, eyes sheepish, and said, “Look, Harry, I know we’re going to get me a suit and all, but could we run by mum’s first? I could grab some things I need, too. Real quick, please?”
Harry hadn’t known that Eggsy still lived with his mother. It highlighted exactly how little he knew about this young man with whom he was about to spend the week. “Of course we can, Eggsy. We’re on a tight schedule, but we can afford a detour as long as you make it fast.”
Harry was satisfied, but Eggsy continued to look worried. “Is there something else?”
Eggsy hesitated. “I was wondering if you’d mind giving me the money you owe from last night? That way I could give it to her and she could buy some food for my baby sister.” His cheeks were pink with shame and it was easy to see that he hated talking about his circumstances at home. This situation was far out of Eggsy’s comfort zone but he looked Harry in the eye without wavering. He was proud of taking care of his family regardless of the personal debasement he had to endure. It was a position Harry understood and respected.
“Whatever you need, Eggsy. Give the driver your address.”
When they pulled up at Eggsy’s estate, Harry handed him a large fold of bills. Eggsy bristled.
“This is more than you owe for last night. I don't need charity.”
“Consider it a down-payment for the rest of the week. Your mother will need money while you're away, yes?”
Eggsy clenched his jaw. Harry watched his face as he made up his mind. Eggsy was not a person used to needing or accepting beyond what was his due. Finally, he tipped his head in a curt nod and said, “Be right back” and got out of the car.
So this was where Eggsy lived. The buildings were run-down, dirty and crumbling in places. Twenty years ago they might have passed for decent, but no new money had come into this part of town in a long time. And here he was with a mother and a baby sister. A baby? Eggsy must be in his early 20’s. Harry hadn't asked, but it seemed about right. He was older than you'd expect someone with an infant sibling to be at any rate. And he was selling himself to strangers every night to keep her fed. It was heartbreaking. And it made Harry feel like a dirty old hypocrite.
He kept his eye on the door where Eggsy had gone. He hadn't been in there long, but Harry had a sinking feeling, a twinge in his brain that something was not quite right. It could have been intuition, or Eggsy’s own half-concealed discomfiture rubbing off on him, but the tense feeling grew. The taxi driver grumbled about having to wait, but Harry ignored him. The meter was running and the man would be paid. He checked his watch. One more minute and he'd go check on things.
He didn't need to wait.
Eggsy came charging out the door, letting it bang shut as he took off, only to have it slammed open again by an angry looking man coming after him. Harry could do nothing as he watched Eggsy make for the stairs. A group of men were coming up that Harry hadn’t noticed before, but Eggsy saw them and he backtracked, turning to his left away from them and the man who was already close behind.
Eggsy ran. In one heart-stopping second, Harry saw that there was nowhere for the boy to go. The walkway he was on ended abruptly, but Eggsy didn't hesitate. He launched himself over the railing and landed deftly on the walk of the building next to his, a floor down. He never paused, only stepped out of his landing to grab a pole and swing himself around and onto the sloped concrete wall that divided the balconies of of the flats on the lower level. Harry was frozen with fear, unable to move while Eggsy gracefully hopped down from the wall onto another rail, skipped across several walkways and flung himself around another pole past a fence before dropping down where he could no longer be seen. Harry looked up and saw the angry men standing, and looking even angrier, around Eggsy’s door. He breathed only when he saw that they weren't following. It had been maybe 30 seconds since Eggsy had burst from his front door, but holy shit, Harry had aged 5 years.
A moment later Eggsy jumped into the taxi, taking off his backpack and throwing it on the floor. “Drive, now!” he commanded, and leaned back into his seat, huffing with exertion.
