hot bruv

thisbirdhadflown  asked:

Hartwin, ass grab

“And…cheers to the new term!” 

Eggsy grins at his mates. Jamal and Ryan didn’t end up following him to uni, but they’d managed to keep in touch, cheering Eggsy on and even postponing their nights out in order for Eggsy to buckle down and ace his exams without so much as as a groan. In return, Eggsy paid for their drinks—thanks to work study, his shifts at the tutoring center, and the full gymnastics and academic scholarship, he had a little extra for his own—and brought along Roxy, who could kick their arses at Cards Against Humanity and drink them under the table.

Now, Roxy’s tapping her glass against his. “To our last term!” she cheers, relief slumping her shoulders, though Eggsy knows she’s got internships and fucking law school lined up after this. He himself hopes to land something that pays decently, especially if he doesn’t get any aid to go to a proper graduate program, and he really, really needs it. While Roxy had been drawn to throwing hardened criminals in the slammer, he’d been drawn to the foster system, already planning his thesis on the economic and social barriers that involved academically-correct words for officials with silver spoons stuck up their arses. 

But to even get there, he needed good grades—which should work out—and exam scores and letters of recommendation. He’d lined up his options with two other professors, scrapping even the idea of asking Dr. King for one and entertaining the idea for Dr. Hart. He was going to be in two of his classes this semester, and Dr. Hart seemed strict but fair and sympathetic to what Charlie—who seemed to think he was going to land a position in the House of Lords easily enough—disdainfully called the downtrodden. “Supports every bleeding heart cause out there,” Charlie had sneered when he’d spotted Eggsy looking through options for his next term. “Sob stories about single mothers from the estates and drunken deadbeat dads and chavs snorting every drug they can lay their hands on…yeah, he eats them up.” 

So, yeah, maybe Dr. Hart would be less of a snob than his other professors, but Eggsy hopes he can prove his worth instead of being another statistic for someone to sigh over. But now, he laughs with his mates, trading stories and knocking back a few pints, filling up with chips so he doesn’t get too sloshed, since he’s got classes in a few days. 

“…And I haven’t fucked in, like, five months,” Jamal’s groaning. “Fucking job at the fire station, love it and all, but it’s been a fucking dry spell.” 

“Not a dry spell for me,” Ryan declares, and when everyone turns to him, Jamal leaning forward hopefully, he shakes his head. “A fucking drought. Try getting it on in the storeroom at Asda with those bright green shirts and smells of some fucking idiot spewing his lunch and missing the bin.” 

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ballister-in-the-tardis  asked:

For the Christmas AU prompt; Merlin/Tequila, broken radiator?

“our christmas party turned into a tropical theme because the radiator is broken and it’s hotter than hell in here - damn you look good without a shirt i never noticed before asgdhfjgkhl” 

“Hey, Ging?” Tequila asked walking over to her. “You going to fix the heat?”

She was typing furiously. “No Tequila, I’m having a great time sweating and being surrounded by a great many men who are looking increasingly cranky.” She typed some more. “The system is on the fritz.”

“I noticed,” Tequila wiped his forehead with his shirtsleeve. “The tree is looking a little more kindling like. Champ is spritzing it with water. You know how he feels about Christmas trees.”

“I’m working on it,” she snapped, the heat getting to her. “Why don’t you just leave, if it is bugging you so much?”

“Because the doors locked,” Merlin said. He was walking with his tablet and tapping away as well. 

“Well both nerds are on it, this should be fixed quick,” Tequila said. “Going to get me another drink.” Tequila went over and got a glass of bourbon. He looked at Eggsy, “Isn’t that santa hat a little hot?”

“Sure bruv, but holiday cheer!”

Tequila wondered if the flush on his cheeks was the heat or the whisky. He chatted with Eggsy and Harry and the room was just getting warmer and people were starting to loosen up their party finery. Tequila did not care and stripped down to his undershirt. Somehow the heat did not seem to bother Harry Hart at all and the man hadn’t even loosened his tie.

“Oh. Oh my,” Tequila heard Ginger say and spun to look, worried.

Tequila decided he was having a heat induced hallucination. He blinked but the vision didn’t change. “I’m suffering heat stroke, seeing things,” Tequila muttered. He grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it down. But when he looked back it was still the same. “What the hell?” he couldn’t stop staring.

“Wot, you didn’t know?” Eggsy asked grinning. Tequila shook his head no. “Yeah, you really should read our ‘nerds’ file. Its pretty interesting.” He whistled a Christmas song and went to talk to other people.

Tequila found himself moving forward.

“Still not fixed, hun,” Ginger said. She was back to typing but definitely taking peeks at Merlin.

“Yeah, sure, it’s fine,” Tequila said. He couldn’t stop staring.

Merlin didn’t look up from his own work. “Tequila, it is just a little bit of ink.”

“And I’m a little bit hung,” Tequila replied. Ginger looked up at him. “My apologies. I didn’t expect that.” He gestured at the full sleeve tattoo that covered Merlin’s arm and the shoulder ending in a shield over his pec. His really defined pec, and actually shoulders too. And abs. And nipple ring. What what the fuck. “You have a nipple ring.”

“Hmmm,” Merlin agreed. He smiled and in a minute the room’s temperature started to decrease. Everyone cheered. He looked at Tequila. “Agent, is there a problem?”

Tequila shook his head. “There really really isn’t,” he said, voice husky. “Can I show you how much of a problem it isn’t?”

Merlin and Ginger exchanged a look. “Ye could grab me a drink and we’ll talk a little.” They watched Tequila scurry over to the bar. Ginger held up her fist and Merlin bumped it.

“Told you showing all that would get you what you wanted,” Ginger whispered. 

“I don’t have what I want quite yet, give me an hour,” Merlin replied. He leaned in and made sure that Tequila saw them. He whispered into Ginger’s ear.

“You are not pierced down there!” she shouted in fake surprise. 

They both snickered when Tequila dropped the glass and it shattered. That warranted another fist bump and Merlin went to go put the poor man out of his misery.