Yellow diamonds in the light And we’re standing side by side As your shadow crosses mine What it takes to come aliveIt’s the way I’m feeling I just can’t deny But I’ve gotta let it goWe found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless placeShine a light through an open door Love and life I will divide Turn away ‘cause I need you more Feel the heartbeat in my mindIt’s the way I’m feeling I just can’t deny But I’ve gotta let it goWe found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless placeYellow diamonds in the light And we’re standing side by side As your shadow crosses mineWe found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless placeWe found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless place We found love in a hopeless place
Yeah! And remember how they played this when Sherlock and John were getting drunk together in a bar? Oh yeah, that’s right!
I am so happy so many of you loved the first half that I had to get another part up this week. So, please enjoy this very intimate chapter of Honeyed because I am so deep into this sugar daddy fantasy.
request: Please can I request something? Maybe Merlin and Harry both like the reader and her and best friend Eggsy find it amusing how they constantly bicker to win her attention?
Word count: 729
(a/n: i changed it up a little, hope you don’t mind!)
It was no lie that Merlin liked you, however, it was also no lie that Harry liked you, too. How did you know? Many a times had they complimented you,many a times they had kissed your hand and many a times they had asked you out for a drink, most of the time you went because you didn’t want to be rude. But if you were telling the truth, you didn’t really like any of them more than friends. Sure, you thought they were attractive and true gentlemen but that didn’t mean you really wanted to date either of them.
You told Eggsy, your best friend, everything that they did to you to try and win your over and it never failed to make him laugh. Eggsy had seen some of the stuff they did to try and win your attention and he always found it comical as did you. But you always felt kind of sorry for the men, after all they were devoting a lot of their time to you.
The mission that you were on involved all four of you which was quite rare; however, for this particular mission you had to dress up real nice which, as you can probably tell, caused some problems. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of you, neither could Merlin which made the scene humours for Eggsy. The dress you were wearing split at your upper thigh, revealing most of your leg and your makeup and hair was done up all fancy.
Merlin and Harry were both tense as they watched you flirt with the target, a graceful smile upon your lips and your hand resting upon the man’s upper arm.
“You need to stop looking at her, Hamish, it’ll make her uncomfortable” Harry said to Merlin as he looked down at his drink, swirling it around lightly.
“Really? You’re the one who won’t stop staring at her” Merlin said a little bitter, as he looked at Harry with a stern look upon his face.
“You’re both as bad as each other” Eggsy said, taking a sip of his drink before pulling a face, hating the way it tasted. You looked over at Eggsy briefly flashing him a amused small smile before turning back to the man in front of you, twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers.
Merlin and Harry went crazy inside as they watched you twirling your hair, on the outside they kept straight faces but Eggsy just knew, he just knew.
“I think she needs to stop talking to him now, she’ll start trouble if she carries on” Harry warned, taking a sip of his drink.
“Or you’re just jealous” Merlin said, causing Harry to give him a look of ‘Really?’, Eggsy rolled his eyes as he texted you through his glasses.
‘y/n, help me’
‘oh god, not again’
‘they keep talking about you and it’s starting to get creepy’
You laughed a little causing the man in front of you to furrow his eyebrows.
“Did I say something amusing?” the man asked sounding very serious which caused you to widen your eyes and shake your head.
“No, no no” you said, “I was just, urm, thinking about something” you said, hoping the man would believe it.
“Hmm..” the man said before getting up and leaving which caused you to roll your eyes and groan a little. You picked up your drink and made your way back over to the three men, sighing.
“Thank you, eggsy, I fucked everything up” you said, Eggsy held his hands up in defense.
That’s when a gunshot noise rang out and people began to scream, Eggsy quickly jumped and opened his umbrella protecting you from the bullets that were being fired at you. You watched Harry go off and fight some of the men and Merlin did too, almost like they were showing off.