Now that Eggsy was safe, it occurred to Harry with a touch of self-contempt that he was aroused. Watching him run had been terrifying, but the display of strength and agility, quick thinking and effortless grace had been extraordinarily sexy. Harry felt a preening sort of pride in the boy. That plus the smell of adrenaline burning hot stripped his mind of all thoughts but getting Eggsy naked as soon as possible. He put a pin in the thoughts of Eggsy’s heaving chest and sweaty brow, and dismissing them in favor of calm gentlemanly concern he asked, “Decided to take the scenic route down?”
Eggsy pulled his snapback from his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “Me step-dad and his pack of wild dogs. He wanted me to stay and get the shit kicked out of me. I politely declined his invitation.”
The bruises on Eggsy’s ribs made more sense now. A slow rage boiled inside Harry. The picture of Eggsy’s life cleared a little; the baby sister, the need to protect and provide for her, the love and devotion it would take to ensure those things in spite of a man like that in their home. His stomach churned and the desire to pull Eggsy into a hug was almost too strong to hold back, but such a move would surely be resented.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Eggsy scoffed. “You rich folk always think something can be done. Sometimes things just are the way they are.” He paused to collect himself before his anger got the better of him, and let out a deep breath all at once. His eyes cleared. “Look, it ain't you I'm mad at, get me?”
Harry knew. God, but he knew. He was intimate with the helpless feeling of someone with more power giving and taking whatever they wanted at their own whims. He understood the fierce instinct to protect his loved ones at all costs, as well as the bitter charred ashes of his defeat. In that moment, he felt that he would do anything to keep Eggsy from falling as low as he himself had done.
“I wasn't always rich, Eggsy. There was a time in my life that I had everything taken away from me. I lashed out at everyone over the injustice.”
“It doesn't matter. But the more important thing is how I moved past it.”
“Yeah? How's that?”
Eggsy thought for a moment. “This thing I'm helping you with?”
“Well let's get the fuck on then.”
Harry placed a warm hand on Eggsy’s knee, and they shared a smile.
The cab rolled to a stop outside an unassuming brick building in a warehouse district which did not give the impression of housing the most accomplished tailor in the UK, if not all of Europe.
“This is it?” Eggsy asked, looking unimpressed, up at the brick face, blank except for a few arched windows on the second floor.
“Percy is eccentric. He remains the best by making sure no one knows he exists. People come to him only by the most discreet word of mouth, and even then he turns half of them away. This is more of a museum to couturiere than a custom clothier. He's a reserved man. Timid, one might say.”
“No sudden movements,” he joked. “Got it.”
Harry pushed the buzzer by the door. It was only when it opened that he realized Percy wasn't really the one he should have been preparing Eggsy to meet. He had simply forgotten the likelihood that his outrageous and ridiculous other half would be the welcome party. A costly mistake, because James had pulled a startled Eggsy into a bear hug the second the door opened.
He gave the boy a tight squeeze, and then held him at arm’s length, tutting, saying “Well now, let's get a good look at you. Yes, yes! Strong chin, I'd absolutely die for that jawline. Harry he's fantastic. Adonis himself will weep when we're through,” before dragging the wide-eyed boy inside without letting him or Harry get a word in.
“Bugger,” Harry cursed, shaking his head, and followed them.
The shop was converted from an old textile warehouse, a large space, sectioned off by industrial sliding doors, and made cozy through creative lighting and clothing displays. It was shabby-chic, with its distressed wood floors and painted brick. The back wall was taken up by bolts of fabric in every color, pattern, and texture imaginable. Vintage suits, wrapped in plastic, curated from the past century lined racks around the room. The occasional mannequin stood wearing foppish waistcoats and long-tailed jackets. A wrought iron staircase lead up to the loft space on the second floor where shoes and accessories were laid out. It was nothing like the kind of shop Harry ran, but it had its own charm. Definitively Percy. And James, of course. James, who continued talking poor Eggsy’s ear off a mile a minute.
“What are you, 34 inch waist, 44 inch chest?” he interjected suddenly, rounding on Eggsy and cutting off his own rambling on, well, whatever it was James rambled about. Harry had stopped listening years ago. He near about gave the boy whiplash from the speed at which he changed conversational directions.
