Hartwin #15 "meeting in the E.R/A&E au" please?
15. meeting in the E.R./A&E au
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 read, “Eggsy”.
“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 your eyes.”
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 anyway.”
“I mean it,” he protested. “I’ve never met anyone as pretty as you.”
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 time.”
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 him.
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, actually.)
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 over here.”
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 surprise.
“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)