“For god’s sake..” you muttered, shaking your head with an amused smile. Eggsy stifled a laughed, hiding behind his umbrella and fighting anyone who came to attack him.
“I don’t know how you put up with this” Eggsy said.
“Neither do I” you replied as you hit a guy in the face who was about to shoot you.
The bickering between Harry and Merlin lasted for a while, longer than you expected that was until they saw you kissing Eggsy one day…
Merlahad: how the reunion in tgc would have gone if harry had remembered merlin and their relationship
Harry looked up, smiling brightly as the door to his
room burst open. He loved visitors. Being stuck in here on his own all the time
was incredibly boring, even if that lovely Ginger Ale kept bringing him books
to read. He liked it best when she stopped to chat. She didn’t know much about
butterflies, but she had a lovely voice and any human contact was to be treasured.
The one in front, an unfamiliar young man, barrelled in
towards Harry. He moved in for a hug, but Harry stepped back in alarm. He put
his hand between them to disguise the rudeness of the move, offering it out for
a polite (and more appropriate for strangers) handshake. “How do you do? Have
we met before?”
The young man’s face fell. “Harry…it’s alright, you
don’t have to pretend. They know we know you.” He didn’t shake Harry’s hand, so
Harry lowered it.
“I think there must be some mistake,” he said slowly.
Almost at the same moment he looked away from the boy
and was treated to an image he actually remembered, a beautifully familiar
accent filled the room as his partner said, “Harry. It’s been a long time and
my brogues need to be resoled.”
Harry’s smile was replaced with a frown, “Darling,
what on earth are you talking about?”
Silence descended over the room like a bag over the
head of a suffocating victim, and Harry shifted uncomfortably and tried not to
let it choke him.
“Harry…do you know who I am?”
Harry blinked, “Of course I know who you are. What
sort of person would forget their own husband? Really, Hamish.”
Ginger Ale coughed, “You’re Hamish?”
Hamish looked at her. “Yes…?”
“Hamish, his husband who he literally never shuts up
about?” the final man, who Harry believed was called Tequila (strange name)
said. “He talks about you all the time. When it’s not butterflies it’s always ‘Hamish
once took me to this lovely restaurant for our anniversary’ or ‘Do you think
Hamish will find me before Christmas? I had a very important present I wanted
to give him.’ Dude’s totally smitten with you. It’s a little nauseating, in a
sweet kind of way.”
Hamish returned his attention to Harry. He took a step
closer and Harry smiled. Hesitantly, Hamish reached out for him, and Harry
threw himself into his husband’s arms. Hamish squeezed him tightly, and his
voice was thick when he whispered, “I thought I lost you.”
“You found me again, darling,” Harry murmured back. “I
knew you would.”
When Hamish pulled away, his hands still clinging to
Harry like he was afraid he might disappear, his expression was uncertain
again. “So, you know who I am,” he said again, “but you don’t know who you are?”
“Of course I know who I am.” Harry really doesn’t
understand these questions that everyone keeps asking him. It should be fairly
obvious, and Hamish of all people should know. “I’m a lepidopterist.”
Hamish’s face fell, and Harry was struck by the
strangest feeling that he’d just said something wrong. “Hamish? Is everything
Harry knew his husband. He knew every inch of him. And
he knew perfectly well that when Hamish put on a smile and said, “Everything’s
fine, Harry,” he’s lying.
Comedy has never been in his repertoire of talents. But, you suppose, it’s the pure awkward, sheepishness that makes the poor attempts at comedy so delightfully funny. His professionalism normally drowns out any and all goofiness, leaving a stoic Scotsman who cracks a smile at a joke rather than making them.
(There are, of course, exceptions to all this – like when you get him tipsy enough that he’s chattering away about the Loch Ness Monster or about how comfortable kilts are. Even then, it’s not an attempt at outright comedy and maybe that’s what makes it so hilarious.)