“Uh, yeah. How'd you know that?” Eggsy asked in response, like he'd just been shown a magic trick.
James dropped a cheeky wink. “That’s my job, dear.”
Harry stepped forward and gave a slight clearing of his throat. It was about as rude an interruption as he was capable of.
“Eggsy, please allow me introduce you to James. I neglected to mention him, and his characteristic exuberance, to you before. An oversight I'll not be making in the future, I think.” he tried his best to convey an apology with his eyes.
Unabashed, James took one of Eggsy’s hands in both of his own and said, “You must think me the most horrible cad.” He lifted Eggsy’s hand to his mouth and placed a small kiss on his knuckles. “James Lance, at your service.”
The look Eggsy threw Harry's way over James shoulder clearly asked, “Is this guy for real?” But he had the poise (and tact) not to say it. Instead, he affected an impressive level of deportment and proclaimed, “The pleasure is all mine, James. I'm Gary Unwin, but please, call me Eggsy. Harry and I want to thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
He was half trying out this new gentleman lark and half taking the piss, but Harry found him delightful just the same. He was taking all of this in stride. Eggsy threw himself into new situations the same way he threw himself off of the balcony back at his flat, running at full speed and certain he would land on his feet.
“It's not a problem at all, Eggsy. Harry, Percival is finishing up with a customer in fitting room one, but room two is available. Would you like me to prepare it?”
Harry balked. “One does not use fitting room two when one is popping one’s cherry.”
“Bit late for the barn door on that one, bruv. The horse is well escaped,” Eggsy whispered, and James hid a snigger behind his hand.
Harry ignored him. “We’ll wait. I'll just show Eggsy around, shall I?”
James nodded and flashing a final smile Eggsy’s way, he wandered off to leave them alone.
“You got interesting friends,” Eggsy noted after his retreat.
It’s not like he could deny it.
Harry let Eggsy work his way through the shop, looking at various styles of suits, and giving him a rundown of men’s fashion from earlier decades. The pleated pants and wide lapels of the post-war era to the high waists and loose collars of the disco age. (Eggsy was particularly taken with a charcoal suit with zigzagging pin stripes that Harry was sure previously belonged to a gangster.) Even with Percival’s flawless taste, there were an unfortunate number of jackets with comical shoulder pads, and they completely bypassed the baggy fiasco that was the 1990’s before reaching the slim-fitting modern suit.
“If there’s anything you like, don’t hesitate to let me know. But I have faith in James’ ability to put together a line of choices for you that will be quite suitable. He can be…” Harry searched for a diplomatic word, “bombastic, but I assure you that he’s good at what he does.”
“I’m out of my depth here, mate. I’m just along for the ride. But I trust you. You’re paying me a fuck-ton of money to play a part, so’s you can dress me up however you like.” Eggsy tipped his head conspiratorially towards Harry’s. “Or undress me.”
“I look forward to doing both,” Harry replied, trying not to blush at the thought of slowly divesting Eggsy of his suit, undoing each button and kissing down his muscled chest as his skin was revealed inch by tantalizing inch. Harry lost himself in the image for a moment and looked up to Eggsy’s Cheshire Cat grin. Was he that transparent?
Eggsy grabbed his hand. “Come on. Show me more,” he said, and suggested they go upstairs.
“An Oxford is any formal shoe with open lacing,” Harry explained once they reached the shelves at the back of the loft. “This additional decorative piece is called broguing. Always Oxfords, Eggsy. Never Brogues. Words to live by.” He handed a pair over to try on.
“Oxfords, not brogues. Okay.” He sat in a high backed leather chair next to the display of shoes and pulled off his trainers.
“With all the excitement leaving your home, I forgot to ask. Were you able to give your mother the money?”
