It wasn’t often that Harry had to go to the hospital. At
least, not a normal one, since Kingsman had their own medical facilities built
to accommodate the agents. But in this particular case, Harry was about to
bleed out from a knife wound, and HQ was too far away, so he didn’t protest
when the group of civilians that had found him in the alley, bruised and
bleeding, called emergency services and had an ambulance take him to the
closest emergency room.
He fell unconscious at some point before he’d even arrived,
but when he opened his eyes, he found himself in a hospital room, his stomach
aching and somewhat itchy from stiches, and he wasn’t alone.
A young man dressed in nurse’s scrubs was beside his bed,
holding up a clipboard that contained- if Harry had to guess- Harry’s vitals.
The young man was gorgeous, despite the unflattering image his light blue
scrubs presented, and since Harry was still feeling the effects of whatever
they’d used to dull the pain of his surgery, he made a point of saying so.
“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, with the tone one would
use if merely commenting on the weather. His sudden declaration made the young
man jump and turn to face him, so that Harry could now see his nametag, which
“Oh! You’re awake. Bruv, don’t scare me like that,” he said,
smiling gently. “What were you sayin’?”
“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, a bit louder this time. “Especially
Eggsy blinked a few times, a slight pink tinging his cheeks,
before he laughed and patted Harry’s shoulder consolingly.
“That’s just the painkillers talkin’, mate, but thanks
“I mean it,” he protested. “I’ve never met anyone as pretty
Eggsy gave him a wry smile. “Tell you what, Mr…” He glanced
down at the clipboard, “Hart. If you still feel that way when the painkillers
wear off, then we can talk.”
“Over dinner, hopefully.”
Eggsy barked out a laugh. “Christ, mate, you don’t waste any
And while, yes, Harry was, for lack of a better word, doped
out, he could still see the way Eggsy’s eyes trailed over his bed-ridden form,
subtly appraising him, and felt a surge of vanity wash over him. He certainly
didn’t look his best, dressed in a hospital gown and not his pristine suit.
He was broken out of his reverie by Eggsy, who gave him
another shoulder pat and a smile.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, same time. Alright, Mr. Hart?”
Harry only hummed in acquiescence, distracted as he was by
Eggsy’s proximity. Then the young nurse was striding out of the room, leaving
Harry to ogle his arse for a few glorious seconds before the door closed behind
And, perhaps he was just imagining it, but there seemed to
be a purposeful swing to the lad’s hips as he walked out.
True to his word, Eggsy did come in to Harry’s room, every
day at the same time, for the next two weeks that Harry was stuck at the hospital.
Unfortunately, he’d made the error of wearing his glasses when he first spoke
to Eggsy, so Merlin (and the rest of Kingsman, damn it) heard everything. Merlin
decided, in turn, to not get Harry out of there as fast as possible, using the
excuse that he was giving the agent more time to ask the boy out “properly”.
And by the end of the two weeks, Harry was mostly sober, the
pain in his gut now just a dull ache, so painkillers were unnecessary. He’d actually
been relatively level-headed for the past three days or so, but he’d feigned
sleep whenever Eggsy came into the room, as he was far too mortified to try and
speak to him again.
(Merlin had made recordings of Harry’s ‘other’ talks with
the las, also helped along by medication. They became… increasingly inappropriate,
but oddly, Eggsy didn’t seem to mind. He appeared to find it quite hilarious,
But then came the day when Eggsy came in early, so Harry couldn’t pretend to be
asleep and ignore him. Eggsy saw that he was awake, and gave such a large grin Harry
was half-worried his pretty face would split in two.
Harry coughed into his fist, murmuring a hello. He avoided
looking at Eggsy as he walked up to the bed and checked Harry’s vitals.
“You should be good to go by tomorrow,” Eggsy hummed. “Can
finally get you outta that bed.”
“Thank goodness,” he muttered. Then, gathering up his
courage, he looked up at Eggsy. “Erm… Eggsy?”
“Yeah, Haz?” he said back, using a nickname that had caught
on fairly quickly in their acquaintance. If he remembered correctly, Harry had
told him to call him whatever he wanted. He cringed at the mere memory of it.
“I, um… I wish to apologize. I do hope I didn’t make you too
uncomfortable with my… comments. They were very… inappropriate, at times.”
For a split second, Eggsy’s grin faltered, and were Harry
not a seasoned secret agent, he would have missed it entirely. “Oh. That. Don’t
worry about it, Haz. Happens a lot. People say shit they don’t mean all the time
Harry blinked, his mouth making the decision before his mind
could even bring it up. “But I did mean what I said.”
“I… Wha?” Eggsy gaped at him, sparkling green eyes wide with
“I meant every word of it, Eggsy.”
Eggsy blinked a couple times, before his grin returned in
full force. “Every word?” he leaned
down with a wolfish twinkle in his eyes. “Even what you was sayin’ about
spreading me out over your bed?”
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “Although
we might want to wait for my stitches to heal before we try any of that.”
Eggsy pulled back and chuckled. “And until then?”
“Until then… I do know a lovely Italian place that I’d love
to take you to.”
“Sounds ace, Harry,” Eggsy beamed. And Harry couldn’t help
but smile back, (most of) his mortification already fading from his mind.
It took quite a bit of time for Harry’s wound to heal
completely, but rest assured, once it did, he took immense pleasure in taking
Eggsy- who was by then his official partner- to bed and showing him just how much he’d
meant those words.
(and then Harry invited Eggsy to join Kingsman’s medical team and they lived happily ever after the end)