You were so in love with the lanky tech-wizard that you laughed at his jokes anyways – even if they sounded like something your father would crack to a waiter at a restaurant to break the ice – and he seemed to appreciate it.
So, as you eagerly wait for Hamish to try on his early Christmas gift from your grandmother, you’re not expecting to burst out laughing. But then he calls out from the bedroom in a voice so small and meek and exasperated and – you can’t help but snort.
“Please don’t laugh.”
He steps into the hallway donning a woolen Christmas sweater that’s three times too small for him. His arms are stuck outwards, jutting a bit like a scarecrow’s, and the sweater is so tight you figure even a big inhale would tear it. How Hamish even got it over his head you’re unsure of. The face of Santa is large and tacky, and it makes Hamish look even more miserable than he already is. It’s certainly a sight to behold – the lanky Scotsman looks unsure of both himself and the sweater. It reminds you vaguely of dog shaming. You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle a laugh.
He speaks then, looking down at the sweater and swallowing.
“I don’t think it fits.”
And you lose it. Completely and totally.
And when you start laughing hard enough that you cackle – a little bit like a hyena choking on it’s dinner – Hamish can’t help but join you. But, the sweater is so tight that he can’t really even laugh without feel like he’s corseted in. So, he attempts to pull it off his head. And finds himself stuck. It’s too tight.
It makes the laughter worse.
You’re sobbing now, eyes full of tears as Hamish settles on the edge of the couch with the sweater stuck on his arms and desperately trying to escape the woolen prison. Hamish’s laugh is deep and rumbling and it’s growing heavier with each wave of laughter that bursts from your chest.
“I’m - oh, god - I’m sorry,” you try and breathe, “I didn’t mean to laugh –”
And the cycle starts again, and Hamish is left stranded in the Christmas sweater while you screech on the floor in laughter.
The bar was crawling with Kingsman staff – the entirety of Medical was here celebrating someone’s birthday, it seemed, and staff from Tech, Wardrobe and Weapons were lingering among the pub.
“Grab us a few pints, yea, Ham’?” Lancelot shoves a bill his way and Merlin nods. He needed to stretch his legs. Being cramped in this booth discussing policy within the agency was the last way he wanted to spend his Friday. The lanky Scotsman scuffles over to the bar, and mid-way notices you seated in a corner booth with your friends. Swallowing a bit of nervousness Merlin raps his knuckles on the oak of the bar and waving the bartender over.
“Four pints a’ Guinesses, yea?” he hands over the bill, voice raised over the sound Foreigner playing from the speakers in the back. The bartender gives him a nod, and Merlin’s eyes turn to the TV above the bar playing the Arsenal game. Harry slips beside him at the bar, moving to help carry the other two beers.
“Did you see that Y/N is here?”
Merlin shoots him a look. “Don’t.”
Harry, seeming very pleased with himself, smirks. “And she’s headed this way.”
Merlin’s about to turn and look, when Harry shoves him roughly with his shoulder and Hamish collides hard with a body half way to the bar and is drenched in beer. Merlin’s eyes widen.
Your face is twisted into absolute horror as you blink down at the mess you made. Your blouse is soaked, and foam from the beer is in your hair. Even worse, the man across from you is wearing your drink.
“Oh my god,” you breathe, “I am so sorry!”
“No, no,” Ham’ is quick, “All my fault.”
Harry just grins and watches the entire scene play out.
Merlin has frozen up completely now realizing he is currently face-to-face with his one and only office crush. You’re a pretty, young receptionist down in Tech – the one he had to pass every morning when gathering his necessary tools for working on the computer mainframe. The Scotsman was shy – blame it on a lack of self-confidence, Harry always said – and Harry could tell his friend was in a world of panic.
Harry watches as you blink up at the man you’d crashed into and recognize him. “Hamish! Oh my. I am really really sorry. I was focused on not spilling and ha. Well.”