Eggsy looked up from tying the laces on the shoes and scowled. “Not if I expected her to be able to keep it. My step-dad would’ve taken it if I tried. I hid it in my room when I was packing my bag. I’ll call her later and tell her where it is.” He hopped up out of the chair and took a few steps toward Harry.
“How do they feel?”
“Yeah, good,” he answered. “Thanks again, by the way. I mean, for the clothes and all. But also for giving me that cash for my mum. I hate to think of leaving them alone this week without helping out.”
“You’re welcome, Eggsy. But it’s money hard earned. You deserve it.”
Their eyes locked for a moment that threatened to be heavy, but Eggsy broke the tension with a wicked grin as he sidled up to Harry and slid a hand over his crotch, grasping lightly as he went. “Ain’t hard yet. But it’s got potential.”
“Eggsy!” Harry scolded, but nothing about his countenance showed displeasure..
Eggsy bent to remove the Oxfords. “Oi, that reminds me. While I was hiding the money I grabbed this. Just. You know. In case you wanted to see it.” He pulled a folded envelope from his pocket. Inside was the clinic paperwork giving him a clean bill of health dated just the week before.
“I did believe you,” Harry assured him, reading it over.
“Yeah, well that was stupid. Any bloke can say he’s clean. But now you know. You know?”
“I do. Thank you, Eggsy. It's much appreciated.”
James came up the stairs then to tell them that Percival was ready to see them in the fitting room. Harry gave him the shoes Eggsy had tried on and instructions to wrap them up, along with a pair of soft leather gloves and a couple of scarves that he chose from the other accessory displays. Eggsy’s wardrobe was woefully inadequate for the late autumn weather.
Inside the fitting room, Percy waited with the rack of suits that James had picked for Eggsy to try on. He was a small man, roughly the same age as James. Both were younger than Harry by a decade at least, but Percival gave the impression of being much older. His greying hair was not shiny or luxurious, and he was too thin under a tawny brown cardigan that was badly pilled with wear under the arms. His careworn face had both frown and laugh lines, although far more of the former. He was a gentle man. Soft-spoken. As Eggsy came through the fitting room door, flanked by Harry and James, Percy reached out to embrace him. The gesture was too sincere for Eggsy to do anything but accept.
“Oh lad, let’s look at you now,” he cooed. It almost felt like deja vu, watching their interaction, but without the cacophony in motion that was James. Percy was all heart. He sat with Eggsy while James poured out tea for them all, and he talked him through what to expect from the fitting process. Eggsy could try on any of the suits that James had selected and Percy would measure and pin them to get a more personalized fit. With Percy’s every word, Eggsy relaxed. Percy had that effect on people. He approached his craft with respect and care that was not reserved only for the clothes, but also the customers.
Harry took the armchair in the corner, giving the men space to work while he kept an unobtrusive eye on their progress. James (too gleefully for Harry's taste) had Eggsy strip down to his pants and stand on the fitting stage in front of the trifold mirror so he could get exact measurements. The multiplied reflections gave Harry an excellent view, and Eggsy caught him staring more than once. Each time the prettiest blush crept down his neck.
It didn’t take long once they got started. Percival gave Eggsy a light robe to wear so he wouldn't feel exposed as they discussed his choices and the alterations they needed. Eggsy picked three suits from James’ selection and he tried them on one after another, Percival whizzing away with his measuring tape, calling out numbers for James to make note of, and making chalk marks where seams would be taken in. It was quite straight forward as fitting procedures went.
Whenever James helped Eggsy into a shirt or jacket he would slide his hands ever so slightly slower than was needed, rubbing sensuously across his back and shoulders, and Harry’s hackles rose. It meant nothing. James was an unrepentant flirt, but surely if he were doing anything untoward Percy would put a stop to it. Eggsy didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, but then again, he’d never done this before, so how would he know the difference? James was touching him again, this time kneeling in front of the platform to get the right length on the trouser cuff, and there was no way Harry was imagining the sultry look that James flashed Eggsy from his suggestive position. Right? Harry could feel a growl (an actual growl!) forming at the back of his throat, and felt sure that he was losing his mind. The moment Percy nodded in satisfaction at his work on the final piece Harry sighed in relief.
Eggsy hopped off the platform, wrapping the robe back around himself, grinning wide. He gushed about how much he loved the suits and how good they would look. As he leaned against the table next to Harry’s chair, the robe parted slightly, giving Harry an eyeful of Eggsy’s muscular chest and abs. The only excuse for what happened next was that the sire short-circuited his brain.
“Could you excuse us, please, gentlemen?” Harry asked suddenly, although his tone made it clear it wasn’t a request as much as a command. James and Percival were nearly finished packing away their tools, and if they found Harry’s order to be rude, they didn’t comment on it. James followed Percy out the door, dragging the rack of clothes behind him.
Eggsy gave him a questioning glance. “Do people always do what you tell them to do?”
Harry didn’t answer, but wrapped his hands around Eggsy’s waist and moved him with purpose directly in front of where he was seated. He loosened the belt tying the robe closed and pushed the fabric back, exposing Eggsy’s hip bones. Leaning forward, he kissed and nibbled along the exposed skin above the elastic band of his pants up to the protrusion of his iliac crest. Eggsy looked down at him, shocked eyes fluttering as Harry skimmed his teeth over the rounded flesh on his side. It wasn’t a bite, but a drag of canines, leaving bloodless indents that filled back in pink and raw, and Eggsy sucked in a laughing breath.
“I guess so,” he answered his own question.
Gathering handfuls of the robe, Harry tugged so it fell from Eggsy’s shoulders and pooled around his back, immobilizing his arms. It was only an illusion. Eggsy could easily release his white-knuckle grip from the table’s edge and let it slide to the floor but he made no attempt to move.
This was the height of impropriety. Harry must be insane to to turn Eggsy’s first suit fitting into semi public sex, but he found within himself neither the ability nor the desire to stop. It had been maddening, watching Percy and James with their hands over him. Now that they were gone he was overcome with the need to renew his solitary claim on Eggsy’s body.
Harry did not have a history of giving in to ridiculous Alpha posturing. Base, neanderthalic instincts were throwbacks that had no place in the actions of a true gentleman. And yet. The front of Eggsy’s boxer briefs twitched, the bulge under the stretched cotton growing larger by the second, and Harry yanked them down without a second thought. There might be something to be said for those instincts after all.
Eggsy’s cock and balls were out over the band of his shorts, putting them on display and keeping his thighs stuck together, the back hugging tight under the rounded globes of his arse. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but Harry watched as his lovely cock plumped under his gaze. The night before he had wanted this. He wanted so badly to feel Eggsy in his mouth, but to be fair he had wanted many things and there hadn't been time for them all. Now that he had seen Eggsy’s clean medical report there was nothing to stop him.
Above him, Eggsy’s breath hitched, and as Harry leaned in to suck Eggsy’s quickly hardening flesh onto his tongue, the boy’s eyes clamped shut and he dropped his head back towards the ceiling, letting out a low groan.
“Shh,” Harry whispered, taking over with his hand until Eggsy’s wet cock stood at full attention. “You need to be quiet, my boy. You don't want them to hear you, to know what we're doing, do you?”
He shook his head furiously.
Harry rubbed the leaking tip of Eggsy’s cock with his thumb, sliding back the pouty foreskin that he loved so much and leaned in again to swallow the length of him down. Even fully erect it wasn't a difficult fit. Eggsy might be sizeable for an Omega, but was still downright petite compared to Harry’s. He pulled back and suckled at the rosy end for a moment, and Eggsy bucked his hips, pushing his cock deeper past Harry’s lips.
Harry pulled off of him altogether. Eggsy whined in frustration.