Of course it’s Hamish. Your eyes fleet to your friends locked in a corner booth – they’re all giggling with wide-eyes. It was no secret you liked Hamish. Nearly every girl in Tech liked him. He was kind and polite and that accent! Those legs! Hamish was a handsome man. And without his normal large glasses?
My god. His eyes are green.
Merlin’s white dress shirt is soaked through and you try desperately not to stare as the see-through fabric clings to his waist. Using a napkin, Merlin dabs quickly, laughing. “Tha’s alright. I, uh, wasn’t looking where I was goin’ either. Th’ shove from ‘arry here certainly didn’t help.”
“I’m not even sorry,” Harry, that posh bastard, quips. He saunters off after tossing his mate a wink, leaving you both soaked and without drinks.
“Let me buy y’ a drink?” Hamish offers, his voice soft, “S’ th’ least I can do fer ruinin’ yer blouse.”
His eyes fleet down and the pattern of your bra is showing through. It’s white lace. His face is beat red. He regrets looking down.
*fiddling with his hands* Are you and Mum fighting?
*glances at his bedroom door; smirks* Oh, no...far from it.
*returns to work*
*fidgets* Is Mum ill?
Not that I'm aware of.
She's eating a lot.
*abandons experiment; lifts his son into his lap* Yes? What else?
Uhmmm...she's sick sometimes. And tired a lot. She had to get lots of new clothes.
*grimaces* She keeps wanting you to rub her back and stuff...
*chuckles* She certainly does. Why would that be?
She has to bend over at work...and it could hurt.
*prompting* Carrying something, too. That could do it, right?
*grins* So...deduction time. We have morning sickness, weight gain, mood swings and sore muscles *gestures encouragingly* You've seen this before, haven't you? Rosie Watson's little brother...
*gasps* Is Mum having a baby?
*affectionate smile* And you said you'd make a terrible consulting detective.
*beaming; hugs his Dad*
*proud smile* I can't guarantee you'll have a brother, though.
*shakes his head; mumbles into Sherlock's jacket* I don't care.
*looks up; innocently* How did the baby get there?
*raises his voice* Oh, Molly, dearest? *picks up his son; moving to the bedroom* We have a question for you!
Obviously predicting a worlds team at this stage is futile because we have no idea where Max, Dan and Nile are with their comebacks SO LET’S DO IT ANYWAY
Imagining all 3 are back to AA form (lol) Max and Nile are your top AAers. James did an amazing job at Euros but I would imagine a healthy Nile could surpass the score.
Floor: Dom seems the probable choice. Dan could challenge him on top form.
Pommels: Weird year for GB not having an obvious choice of pommel specialist. Joe Fraser scored highest between British & Europeans but a 14.000 isn’t going to set the world on fire. More likely that another specialist will just go up on pommels (Dan also would be OK here).
Rings: Courtney all day long.
Vault: Dom Cunningham.
PBars: With Max and Nile in AA, the next highest score is likely to come from Dan. Sam Oldham would be another potential choice.
High Bar: James has done well this year here. Sam again a decent if unreliable option.
Of course I have no idea how healthy Max, Nile and Dan are. Nile seems to have been back in full training for the longest, but he was recovering from injury while Max and Dan had no injury issues. If Max isn’t ready to do AA, I expect he will make pommels his priority (& possibly floor if he has the stamina). In that case Nile and James or Dan, if healthy, would be your preferred AA team. I think it likely that James’s performances at Euros will be enough to get him a worlds slot: he may not score high enough for AA compared to others but he’s still better than most on HB without that.
Optimistic team: Max, Nile (AA), Dom (FX, VT), Courtney (SR), Dan P (PH, PB), James (HB).
Pessimistic team: James, Joe (AA), Dom (FX, VT), Courtney (SR), Max (PH), Nile (PB, HB).
Major medal hopes would be Max on PH, and FX and AA if competing; Nile on HB and Courtney could also do something I think.
Also - what does Hamish look like these days? No idea what his programme is like at the moment