“If you can't stay still, I'll stop.” Harry warned in a low menacing murmur. He moved his mouth up Eggsy’s smooth, perfect cock in a row of sucking kisses. “Show me what a good boy you can be.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be good. So fucking good. Please,Harry,” he whispered in return as Harry slid his mouth back down his aching length. Eggsy’s breath was shaky but controlled. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The tremble in his shoulders intensified whenever Harry changed his pace but true to his word he did not move or make a noise.
Harry's desire to see Eggsy come undone was a living thing, devouring him from the inside. He needed it to feel Eggsy’s release, craved it, as ardently as he had ever craved his own. His cock was hard and straining against his trousers but he let it be. Neither one of them would be able to manage being quiet if he tried for anything else where they were. This was for Eggsy. Well, Eggsy and his burgeoning Alpha ego, but he was going to put a pin in that problem for now. He concentrated on his task, swallowing every sweet drop he could coax out of Eggsy’s prick. The Omega’s taste was more potent than Harry expected, and he looked forward to doing this again later, when he could use his mouth on an even more intimate place and open the boy completely with his tongue.
Harry felt the tension in Eggsy’s lithe body growing tighter. He was fighting to control himself while his orgasm closed in. Harry reached a single finger back under Eggsy’s balls and slid it around his entrance, his touch soft and teasing. There was slickness there, and Harry was spurred on by the evidence of his Omega’s arousal. Eggsy let out a strangled gasp, and his head fell back, mouthing wordlessly up at the ceiling. He had to be getting close. Eggsy looked down, his eyes wide in warning, and he spoke a single word on an indrawn breath, “I’m…”
Harry swallowed his cock all the way down, hollowing his cheeks as he went, and moved his finger to push hard against Eggsy’s perineum. The contractions began a split second before his mouth flooded, salty and sweet, with Eggsy’s release. He sucked until every drop was cleaned away and Eggsy’s knees threatened to buckle.
Panting, Harry leaned his head on the soft plane of the stomach in front of him, and took a stunned moment to let them both catch their breath. His mind was blank except for a He stood, pulling the robe demurely up around Eggsy’s shoulders again, and caged the boy in against the table with his arms.
As soon as Harry’s head cleared a sinking feeling of disgust crept over him. He had no right to own this boy. Paying him, buying him things, even if Eggsy agreed to share his body for a time, did not grant him permission to attack because he felt threatened. Harry found it difficult to look Eggsy in the eye.
Instead, Harry placed a rough kiss on his jaw and said, “You should get dressed. I’ll go settle things out front.” He wanted to pull away, but gave in to the desire to run his nose along Eggsy’s neck first, scenting him. It did nothing to quell the confusion swirling in his chest. He started to turn towards the door, but Eggsy caught his wrist.
“Wait. Wait,” he begged with a laugh. “That was…” His clear hazel eyes sparkled, and Harry felt lost in them as they stared at each other. “Do you want me to…?” Eggsy gave a look at the slowly fading bulge in Harry’s trousers.
Harry shook his head. “That was just for you,” he lied, unable to admit to the possessiveness that had overtaken him. It may have been a lie, but a gentle one. Eggsy looked up at him, dumbstruck.
It was adorable. It dawned on him that it had probably been some time since anyone had given the lad a blowjob without asking anything in return. And even though he would be asking many things of Eggsy in the coming days, it wasn’t a matter of sexual reciprocity. Harry felt quite sure that he could spend all his time pleasing Eggsy and be satisfied. “Get dressed,” he reminded, and left the room.
Behind the counter near the front door, James sat with his feet up next to the register, flipping through a magazine.
“Everything okay in there?” he smirked at Harry’s approach.
“Do shut up, James.”
This took way longer for me to get out than I was expecting. Real life got messy and no part of this chapter wanted to cooperate with me. It's only half the chapter I originally planned anyway, and it's barely edited. So yeah, I'm making excuses why I'm not happy with it, but if I waited to be happy it would never get posted. So. I hope you're not too disappointed? Hopefully the next one won't be as much of a wait. But seriously, thank you for reading.